I was sure there had to be another way of thinking of this. I was tired of being terrified of beginning my submission process again. There had to be a way that I could see and understand my fear that would make it OK. I needed to reframe it. And so I thought and thought as I drove the hour and a half home from Baltimore last night.
You see, while having our birthday lunch a month ago, my best friend looked me in the eye and made me promise I’d start submitting my writing again. She said my stuff is as good as anyone’s out there publishing now on the same subjects. She likened my writing to life coach Martha Beck’s. I’m slightly speechless. And this is what best friends are for.
Publishing my personal essays in magazines and online publications has been a longtime goal of mine. And after repeated attempts to publish my stuff in the wrong places, I gave up. It was too hard and felt too raw. The rejection felt like being outcast and that wasn’t fun. So last night I again questioned myself as to why I have wanted to do this and what my fear really was. And I discovered the truth and the way around it in my answer.
You see, when you are thinking that your life’s work is all about you and your ego, you are easy prey for the fear of rejection. It’s always personal. But when I started to think of the good that my writing has done even so far, the permission that it has given people to do brave things, I realize it is of me but it is not mine altogether. Like a child, you need to set it free for the world to enjoy. In making it about me. I’ve lost sight of what’s important. The writing is the most important thing.
I have found a purpose in my passion. I am here to tell my story and in sharing it, if it helps one other person than it’s worth the work and risk and fear to have done so. I have heard the thirty or so people who have told me to keep going, keep writing what they’re thinking. As I said before, I need to submit…to the process that I now understand is part of a larger plan I can not see. As long as I make it about me, I stay small. The fear is about being rejected. But really it’s about being accepted. I am afraid of discovering that I spent all this time hiding and controlling my talent for fear of nothing.
Staying small is no longer an option. It was OK that while I grew as a writer, I stayed small. My blog was a tiny universe where I told my truths and culled my skills as a writer. But the time has come, my 50th year I suppose was the doorway to the next phase, when I need to risk being a bigger better me. Although the faith is wobbly, I am doing the next thing and the next thing. And making it about my readership. I am devoting myself to to my best work for the people who enjoy reading me. For my future book lovers, I am committing to making them proud, giving them the words that they want to pour over and highlight and quote. Because I sometimes see that what I write is even 30% better than what I thought it was.
Before the end of the year, there will be big changes in my blog. Keep your eyes wide open my lovely readers.
And If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your emailbox. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter orPinterest too. I am always practicing Intentional Intouchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.
And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.