So here I am sitting down in front of this blank, empty, and completely daunting screen, without any real idea as to what I want to write about, but nevertheless committing to the process – the blindly awkward and completely uncomfortable one.
It’s been almost 6 months since I have written anything and I’m fairly nervous that I have let it go for far too long – my wheels are incredibly squeaky. And as I sit with this realization, fear and doubt have pulled up their chairs and are ready to commit as well – a good old fashioned Battle Royale if you will.
Man, all of the things I tell myself, the thoughts that hold me back, and the narratives that I allow to consume me, it’s just straight up nutty. And I know I’m not alone in this. I feel like it happens so often and almost unconsciously that we have to be close to ninjalike in order to even recognize it, let alone conquer it.
There’s this incredible sense of defeat when we fall out of our rhythms – the good ones at least – because in a way it feels like we are falling out of our place in the world. And it’s challenging to find that pace again, the one that picks us up just enough so that we can keep coasting.
It’s a lot easier to just pedal towards something else; something closer, something more familiar, something that requires a little less effort, and something that doesn’t make our wheels squeak.
But we all know where those roads lead us.
So maybe just the intention of knowing where we want to be, while at the same time having no clue how to get there, is just enough to carry us.
Maybe being brave enough to sit in the awkward and uncomfortable-ness of it all is the biggest and most important step we can take.
Maybe fear and doubt aren’t enemies that need to be conquered at all but are simply just misunderstood aspects of ourselves that are trying to protect us in the only way they know how.
Maybe we need to have more compassion and understanding.
Maybe we need to normalize the act of exposing some of our deepest needs and wants.
And maybe with those simple offerings, the process – the blindly awkward and completely uncomfortable one – will start to transform.
Maybe just by voicing what we want, by being with it, and by paying attention to it, the process will start to meet us halfway.
And maybe, just maybe, if we let those squeaky wheels take us where they want to go, we will arrive somewhere we never knew we could be.
I want to get back into writing, I need to get back into writing.
…And it looks like I just did.
What do you need right now? Where do your squeaky wheels want to take you?