I’m having a bit of writer’s block this morning, and I tend to believe that, when we have writer’s block, it’s because we are not allowing ourselves to be either open, honest, or vulnerable.  It’s almost as if there is some sort of fear behind it–fear of writing something silly or stupid, fear of being judged.  I’ve actually been sharing my blog links–mostly ones from the past–with lots of new people, and I think that combined with this week’s newness has sent me into that post-vulnerability hangover–the one where you worry if you said or did the right thing, the one where you wonder if everyone loves you or hates you.  Or if they just don’t care at all.

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Because this is what I do when I have writer’s block. Map’s cool, though, right?

Fear and worry are very real.  One time–and I can’t, for the life of me, remember exactly when or what it was about–someone very offhandedly told me that I had an irrational fear, dismissing my feelings and rolling their eyes.  While fear and worry are very real, they are simultaneously irrational, due to the fact that what you fear is something that has not happened yet.  You can’t predict the future; however, our past is our best predictor of the future, and so, as a conscious species, we rely on it to help us move forward.

But it’s a balance.  A life dominated by these fears and worries is a life unlived, and a life neglectful of our fears and worries is a frivolous one, which is why I’m grateful for a number of things this morning after finishing my first week of work in a new place.

(1) I’m grateful for my support systems, even though they are not immediately present beside me. Because words go a long way (like… 2,000-miles long) when you’re feeling unsure, and I’m grateful that my friends’ and family’s words have given me that boost of courage to keep on moving.

(2) I’m grateful for all of this week’s fear and worry.  I’m not really one to say that everything happens for a reason, but I’m glad that I can invest reason into the fear and worry retrospectively.  Being afraid is very humbling, and we all need that sometimes.  It’s important to remember that we are fortunate, and having a fear is simply another indicator of how grateful we are for what we have.  We just can’t let that fear dominate.  Instead, we can lean into it, acknowledge the feelings, and continue on.

(3) I’m grateful for new friends. As I walked out of happy hour yesterday, after a long week of work, I watched as my new friend hopped into the cab in front of us.  It dawned on me then that all of these people–the people that are slowly and surely going to shape this new version of me and become another extension of my support system–were merely faces on a screen a week prior.  I read their bios, humbled by the opportunity to work with them, increasingly anxious to join a team of such high caliber.  Bringing those faces to life was scary–for reasons already mentioned–and exhilarating at the same time, because it shows that in order to take that risk and find a new life, it’s essential to leave our old ones behind in some capacity.  Before we know it, though, that new life, those new people, that new setting…

They all seem like they’ve always been there, waiting for us.

2 thoughts

  1. ahhh i totally know what you mean by writer’s block stemming from a post-vulnerability hangover. i’ve felt like that and wanted to crawl into a cave and hope i never see anyone i know in person again until they’ve forgot what i wrote!

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