What risk are you taking in your writing?

I’m taking a break from my killer blog series. The support of this writing community is making me honest.

I hate that.

It is so much easier to teach. So much more predictable to speak from what I know. To live in the sound of words and their beauty. To keep moving.

Thing is, I think it’s time to stop. Stop performing. Stop filling in the silence. Just be – with the pain. And the fear. It’s not a safe place for me. I haven’t let myself in there much.

What if my gravest doubts are true? What if I am only fooling myself? What if our circumstances really do define us? My husband and I are struggling – there’s a dullness in his eyes, a sharpness in his tone. I don’t think he recognizes me anymore. It’s terrifying. I can’t explain my sudden tears. My mind wants to sort this  out logically, but I can’t.

In the chasm, I catch myself filling in the blanks with rote answers. It’s a mechanical response, not one I feel at all. It’s the distance between what I know to be true and my reality. And it hurts. I’m not used to feeling bad – I spent a lot of years avoiding it, in fact. So it catches me off guard.

I’m staying here until I figure this out. It’s time. And though I can’t make the pain go away, I will stand against the lie that I don’t count. I’m standing up. I’m determined to get through this.

On the other side, I think I’ll be a better writer. I believe I’ll live inside my words then, instead of casting them out ahead of me, hoping they’re true.

This is my risk – my small step. Brave souls have gone before me. I’m challenged by Danny’s post. And emboldened by Niki’s quest for balance! So grateful for the ongoing support in this writing community.