It’s always in whispers at first, isn’t it?
We mean it, then we don’t. But maybe we do? We have our thoughts, they have their own.
Too opinionated. No backbone. Loose canon. Too innocent. Trying too hard. Too strategic. No voice. All the same. Opportunist. Manipulative. Broken. Too fairy-tale. Only in it for the return. Just looking for fifteen minutes of glory.
Criticism, too many opinions, their voices and our own. It’s all tossed to the open wind, stuffing our brains with cotton and paralyzing all of us with its spine-shattering fear.
So why keep at it?
Why not just give up the whole gosh darn thing?
If you create, why make something new?
If you write, why tell those stories?
If you paint, why pick up the brush?
If you speak, why open your lips?
If you sing, why belt out that melody?
I’m going to venture a guess and say you’re doing it because you have no choice, aren’t you? Because if you don’t make that art, whatever it is, however practical, however mystical, your head will go buzzy and your heart will turn grey and your stomach will be filled with heavy brick.
Let’s not give it up, weary ones.
They say you’re too outspoken? You know what? You’re heard.
You’re too naive? You’re winning them over.
Too private? You’re wise.
Too driven? You’re making it happen.
We’re all in this together, me with my discretion and you with your open book. You keep your secrets, I’ll tell mine, we’ll see-saw our way through this journey of ours, toward becoming ourselves, toward growing up, toward learning what it is we’re even trying to say. We’re telling our tales as we live by them, we’re singing our songs with full lungs, we’re dancing until our limbs go numb, we’re discovering truth in the dank cellars and the sunshine.
Keep at it, wild hearted life liver. You’re doing just fine.
song h/t Gabrielle