Hyperborea series, 2011, by Anton Ginzburg.
"For the writer, fear arises in exact proportion to the treasure that lies shimmering between the dragon's feet. If you are greatly afraid, there is something great to fear."
I've been procrastinating on writing this blog post. When we procrastinate around something that we know we love doing, generally this is a red flag for fear. Sometimes it arises as "I'm just not feeling inspired" or "I don't know what to write about." But actually if you look past these statements they're code for "I'll just tell myself I'm not inspired or that I don't know what to write about because truth is, I can feel fear coursing through my blood".
Inspiration is constantly running through us. We literally breathe it in. It's like water running through a tap or radio waves channelling through a transmitter. It's only when fear shows up that it puts a kink in the hose and interferes with the signal.
It really amazes me how terrifying the whole process of baring your soul is. Sharing last week's post on the inner workings of my heart felt a bit like those dreams where you rock up to school naked. Except instead of having everyone point and laugh at me, I received an unexpectedly large wave of "hey, I've felt that too".
Photo by Asiko.
“The man who writes about himself and his own time is the only man who writes about all people and all time.”
If we don't share those exposed parts of ourselves, then we all keep perpetuating the myth that everyone else has their shit together. We end up becoming prisoners in our aloneness, thinking that we're the only ones dealing with feelings that are actually just part of human nature.
How did we become so afraid to just be who we are? Who told us that we will be ridiculed for exposing our deeper selves? When did we forget that the personal is universal; that sharing our stories is as ancient as the trees and that we all walk this winding road together?
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