I don’t think writing takes courage. Putting words on paper isn’t brave. I do think there are courageous writers, however, and those who are not. There are those who are willing to approach their own Pandora’s box with enough bravery to crack open the lid. To willingly expose oneself to the original ideas and emotions that have been kept locked inside requires courage. It is a sacrifice not all writers are willing to make.
Upon completion of publishing my first book, several people commented on how brave they thought I had been. Ironically, this statement always left me feeling terrified. These readers saw something in the text that they personally may not have shared and I felt like I should hide. Like the adrenaline felt during a game, my courage was high while writing, but it has ebbed ever since.
I’ve thrown a lot of excuses under the bus as to the cause for all the blank sheets of paper before me. In the beginning, I thought my lack of confidence and an equal lack of experience was to blame. Later, I thought if I were able to get an author I respected to be in my corner I’d have the courage to continue. But these annoying thoughts were not the major problem. I have been unwilling to return to the heavy lid holding back my thoughts and emotions.
So, I’ve basically behaved like Rey when she holds Luke’s lightsaber for the first time. The power and depth of the unknown are terrifying. There is a force that calls to me but I know there will be pain involved. Keep that box shut, goggle-lady, I don’t want any part of it.
But I believe a writer who hides from courage is of no more use than a builder who refuses to consult the blueprints. The end product of either person isn’t going to be worth the time and effort.
I know I’ve used a thousand metaphors just to say that I’ve been a wuss. Today, I spent time thinking about the artists I admire. I go back to these same artists and authors because I can identify with them. I can identify with them because they were courageous enough to publicly work through unfiltered thoughts. They sacrificed themselves to the unknown for the sake of others.
If I possessed courage while writing the first book, it’s because a lion showed up at my door and I had no other choice. I hope that any future work I produce is a little less haphazard. I’m setting out to willingly face whatever this internal “box” contains-hopefully using a steady hand. I want to reciprocate the courage that has blessed my life. I’ve become more aware of where I fit in the Body of Christ and I won’t allow fear to hold me captive.
Keeping Focused 