“What do I want to put out there?” I find myself asking as I putter around the house this morning. The gray and rain have given me permission to keep close to home, so I am housekeeping—dishes, laundry, organizing thoughts.
“What do I want to put out there?”
A three-hour car ride on Thursday allowed space for the final words of story I’ve been working on for five years. It’s done. Almost. It’s beautiful and exciting and…true. But, is that what I want to put out there—raw and honest words? Just like that?
An email arrived this week from the DailyOm, a website of inspirational articles and ideas. “We all have a story to tell,” it said, “allow yourself to be heard.”
Often, these emails arrive like magical messages. Angels whispering in my ear: this is what we want you to know and learn and think about today.
I’ve been invited to display my writing at a local Festival, and I think “What do I want to put out there?” As if these words here, on the world-wide web, are somehow private and unshared.
“When we hide and try to be invisible and unseen by all we are only really hiding from ourselves,” whispered the DailyOm in a second message this week.
Layers and layers have fallen away these past five years: who I pretended to be, who I thought I needed to be, who I thought I was supposed to be. But here, close to home, who I am now is familiar. Authentic.
Ah! But out there? Published? Displayed? Suddenly I am grabbing for masks and wanting to edit myself more than I ever would as I putter around the house gathering words.
Straightening. Straightening. I turn the page in an opened book and read: “You need to know where you are coming from to make authentic your efforts out in the world.”
In answer to my question, no doubt. A whisper dropped into my morning.
• • •