Sunday Scribblings: What would you attempt if you knew you would not fail?
I’m challenging myself to write again. The way I’m doing it is I decided to work from a list of prompts in Sunday Scribblings blog. I will post the product of each writing prompt every week on Sunday. I might write an essay or a poem or a reflection. I just need to start writing again.
I read the prompt and an idea immediately entered my mind. I knew exactly what I would attempt if I knew I wouldn’t fail. But then again, my mind was trying to filter my response. I was soon faced with the choice of writing on the answer that rushed effortlessly out of the deep caverns of my soul or a safe answer. Hemingway helped me choose. On the landing page of my site, I had long ago placed a Hemingway quote to greet people who got lost through the recesses of the internet and stumbles on to my site.
“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”
I guess that settles that question. I need to be honest, sit down at my computer, and start bleeding. Oh my words, this is about to get extremely messy.
What would you attempt if you knew you would not fail?
I’d fall in love.
Yes. That is my initial gut answer to that question.
And yes. I am currently laughing at myself. What a ridiculous answer! Or is it?
I find it hard to trust people. One of my professors in college told our class, “People are messy.” He’s right. We are. Loving someone and giving them a part of your heart means giving them the option to hurt you. I might have read that somewhere, but there is some truth to that. I’ve seen and experienced what it’s like when people hurt you - whether intentionally or by accident. And it is messy! I’m not saying that I’ve been hurt more than other people. I don’t think so. I’m not exaggerating my pain, nor am I discounting others’ pain. I’m not comparing my pain to others’. I’m just acknowledging that pain is a pretty good motivator for me to avoid things. And this girl has got the memory to store all those life experiences. To quote another very prolific character, “If you want to leave, you can. I’ll remember you though. I remember everyone that leaves” (Lilo from “Lilo and Stitch”).
Enough of my baggage. If any of you are students of psychology, you can psychoanalyze me at a later time.
If I knew I wouldn’t fail, I’d fall in love. No. Scratch that. I’d jump knowing that something’s going to catch me at the bottom of that hole to Wonderland. I feel like I probably had that kind of optimism and zest for life when I was young, unaware of how messy life can get. Today, the woman who greets me in the mirror has gone through her fair share of painful moments. She has scars as proof. She doesn’t jump in with abandon. Instead, she puts her toes in gingerly, testing the abyss. Even then, she seems to contemplate staying on solid ground because it’s the least amount of risk.
Let’s address the elephant in the room. (Would it still be an elephant if it’s in writing?) Since I’m airing my baggage to the world, let me be frank. I have struggled to view myself as someone lovable. Someone who’s not good enough. Something must be wrong with me, right? And it’s more than very possible that my reticence to jump in has everything to do with the fear of being unlovable. Of being too difficult… Of being considered as too demanding… Too neurotic. Too much.
I’m afraid. (I was going to write that I was afraid, but I had to remind myself about the whole bleeding thing. I think it’s safe to assume that honesty comes highly recommended.) I am afraid. I’m afraid that if I let people in, they would see me and truly know me and then come to the conclusion that I’m… too much. So much weight depending on another person!
As I’m sitting here, reflecting on this, I realized that I have no clue what else I’m going to write in this first-ever prompt. I guess I can always ask myself the exact opposite question and then see what my gut has to say about that.
What would you still attempt if you knew you will always fail?
The answer surprised me. Well. Maybe it wasn’t that much of a surprise.
I’d fall in love.
Even with the baggage and the realization that people are messy, love (whether romantic, friendships, or familial) requires courage. Whether in the face of failure or success.
Now what? Where does all this leave me?
Honestly, I don’t know. And that’s ok. Let’s just pray for the courage to face things one day at a time. I’m pretty sure I can tackle one day at a time. Honestly, that’s all that is asked of us.
April 26, 2020
