One evening in 5th grade, I was brave.
I sat with my family in a booth at a local steakhouse, mouth watering. I couldn’t wait to sink my teeth into a piece of oversized, buttery Texas toast.
For now though, a plastic bowl of salad sat before me.
I stared at the iceberg lettuce. This was a defining moment in my young life, because for years I’d been scared of plants. (Long story.) Now I was about to eat one?
My parents looked at me.
“It’s time, Marla,” said my mom.
In my mind, I’d always imagined myself adventuresome. Fearless. The kind of girl who screamed back at monsters!
“Mar-laaa…” my mom repeated more intently, raising one eyebrow as she spoke.
I stalled a moment more, then sat up and drew in a dark, even breath as I brought a forkful of salad to my mouth.
I took the world’s smallest bite of one little lettuce leaf.
“I didn’t die,” I thought to myself.
I shoved the rest of the salad into my mouth, making a horrid face, I’m sure. I chewed and swallowed. Fast.
“Whoa!” I nearly shouted.
My family laughed.
Folks in the booth next to us probably stirred at the noise, but I didn’t care. At nine years old, I’d done it. I shouted at the monster. I bravely tasted salad for the first time.
Texas toast tasted pretty damn good after that.
***
Life has a way of presenting us with lots of opportunities to be brave, doesn’t it?
This week, I thought about times past, when I…
- ad-libbed between acts as the emcee of our high school talent show…
- picked up a flute and improvised music in the middle of my graduate school poetry reading…
- bought a one-way train ticket to California and followed through with my plans to move cross-country.
A few years ago, I saw myself waving goodbye to my 5-year-old daughter, my husband and my father as an orderly wheeled me away for a heart procedure. That felt brave.
It’s one thing to be brave because life requires it. (I know you have stepped up to face big moments in your life, too.)
It’s quite another thing to consciously choose to be brave.
And that’s where the fun comes in!
As a writer, the practice, pursuit and art of writing can be absolutely thrilling. If you let it.
* * *
Remember that time you decided to…
- Try a new genre?
- Cut back on work so you can write more?
- Attempt to tell the story that really matters, using your most authentic voice?
You chose to be brave.
And every time, you had to form and hold a clear conviction.
I will do it. I will do it now.
Intending precedes the doing.
Please don’t overlook this “inside job” of pursuing writing goals and dreams.
That thrilling, alive feeling you associate with satisfying writing isn’t always accidental. You can help it happen — simply by deciding, with a clear, confident heart — to show up, take a risk and follow through.
I’m not saying the cacophony of fear vanishes. (It usually doesn’t.)
But with a conscious,clear intention and a fierce heart, you can write bravely. No matter what your head is saying.
Your heart is your most powerful ally.
Use it.
