The cacophony of items streaming through my mind when I started my blog were very bipolar. The greatest item was the desperate need to overcome my fear of failing as a writer. I have always been a writer, despite being dyslexic words have always taken me beyond the mundane ways of life. I have always hidden my words because like many others I am damaged goods. My over riding sense of unworthiness amongst the mass of voices already out there and the ones clamoring to be heard have always informed me how insignificant I am. Therefore I have rarely shared any of what I write. I have a novel that I started thirteen years ago. I stopped working on it about five years ago because of my devastating inner monologue. The words have never ceased to flow from my mind to the laptop. It is just that my fear is so certain they have little value compared to the ones that are already there. This is the hope upon which I have dwindled into a 42 year old hack.
My husband and I bought ourselves a motorcycle for our 21st anniversary last October. That one tiny choice led to my reinvigoration. I had never been on a bike before. Truthfully, I was terrified of being so vulnerable to pain but my husband was a gentle tutor. He schooled me on letting go of my tension and fear. The more we rode the further we traveled. The roar of the motor combined with the intensity of the wind brought my mind to a singular focus. I am a writer. The ride clarified my thoughts. The inspiration of all that surrounded me seemed to quiet my insecurity and erase my previous failures.
I have been constricted by the alleged rules of society all of my life only to discover that the only rules are the ones I create. I am trying to hone in on making my existence one of true liberation. I seek to liberate myself from doubt, self hatred, self destruction. I have been a slave to those for way too long. They have worn me down to a tired self loathing lump of physical and emotional pain that was moved or stilled by the whims of the powers greater than me. I never wanted to live a life dependent on the kindness of others but there I was moaning about how miserable I was due to the injustices and misdeeds of the world around me. My life had become a passive one and passivity was a brutal master.
I wanted to rage against my fate and our anniversary gift was revealing the universal secrets of rebelling and living outside the boundaries. The bike was an ethereal key to unlocking the shackles of my fear and setting me on a path of actively living true to the soul within me. My blog is my coming out into the light of liberty, a step on the path of actively living true to the writer in me. The truth that drives me to create my blog is to quiet my fear and prove that my insights are of value in this world. Even if only to myself, my words are worthy and if by some miracle I am a gifted writer then my emancipation will be completed.
Fear derides me
Panic hides me
Berating soul
Dividing whole
Imprisoning self
Depriving health
Imploring hate
Eroding fate
Building the cell
That emulates hell
Promoting silence
Inviting violence
Stealing my way
From the bright ray
Terror my chains
Pain my stocks
Fear reigns
This battered box
