I wrote the other day about keeping my book to myself. It’s difficult letting it go. There are so many things in the book that I grudgingly place in to the hands of the public. My history, my story, is mine. I know others have theirs and I want to be a light to others, helping them to see their way to a better life. I want people to be able to read through my book so they can see how I managed to make my way out of chaos. I want my book to be something that gives others hope, peace knowing they are not alone, and courage to act.
Action requires courage, if you weren’t courageous you wouldn’t act when you are scared. Being courageous is not a feeling. It’s an action despite (or because) of fear. My book shows how I acted in the face of all that was going on. No matter what I felt, I kept on moving. I was reminded of the Psalm, though I walk ‘THROUGH’ the shadow of death. This requires moving, walking, acting even in the face of fear.
As I reread my book, I’m finding small typos, and less than optimal wording at times. The purpose of reading it was to fix it and make it better. It’ll never be perfect but that’s not the goal. The goal is that people don’t stop reading because they get tired of something I say. I want them to make it to the end so that they know that I made it.
Well, I’m reading it again, for better or worse. It brings things back to me, flashbacks I suppose. It makes me cringe, cry, and be angry all over again. But mostly, I am reminded of my journey. I am reminded to take care of myself, and to be kind to myself.
New fears arise while reading as well. I wonder how certain people will take it. I wonder if it will get into the wrong hands somehow… I wonder if there are wrong hands. I worry about being judged and about what others think and say. I worry that I will be challenged. And if so, if I can handle it. I may lose friends or family because of some of the things I wrote. But is it my fault that they may take it wrong? It is my story, not theirs.
In the midst of my worries, I remind myself: be kind to yourself, remember to eat, remember to read, remember to write… take care of me, be gentle, sleep enough, drink my water, exercise… In short – I must practice self-care and I must practice it consistently.
Back to the book, I’m in the midst of the most climactic part. I feel vulnerable, yet still I keep moving. Reading it over is difficult, but worth it.
thank you for reading,