The Trouble With Fear

I have been up to battering myself once again. Fear has struck with prowess and has splattered me to the floor, hands tied behind my back. Waster of Time he says.  There is someone who has said it in a much more eloquent manner? I can’t recall. That is part of FEARS characteristics. A small part mind you, but still…it inhibits and knocks me down to both knees.

I should write something but there are so many good writers and photographer’s out there. Who am I?  When I am least concerned, a good piece might pop out and it makes me tremble. Well, makes me happy. Let’s put it that way. I am now depending on other’s poetry to fill my page and other writer’s works. It is so much easier than to pick up pen, plunk it into the inkwell, blot and write something out of my head. 

When I began this blog, for the third consecutive year, I said to myself; I am not going to post other people’s photography or poetry. This is my page and what I share will be mine. But guess what is occurring these days? A little deja vu don’t ya know. It’s happened before and it wants to gnaw and curtail me un autre fois. I’m not good enough. I don’t have time. I’m wasting my time. I should be doing something more constructive and with endearing results. Like quilting or embroidery, and the list goes on. Egads! 

I want to be me even though I’m past sixty-three. I want to find my writing voice. My style. They say you must ‘Practice!’ Well, honey. I ain’t got a whole lotta time to practice. And my fingers are wearing thin. I don’t mean to complain. Really, that would be silly at my age. I need to be thankful that I can write a little every day. Never mind trying to be better than the next guy. Just be better than I was yesterday. 

Okay, that will be my plan. Forget all the good stuff I read, but enjoy. Write to compete with myself rather than all the learned teachers, professors, published writers, the qualified, the certified and the mass producers. Will I allow myself to just be me? Write at my own pace, and realize that I might be producing a piece of writing that could speak to a soul in need, bring a tear to an eye, encourage someone to change their underwear, perhaps stop someone from taking addictive meds (with help, of course) and just enjoy the breath that is entering his/her/my lungs and escaping while another is waiting to enter.  





10 thoughts

  1. What is there to be afraid of other than not doing it? It doesn’t matter whose words you post up here — we’re all inspired by others and that’s a good thing! There’s no consequence here, no danger, nothing to be afraid of. 😉 Just take a deep breath and…

  2. You can write. You inspire me.. and I think you’re pretty funny too (that bit about helping someone change their underwear!)
    I think everyone goes through moments of self-doubt. Only yesterday I was researching IT courses. I really must get back to writing these articles! :0)

      • I know it must be hard. Don’t be too hard on yourself if it doesn’t come easily. You’ve shared some great writing advice recently.
        My uncle has nearly passed away twice since Christmas. I was so happy getting to see him. I was worried he wouldn’t recognise me or talk to me, but he called me ‘skinny hips’ – his term of endearment for me. I just wanted to hear that one last time. I didn’t think I could write either but i’m nearly finished my articles.Whether they’re any good or not is another question.
        Take it easy Drew xx

  3. Mission accomplished, Mr. Delaney. Your writing speaks to me, whether or not you think it’s any good. A friend told me about a time he was struggling, he found himself on his knees in a park and a crane was making wide slow circles around him, barely rising higher with each labored lap. My friend watched in awe as the bird, after a small eternity of apparently fruitless effort, launched out over the trees and disappeared into the distant sky. That’s how it goes with writing, I think, and life in general. Progress is irregular and nonsensical, but with effort and a little faith, guaranteed.

    • Thank you Robert for your comments. I agree with you wholeheartedly. There’s death, and then cancer in the family, and babysitting, and something always happening. But I try to be the best I can whenever I get the chance to proceed forward.

  4. P.S. Sorry, Drew, I assumed you were a man because of your name. I realize now that you are not. Someone spelled my name Bobbie once when I was a kid. So we’re even. 🙂

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