If you can't read right now you can listen to me reading the post to you here*
Writing is like walking up to an ice rink for the first time. It’s all very intimidating and you stay standing at the entrance wondering if the experience is worth it. People seem to be having fun in the rink. They pass you by laughing and smiling, but still, you wonder if it’s as fun as it looks or if it’s all pretend. So many things could go wrong. The fall looks painful, the blades on your feet are weapons and you just don’t trust yourself with them. You wonder if you can actually do it. It’s your first-time skating and honestly, you’re terrified of the pain. And this promises to be painful; but at the same time, it promises so much joy.
Someone, you’re not sure who nudges you forward, and slowly but surely you take the first step. You wobble a little bit trying to catch your balance before you put that other foot in. Without thinking much about it, because if you think it through, you’ll just go back, you put your other foot in, and the world changes.
You start moving close to the wall, holding on, testing your skills. However, every little paragraph you write feels like a step away from the wall. Soon you’ll be in the middle of the rink with no other option but to hold yourself up.
As you let go of the wall the scene changes again. Now you’re not in an ice rink but in an open field; frozen and dark. And now the only option you have is to go forward. You’ve gone too far to go back, so you just keep going. Every once in a while, you wonder why in the world are you even doing this? Is all this uncertainty worth it? Will you ever get to your destination? Without knowing the answer to your questions, you stop. No more writing; no more skating. You stop for just a minute, but it feels like an eternity as if life goes by and you’re standing frozen.
You look around, still wondering. You look back to where you came from and realize that, yes, you can always go back. But is that what you really want? The field is dark and scary, and you find yourself wanting to go back to the safety of the wall. But you’ve come so far, don’t you want to know where this path leads you? So, without any real answers, you breathe in and restart your journey with the hope that someday you’ll reach your destination.
I hope you enjoyed my take on what writing feels like to me. Honestly, every time I write, I see that dark field ahead and the safety of the ice rink wall behind me. I always struggle with the choice of stopping or keeping going and thankfully the latter has always won. But even if the doubt persists I hope I never give up writing, because, as scary as it is, it always brings me immense joy.
Please comment your thoughts on writing and how would you explain what writing feels to you. Also, if you enjoyed it, please share, I would really appreciate it.
With lots of love,