between the two

      Photo Credit: Google Images            Edited by: Aubrey Stout

Today is one of those mornings I find myself curling up into a ball of self-doubt. As most of you know I have began this journey of becoming a writer, and for some reason, I stood up, waved my hand as high as I could and volunteered myself to write for a friend's non-profit. Then as soon as I was called on, my face turned beat red, and my voice shriveled up, and I realized the potential of the train wreck if I fail.

I'm standing in two reflections...

 :: the one that thinks I can :: and the on that thinks I can't ::

My emotions are literally choo-chooing their way up the mountain saying, "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can," while simultaneously stalling out half way and chugging their way back to the starting line. I ask myself if this is what all writers experience. Are they constantly gripping the handlebars on their emotional roller coaster?  

I recently read that Emily Dickinson's desk was 17 1/2 inches by 17 1/2 inches. {I think my computer monitor is bigger than that!} On that teeny, tiny desk, she wrote. In fact, she eventually became a recluse and confined herself to her room, but on that desk, in that room, I imagine she too, struggled with her two reflections. She had thousands of poems {most of them weren't discovered until after her death}, but only a dozen or so of them were published, and often times changed dramatically by her publishers for not subscribing to the current standard of poetry format and conventions. 

That didn't stop her! We all know her name!

While I currently have no aspirations for everyone to know my name. I do ask myself what advice I'd give my children, or my husband. I'd tell them not to be afraid of failure. Sometimes our greatest lessons come from our greatest fears. Do the benefits outweigh the risk?

So as I contemplate my own advice I ask myself which one I'll choose.

The puddle of self-doubt? Or the waves of confidence?

I suspect the answer is residing somewhere between the two. I don't have to choose. The two sides of me are working to help strike a balance between who I want to be and who God already knows I am. I'm gripping the handlebars and he's pushing the pedals.