Did you see it tonight?

It is amazing!

The ground is glowing and it’s casting shadows here and there.

I want to wake you and drag you outside to look at it with me.  I want to take your hand and dance madly together in its beams.

But I can’t.

It is up there all the time.  Most nights I give it cursory glance, sometimes taking note of its location in the sky, but on nights like tonight…

It drew my attention forcing me to stop and stare.  And when I did, I wanted to sing and cry at the very same time.  I studied its details.  I marveled at its light.  I didn’t want to go inside and lose my view.

Will it ever look again like it does tonight?  Will I see it in the same way?  It’s the fear that I won’t that made heart hurt as I moved my eyes away.

A big ole rock in the sky and yet what I think I’m trying to say is: the moon was cool.

I just wanted you to know.

It’s just that…

I just wanted to apologize.

JUST

I hate that word!

And yet, it appears in my writing all the time.

It’s like I’m begging you to give me a chance.  Every time I use it, I feel like I’m pleading for the opportunity for my words to have meaning.

Why can’t they stand on their own?  Why do they need further explanation?

I was just hoping that you would…

Say what you mean girl.

Is it a lazy writing habit or a cry from the little girl inside who still wants approval–who wants to be accepted in this world as she is?

It can be frightening to spill your thoughts onto the page for others to read.  Of course, I could hide them in a journal and burn them when I’m through, but how does that start a conversation?  How does that allow for connection?

I mean if the words are just for me…

(that’s the little girl again, afraid to ask for what she wants)

Just has a different definition of course.  Used in its alternative it is strong and truthful and powerful–it has right on its side.

And that is what it all comes down to.

Do I just right?  Or do I write justly?

I want to sincerely thank my thoughtful friends Tanya, Amy and Jenny for inspiring these thoughts.

The new year may mean the beginning of a new business for me.

I know I can start it. Resources abound for getting it going. I’m pretty sure I can even get a client or two.

What is holding me back is fear of failure, fear of making a bad decision, fear of hitting a wall.

Intellectually, I know it takes hard work and trial and error to become a success. I already live with the regret of roads not taken for these same sorts of fears. The conflict inside is making me feel sea-sick.

I want to move forward. I think it’s a path I’m supposed to explore. I know the fears that are creeping in are the usual ghosts trying to sabotage my progress. I even know how to name them this time, and yet…

When my dog tries to jump on me, I turn around. I deny her attention and she gets the message quickly. Can I turn my back on these voices–the voices telling me I’ll never have the talent, the voices telling me I’ll never be more than a hack?

No way to know unless I try. And THAT? That is scary.