I’ve been afraid to write…

It’s been months since I sat down to write.

I kept putting it off as though it was something not that important and would “get to later,” not realizing that it’s one of the things that make me feel the most alive.

Our ability to express ourselves is what makes us powerful in our humanness, and I’d been denying myself this lifeline.

And for what? Why? Because of fear.

While some of it was fear over how I would be perceived, a bigger part of me feared I was a writer fraud and had nothing of substance to say.

As though my voice didn’t matter.

As though my thoughts didn’t matter.

As though the contents of my heart didn’t matter.

But at this very moment, I realize it’s time to stop letting my ego mind take the lead, stop making it about me, and instead allow my heart to speak.

I’ve been holding onto the idea that in order to be a writer, I needed to “act like a writer” by setting the scene, creating the ritual, and formally beginning the writing process.

While there’s a time and place for that setup, this moment wasn’t it. In this moment, I needed to listen to my intuition as it subtly guided me to pull out my phone and write. And in doing so, trust that whatever came out would be the most authentic expression of the contents of my heart.

I continue to unlearn the perfectionistic tendencies that have kept me stuck throughout my life.

Consistently waiting for the “perfect” conditions does nothing but keep you consistently in the same place.

If there’s no movement, there’s no movement.

How can I call myself a writer when I’m denying my heart its ability to express? No wonder I’ve felt like a fraud. I hadn't been allowing myself to do the very thing I so desperately wanted and needed to be doing.

Well, that stops here. Now. With this very musing.

From here on out, I’m allowing my heart to speak. And whatever she has to say is alright with me.