How do you follow your dreams in the face of self-made obstacles?
I started out this morning writing a post on my un-popular political views and about half-way through changed my mind. I will keep it safely tucked away in my drafts to be (maybe) published another day, but I don’t think I’m ready to walk down that road yet. I’m not the most politically minded…I don’t really pay attention to it all as the lying and politically correct explanationsjust give me a headache, but I do have my opinions, be they un-popular or otherwise…but I will leave it at that. obstacles
It’s much like the book, or books, that I’ve been meaning to write. I started many, continued working on few, and finished none. Yesterday I sat and wrote out thousands of words of a book idea on this site, re-accomplishing my Confessions of a Single Mom page, and today I’m considering taking it down. Not that many, if any will read it, but I don’t feel ready to open myself up to the world, or more specifically I don’t feel ready to face whatever criticism or judgement on it, or even more specifically, I don’t feel ready to think about whatever criticism or judgement some stranger in the world who happened apon it has and keeps in his or her own head. I may never be. I get glints of inspiration from time to time and write a chapter or two on something, or a poem, or begin a drawing, but too soon the inspiration fades and my work goes unfinished, unpolished, and is soon forgotten. What’s up with that?
Over the years I’ve been told I’m talented on many artistic-y levels…in my drawings, in my photographs (taken, not posed for), in my poetry, in my writing…but I don’t see it, and worse than that I don’t feel it. I find myself far too concerned with criticism that I don’t get, and far too hurt by the praise that I do get, but don’t feel is genuine. Even after selling my photographic work to a state agency and being commended over and over for my “eye” by a complete stranger, I still see snapshots where photographs should be. Even after putting together a draft-drawing of a fairy for a friend to be permanently etched in her skin for all time, I find myself minimizing my work, telling her that she should get the tattoo artist to make changes here or there (or everywhere) to make it better. And my writing…well, my writing has been a big secret to all those around me since I was in grade school for fear of judgement. Even when I did share it, it was years ago, and it was only with my dad, who coincidentally praised me beyond words…but that is what parents are supposed to do, right? So his praises couldn’t possibly be completely genuine…right?
Why is it so difficult for me to just accept and enjoy a compliment? In this world where people all around think they are better than one another, where people think they are entitled to the maximum when all they put out is the minimum, where people are so diverse in their tastes and preferences that just about anything is considered some form of art and/or beautiful, why can’t I just sit back, bask in the praises and put myself out there?
It’s a roadblock I must overcome if I ever hope to follow through on my dreams. Problem is, I can’t seem to figure out how.
