Creativity, dreams, Emotions, Learning, Life, Motorcycles, Thinking, Writing

Pushing Past the Impossible

When I started this this morning I was contemplating not doing anymore online classes due to it being so difficult with everything going on.  But the more I thought about it the more I realized that it would be the easy way out.  It would be easy to say I couldn’t do it because of work and writing for the paper.  But it wouldn’t be accurate.  What would be accurate would be that I quit because I was afraid to fail.  I was afraid that all my efforts would fail and someone would tell me that I was no longer a writer.  (Writing for the paper is journalism and that is a different type… yes it is writing but there is a difference (to me atleast) between being a journalist and being a fiction writer.)

So after some soul searching I decided to stick with it.  Which means that I need to write my story after I finish doing this.  I do this a lot.  I stop doing some thing I enjoy (or even love) because I am afraid that I will make a mistake and mess it all up.  Riding the motorcycle is another prime example.  I am afraid I will make a mistake.  It doesn’t matter that I do know what I am doing.  I know all the mechanics of riding and I really do enjoy it.  But I psych myself out.  The flip side of that is that I have been ok mentally and even excited to ride and I get on the bike and completely freeze up.  I get so overwhelmed that I have to get off the bike and not ride.  And so my beloved motorcycle sits (thankfully in the garage).  I guess that is how I know that I care about something.  I am terrified of messing it up or making a mistake.

People will tell me that is how you learn but it depends on the mistake.  If I make a mistake on the bike then I will either suffer cosmetic damage to the bike (low end of the spectrum) to death or injury (high end of the spectrum).  If I mess up my classes then I will feel that I am no longer a writer even though it has been my dream forever and I have been writing since I could pick up a pen.  I would lose a piece of my soul.  (I faced similar heartbreak when I tried to go to school for archaeology.  Mom paid for my first semester and I was having trouble getting my paper (which I was very proud of) submitted.  Nothing worked.  I would send the paper via the net and they never got it.  We finally decided to try by mail but I would be penalized with my grade and then I didn’t have the money for postage…. essentially it snowballed and I dropped out.  I still feel like a failure.  But I would try doing the class again if I could.)

So now that I have reopened old wounds it is time for me to get to work on my writing paper.  Thanks so much for reading.  Have a great day and stay safe!

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