by Molly Jo Realy @RealMojo68
Some time ago, in a galaxy we still live in, This Girl was fighting a war. A war of discouragement and unconscious undermining from those around her.
“Oh, you want to be a writer? Yeah, like that’s going to happen.”
“What’s that, you say? You’ve sold a cookbook? Aw, bless your heart.”
“Gee, that’s a tough gig. What are you going to do for a living?”
This Girl had to make a decision. Either go along with the facade of presenting herself as society says she should ~ quiet, structured, always responsible, living day to day routinely and repetitively ~ or rise against those who fought to stifle the Muse, the ones who called her “crazy.”
She was afraid of her inner self. The self that didn’t fit it, and didn’t want to conform. The self that has known she was born to be *gasp* a Creative. Her Creative Self fought to emerge, but her Responsible Self wouldn’t let it. She was afraid The Others would be proven right. She equated creative with crazy. Oh sure, she’s let the Creative Self see daylight once in a while. Maybe feed it bread crumbs or cupcakes with sprinkles. But once the thing named “Normal” called, she had to lock up the Creative Self. She’s hear it singing through the closed door. Sometimes it would whisper through the keyhole. Sometimes it was silent. But no matter how quiet it was, she still knew it was there.
One day, she gave herself permission to open the door. Just a little. Just a crack. She wanted to give her Creative Self a breath of air. But what happened was the reverse. She found her Creative Self breathing air into her stale, dank soul. Inhaling deeper and deeper, she let it refresh her in a way she’d not known before. What she had thought was the sun was just fluorescent lighting. It was her Creative Self that led her to the real light ~ the deep, penetrating, shield-your-eyes-so-can-see-everything light.
Her Creative Self would tell her things others didn’t know. It influenced her style of dress, manner of speaking, behaviors, and, yes, her thoughts. It structured her schedule and gave her permission to let loose.
But others didn’t see it. Others saw the square peg sticking out of the triangle hole. Sure a corner would fit now and then. But never the whole part. Never the part that was bigger than the hole.
She tried following those who followed the followers who followed the followers who followed the leaders. And when she would break into occasional song and dance, sometimes they hushed her. So she kept most of it inside.
The struggle is real, folks. The struggle is so real. Imagine knowing something about yourself ~ and I mean, knowing, okay? Not the “Gee, I would like to . . .” or the “Hey, I could . . .” but the “This is what I was made for. This is what I am!” knowing ~ and very few others see it or encourage it.
How does This Girl keep going when the rut of daily life gets bigger and longer? Simple. Find a way out by latching on to those already doing what she wants to do, and let them help her climb.
Now, I’m not a mountain climber. But I know if I ever wanted to go there, I should bring certain gear, supplies . . . and a guide. I definitely am not going up a mountain alone.
I also know you (well, I) need to be willing to let go of some things. What This Girl thinks is stability, is just something under her feet. Being tethered to someone higher up on the mountain has its perks. And responsibilities.
This Girl needs to make sure she follows her guides. They’ve been there before. They know the best path. Or not. Maybe it’s a new adventure for all of us. But the point is, we’re in it together. If This Girl slips, another can keep her tethered. Sure, she can lose a little footing, but she won’t lose everything. And what about the others? Yes, now and then they’ll need to slow down, repeat instructions, stop moving ahead.
The goal is for everyone to excel, yes? Y’all don’t need someone resisting your assistance. So it’s also This Girl’s goal to make sure she doesn’t bring the guides down. In fact, it’s This Girl’s goal to someday know enough to toss a tether down to someone else, and help them climb. Even if that tether is designed with Tiffany blue Zebra stripes.
Because it’s worth it.
Because when we are all on the summit together, glorious things await.
Let your Muse out of the closet. Give your Creative Self permission to dance and sing. Sooner or later, someone will want you to help them climb.
CLICK TO TWEET: Frankly, My Dear…: #EmbraceTheCrazy: Climb the Mountain.
Love this! This part especially speaks to me: “I also know you (well, I) need to be willing to let go of some things. What This Girl thinks is stability, is just something under her feet.”
Thank you, Kathie. I love hearing when someone else “gets” what I’ve written. Not everything is a foundation. It’s okay to free fall a little now and then, it makes us flap our wings, right?
So true, Molly Jo! Writers need each other!
We do, definitely. Thank you, Mary. You’re a blessing.
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Thank you. I had such joy when this post came together.
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Molly Jo, Thank you for this post! I’ve never read anything like this before, but I have felt it!
Oh, I humbled, Cherilyn. Thank you for visiting. Yup, tether up and climb your mountain!
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