The first stumble is inevitable. After a strong blogging start, my old friend Self Doubt remembers that I exist and reaches out with its clutching, smothering fingers.
Long time, no see! Why are your hands around my neck?
It’s always just a matter of time before the old chatter starts up: why bother with words when you pick all the wrong ones? Why give so much of your time and energy with little or no visible return? Why be so brutally honest when removing the layers leaves you with less armor to protect yourself? Why keep reaching out when the faces around you seem blank, uninterested, turned inwards on their own plight? Why bother trying to create when everything’s been said, done, drawn and written before?
Well, I’ll tell you why. Since you asked, dear old friend. It’s because I know you lie.
Obfuscate. Dramatize. Overestimate your own importance. You see, Self Doubt, I know you don’t have my best interests at heart. Your meddling is presented as being for my benefit, but we both know it isn’t so. The victories you claim only ravage the landscape of my imagination, rather than build anything of importance.
And, while I’ve got you on the line, I want you to know, your time has come. There’s no room for you here anymore. The space once held for you has been repurposed. Once a storage closet, now a portal into the intriguing, blessed unknown. You stand in what has now become a doorway and I need you to stop blocking my path.
All of the things I’ve let you take away from me over the years, a clever pickpocket in a crowd of the rich, I now reclaim. This is my space. You are not wanted.
So, Self Doubt, the next time you stroll in with your self-aggrandizing ways, remember that I’ve heard it all before and I’ve chosen to discard your narrow world view.