“Where have you been hiding the rock under which you have been hiding your light?”
asked the Goddess.
“I am not a writer, Goddess.” I stated, never even looking up from my seat on the deck to see where she was this time.
Her response was to breathe gently on the windchimes.
“What in the world could I say that hasn’t been said or that someone couldn’t say better or that would have any impact at all on the world as it is.”
This time, she landed in her Chickadee form on the birdbath, took a drink, looked at me, and flew off to the pine tree.
“I don’t like arguing with you – you won’t argue.” I chided, looking back down at my knitting.
That was Sunday. This morning, as I did my little walk around the apartment complex, she called her nonsense from the trees in her Cardinal voice: “cheer, cheer cheer”.
I ignored her pompom waving.
A bit later when at my computer, I chanced upon a draft from 2016 hiding in my e-mail. A piece I’d written in response to a dream I’d had. I read it – it is actually pretty good (even if I say so myself).
Am I supposed to write? I’ve tried many times to write on a regular basis – failing miserably to be consistent and faithful. A podcast I listened to last weekend reiterated the phrase – if you want to be a writer, ya gotta write. (I think that was the Goddess, too. She is nothing if not persistent – and ubiquitous.)
I do have the desire to write – I enjoy the process when I do it, I just don’t do it. I guess writing is just another thing about which I fear failure and need approbation – I hate the idea that I need somebody to tell me I’m good enough – because that’s what this is all about: I am still looking for approval from the outside.
(The Goddess is lurking somewhere around here as I write this – with her reminder that “seeking outside approval is a waste of time” and echoing Yoda’s “Do, or do not: there is no try”.)
Ok, Goddess. I’ll write, If (and I mean IF) I write, it’s only practice. Til I retire. When I don’t knit (that’s you’re fault, too). And it’s only for me and you. For now.
(Guess who just cued the sun to pop out from behind the clouds.)
Where DID I hide that rock?