I Write to Maintain My Sanity
In which fear reveals itself as the common thread in everything I write.
In public and on social media, I wear half-a-heart on my sleeve, sometimes much less. I have a strong tendency for privacy. I appear stoic. You might say I wear a proverbial shell in public settings, making me seem unapproachable at first glance. At the same time, I’m bursting at my core to share, to create, to laugh, to tell you – the world – everything I have to offer. But it’s not so simple because privacy.
Or so I say. It’s a hell of a false burden.
I’ve shared a few of those private topics on Substack lately, one of which was difficult, but brutally honest, and it needed to be put out to the world. It’s called “Current State.”
Current State
It’s hard getting started when you don’t where to begin or where you’re going. Yet, I know I need to go somewhere. I must write.
Brutal honesty is always my preference in what I write. When I use allegory and metaphor, it’s because I feel uneasy spilling certain details and facing certain realities that accompany said details. So I’ll talk in circles, beat around the bush, whatever cliché you prefer to assign to such behavior, until I land on the same old topic of facing fear. Fear of hurting others, fear of not being able to predict consequences, fear of my unknown self.
Fear is a natural response and should not scare us – though it does. It’s typically perceived as a negative, but I’m learning as I go through some things it’s worth embracing as a positive. Fear protects us from predators and dangerous situations, from each other, and from ourselves. It’s when we allow fear to dictate our risk-taking or allowing other forces to determine our next steps we succumb. Then we become agoraphobes and door mats and become isolated.
If I wasn’t writing, or creating any art for that matter, I wouldn’t be honest with the world. After all, we don’t need anymore liars on this planet, especially any who are masking their fears by way of complete lack of creative expression. Think of people devoting most all their available time staring at a screen, living vicariously through the lives of characters and creators. What do they do when the log off the TV, tablet, or smartphone? Sleep or eat, I guess. Then go to work, eat some more food, and slip back into the digital void of vicarious living.
Is that truly living, though? What do they love, hate, or feel apathetic toward? Are there even dynamics in their lives surpassing what they choose for dinner and making sure the rent is paid on time? It feels flat to me, flatter than the glass touch screen displaying the characters and creators living their lives for your consumption.
Flatness is devoid of personality, of interest, of depth.
But having an audience is super cool. It pays more than bills. You get to meet so many more people than you ever would in a regular life.
Consider that authenticity is key to standing out, to finding happiness, to any success, really. It means spilling your guts in ways you thought were only possibly by a machete strike to your abdomen. It means letting others pick apart and analyzing every crease in your brain until it has smoothed over and slides out your ear. It means being willing to eat and absorb every negative response thrown at you and growing stronger in counter-response.
If we didn’t experience fear, we wouldn’t have many stories to tell. We would have boring, flat art. Music would be glimpses of sunlight touching a babbling brook leading to a puddle formed around an overflowing storm drain. Novels would be a series of paint drops on a concrete circular walkway with no intended pattern or sense of connectivity. Who wants chaos and blandness wrapped in a dry blanket?
Look beyond the physical and tangible. Fear is the drama in art, the unknown depths explored beneath the water’s surface, the dynamics in a four-part symphony. Sure, anger does something in the creative process, too, but usually not in the most productive manner. Yeah, happiness and sadness have their roles, as well, but these other emotions are the results of the fear-induced drama, not the catalysts.
Fear is invaluable. Ragged mountain ranges, deep ocean canyons, and endless desert plains are equally terrifying because fear gives us the power of uncertainty to navigate them and the capability to survive those hostile environments. Fear sets us apart from the single-celled lifeforms and unites us with all other animals.
Fear must be celebrated. It enables us to thrive. It fuels our protests, our stances, and our strengths. When we allow it, fear pushes us to our extremes.
Fear of sharing my thoughts for public consumption helps me thrive and maintain my sanity. So here I am.
Are you willing to embrace your fears and use them to your advantage?