Friday, February 12, 2016
To take away.
That's a truly terrify, courageous act.
Before I can walk a minute into the future I have to decide what's coming with me.
Ever looked at a blank page? I mean, really looked? It's empty. That's a tomorrow. My tomorrow. Yours.
Here's the catch.
As soon as I walk into that page I will bring every place I have ever been and everything I have ever seen, said, done, regretted, grieved over, bleed from. I will bring ME. So I fill the page before even breathing a second of this new day.
New things require space. SPACE. I only get space by making it. And since I've discovered that I bring me to every new day, clearly some thoughts, beliefs or actions will have to change or leave entirely.
And it's enough to make me cry.
See I know I'm going to be in that awful half way place. I've removed something, but I'm not sure yet what to replace it with.
And here comes my fear.
What if I don't know what to fill the space with? What if I do know, but I can't do it? Or I try and fail?
Sure I can go back to the way things were, but then every day will look like my yesterday. And then I'm going no where and creating no thing, achieving no goal and never changing. In short, for a writer, I have no new book.
So I think perhaps I do it afraid. I edit anyway. I fail. I try again. I sit there. Face the empty page. Face the full pages and delete what needs to be deleted. I refuse to fill each day with the same crap I brought to it yesterday. And try better. Fail again. Edit again. And again. And again.
And oneday I realise that my tomorrow looks different. It was made up of the sum of all my edits. And maybe I have a book I'm proud of. One that has benefitted from my failing and learning and trying again.
An edit. Maybe not perfect. But at least a life that is written on a new page with new words. A world that is not the same as it was before.
Posted by Tabitha Bird at 5:14 AM