I’ve forgotten how to write. Ever since ‘that’ post about a week ago, I’ve felt the uncertainty of someone who leapt on the wild horse of vulnerability and held on for about 12 seconds before being thrown into the air like a rag doll, my ego landing in a messy heap.
‘This is what happens,’ my inner critic wags its finger at me, ‘when you talk about feelings. Rookie mistake.’
But critics always sit in the cheap seats. So they don’t know that just before you step into the arena, heart wide open, you feel alive… terrified but victorious. You feel life coursing through your veins. You feel brave.
Having said that, as soon as you’re out there, you instantly wail, ‘what have I done??!’ ‘Please tell me I did the right thing!’.
But there’ll be no reassurance.
A gladiator (even one who feels like a messy rag doll) can’t be reassured from the outside. Out there in the open (your blog, your job, your relationship), a gladiator can only face the question on the inside:
“Knowing how it feels to show up in your vulnerability and uncertainty, are you still glad you showed up?”
And the ego answer is, ‘are you crazy? Of course I’m not glad. This sucks. Being vulnerable is stupid.’
But under that, the soul answer is, ‘yes. I feel like I’ve been in the ring with Mike Tyson but I am glad that I said what I was afraid to say. I’m glad I’m free. I ran with the wild horses. And I’ll run with them again.’
You will run with the wild horses again too
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