Calling the Shame to the Table

What is it about me and absolutes? I need to be all in or all out. If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right. SO many contingencies which completely permit me to opt out of stuff that I really “should” be doing.

Here’s some that have been rumbling around making me dizzy.

If you fail to plan, you plan to fail.

Do I find my true voice so that I can be a writer or

Do I write to find my true voice?

If I fail to start, I fail. If I start to fail, I started.

Our fear is very trixsy. It knows everything we know and can use our best and worst moments against us. For years, and I mean for years and years, I have made promises to myself to branch out and take chances with my writing. While I am completely comfortable with my nakedness here on my blog, I have not caught the updraft to sail into the larger world.

This is a great source of shame for me, as much as my weight gain from the pandemic lockdown. And shame is our worst captor. She works closely with Fear finding ways to make you comply and “stay safe”. I abhor that phrase. My safety makes me ashamed and that’s why I’m telling on myself. I want to release myself from this horrid prison.

I don’t know the right way to start.

I have nothing to say and have never done anything interesting.

I don’t need the hassle of the worry and the fret.

Nothing ventured, nothing lost.

Every day is a good day to start again.

Shame is a sh**show.

And accountability is everything.

I will give you my secret shame and you can hold onto it. I don’t want it anymore.

And I’ll do the same for you if you need me to.

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