The Year of Living Deeply 16: I have carried it with me each day

I have carried it with me each day, that sense of shame about the fact that I write, that it wasn’t really what my family expected or wanted me to do

that sense of of guilt of transgression of saying things in it – the finding of what and how to say these things – that I did not know before I began

that which always scares me because what I do think I have is a pretty good idea – a clear idea – of what needs saying once I have started to say it

and that scares me a little – each time it scares me – even though I have done it a thousand times before

because I know ultimately what I am doing is saying no to the silence that would otherwise engulf me or persuade me to never speak again

8 Comments

  1. I feel that too: that by writing, that by trying to put into words some of the most difficult to define thoughts and feelings, I am doing something that should not be done, that it has no value to anyone, no purpose, no point – much as I would not understand someone with OCD who felt it important to arrange their furniture and every artefact in a room so that it was exactly as it should be (in their mind).

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  2. I am sure you will not be vanquished by the silence or unable to write, Anthony. This blog is proof of that and affects your readers too who are encouraged to create again. I certainly have come into a good phase , due in part to the example you offer. So thank you for that.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you Ann. This is a lovely comment to wake up to. I shall copy this one out into my kind thoughts book. I am so pleased to have been of encouragement to you, and humbled too. With best wishes and thanks again, Anthony

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  3. I applaud your success in finding your own voice, instead of that of your family. I commend you in continuing to live your own Truth, instead of those expectations that have been thrust upon you by others. Speak the speech, I pray you!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Lovely. I think of Walt Whitman, how his family disparaged his lazy, poetry-writing ways. Creating is frightening. Can I articulate this well? Will I disappoint myself or others? With this post you did not disappoint.

    Liked by 1 person

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