Words

I dabble with words in this space, twisting them around observations in a variety of voices.  This, as all things, is a work in progress.

Avoidance.

I am supposed to write.  I don't know how to explain it other than this is my calling, it is what I am supposed to do in my life.  I am supposed to give words to ideas and then share them with a wide audience.  I am compelled to do it in a way that is so terrifying that I avoid it in increasingly elaborate, creative ways.  I am supposed to crack myself open for public consumption, to be authentic, raw, and straightforward about the human experience.  

Things I have done to avoid writing in the past:  

Played stupid video games.  Volunteered every moment of my free time to various organizations.  Made a baby.  Coached soccer, even though I am not a sportser.  Started a business.  Took up knitting.  Organized my bathroom cabinets.  Alphabetized the books and then decided on the Dewey Decimal system and then decided on something else entirely.  Saved a neurotic dog.  Made feeble attempts to learn to play the ukulele.  Colored mandalas.  Drunk copious amounts of wine.

In fact, during the time it has taken to write this post, I have: Stared at the bottom of my coffee cup.  Decided I needed a workout buddy at my gym and posted a request for one from my neighborhood Facebook group.  Shared information on social media about two different chapters of a non-profit.  Stalked a stranger's Facebook page.  Checked my email accounts multiple times.  Stared into space.  Decided to start editing photos in the middle of a sentence.

The avoidance has to stop.  I am hereby committing to writing every day.  I will set a timer for at least 15 minutes and write.  Even if it is crap, I will write.  Even if someone is wrong on the internet, I will write.  Even if photos need to be edited, I will write.  Even if no one ever pays me for my words, I will write.

I must stop avoiding my calling.  I will embrace it.  

I will write.