cybertrash and beyond...

A few weeks ago I panicked at the thought of anyone reading my ramblings on this blog site.  I believed that somehow if my writing was perceived as being less than intelligent, lacking entertainment value and worst of all, just plain boring that I was then diminished as a person.  In one efficient move, I eliminated the possibility of judgment and cast my blog into the outer darkness of cybertrash. The regret followed almost immediately.  What could cause me to think so little of myself?  I love writing, even if it is often a torturous process and even if there are few moments of real freedom and breaking through.  

The sad truth is that I am the one judging my writing and finding it lacking. Whatever anyone else thinks of this blog is their business and has nothing to do with its actual value or with me.  I find value in the making of it and that is reason enough to do it.  No need to compare myself to other writers (and we are legion).  No reason to expect that I will produce something amazing and that through my efforts the world will be changed.  Only one reason to write and that is because I must.  To feel whole and true and at peace with what arises and passes away in this story of mine, writing must have it's place.  When I write these words I feel a quiet joy fluttering deep in my body like a tiny bird taking flight.  There is a rightness in saying all of this in front of the world- even if the world never knows that it has been said.

My daughter is an artist-  abstract painting is the way her artistry is currently manifesting.  I would never dream of thinking, much less saying the kinds of things to or about her that I routinely think and say about my own path of creative expression... rather, I am open and curious and supportive of her work.  I delight in her successes and feel compassion for her struggles.  Is it possible that I could be so loving with my own slow journey?  My own small achievements such as resuming this blog even after a moment of panic and reckless reactivity?

Yesterday I was reading about rigidity in meditation practice.  The advice given was to continue to do the practice and not to press directly on the resistance because that would just make it stronger.  So here in this blog I will just persevere, writing and not pushing too hard on the tension and resistance.  Not providing myself with more excuses to give up and run away, only to return some months or years from now, still frightened, uncertain, and ashamed but desperate to fill up the pages.  I don't have to try to measure up to the work of Natalie Goldberg, Gail Sher, Susan Piver or any of my other writing teacher/mentors.  I can just be here, writing this and knowing that it is enough.