I’m just going to say it. Not sure exactly why I’m always so hesitant to vocalize it, or why I think it matters – but I want to work on Supernatural. There. I said it.
I keep running into this backlash of thought wherein I tell myself that it’s too arrogant or presumptuous to want this. Then I have to remember, anyone with the storyteller streak who has a favorite show/movie/book etc. has probably fantasized about being a part of that story by writing/acting/producing the adventure that stirs within them, some sort of passion.
It’s not wrong. It’s not arrogant to want to be a part of the adventure, anymore than it’s arrogant to want to be picked for the kickball team in fifth grade.
Something excites me and I want to be a part of it. Why is that so hard to admit? Perhaps it’s the admission that brings up fears of unworthiness, of failure or even the fear that I would have to adopt a lifestyle I claim to abhor by charging full-steam ahead to a world that functions very differently than Portland. I have a niche here, but still long for a life less ordinary. I still long to get lost in my fantasy worlds and take readers with me. I still want to be more than a desk jockey or a cubicle hermit.
I’m afraid to actually let myself date or even consider something serious with a beautiful man, because something inside me still wants to fly – and I can’t seem to reconcile the idea that if I fall for someone it won’t hold me back from the next great adventure.
It’s coming back to fear again.
Fear of asking for too much.
Fear of not living up to my potential.
Fear of letting myself get caught in a rut.
Fear of failure.
That’s a lot of fear – and I don’t want to live my life with fear making my choices. Where is my Bliss? I seem to have lost track of it in the last few months. I set it down to pick something up and my clarity vanished. I can’t hear my own song. I’ve fallen out of my own body – not comfortable in my skin suddenly. I know I haven’t strayed too far because there are good people around me and they’d never let that happen.
If you’ve seen it, my misplaced bliss, would you let me know? Maybe it’s tucked behind my ear like a forgotten pen or it got dropped on the floor or the jeep. If you see it, would you mind pointing it out because I’m probably looking right at it and I just don’t recognize it….
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