If you spend enough time surfing through the blogosphere you’ll find a thousand posts that describe how the author has always felt like they are standing on the outside looking in. A thousand posts in which people share their past and or current anxieties about not being smart/handsome/pretty/rich or good enough.
A thousand posts that really help to illustrate that as different as we all are we all have our moments of shame and insecurity. If you are lucky you are one of those people who find a way to gain a level of comfort with who you are and these posts are nothing more than reflective moments about times gone by.
I can’t speak for anyone else, but I think that I fall somewhere in between. I am very comfortable with a lot of things. I know who I am. I know what my strengths and weaknesses are and what I want out of life. The hard part for me is not identifying those things but trying to determine the best way to achieve them.
There are many days where I go to bed exhausted, butÂ exhilaratedÂ because I know that I am on my way to the place I want to be. But there are also plenty of moments where I feel like I am on the outside looking in. I look out and see friends and family who seem to have done a much better job of figuring it all out.
I look out and I wonder what they saw that I didn’t. I look out and I ask myself why I couldn’t have been smarter or more patient. I stare at the mirror and shake my head because it feels like the reason I don’t have what I want is staring right back at me.
And I silently wonder if it is because I am my own worst enemy. Maybe I am just stupid. Maybe I am socially challenged or crippled or something. Right, it has to be something because those other guys really aren’t that different from me and they made it.
I don’t have too many moments like that. In part it is because I am fortunate enough to have some amazing friends. And some of the people that everyone thinks have it made are just as insecure or upset about their lives as everyone else.
Confession: sometimes it is nice to hear your friend tell you that they feel like a complete screw up. It is not because we wish them ill, but because it is reassuring. It is that affirmation that we really aren’t all that crazy.
Don’t ask me why I switched from writing I to we. I haven’t any answer other than it is past my bed time.
Anyway, this part of blogging is what I love. This opportunity to write down my thoughts and feelings is one of the key Â elements that keeps me writing. It is my own therapy and the release is important to me. And I am really just starting to understand the depth of that importance to me.
I am really just beginning to figure out that in addition to the writing I have been searching for other ways to express myself. The music I share and the stories I write are all part of that release. That is not to suggest that the only reason I write is for that therapeutic release because it is not.
I really do enjoy telling stories. There is something special about taking words and ideas and crafting something out of that. I don’t do it as well as I would like to, but that is part of why I keep at it. Practice makes perfect.