Frankly Speaking

Pursue, keep up with, circle round and round your life... know your own bone:
gnaw at it, bury it, unearth it, and gnaw at it still.  ~Thoreau

It all comes down to fear. I am afraid.

I've been thinking in spare moments. In the few minutes walk from the bus stop to the school. In the few minutes waiting for my macchiato in the coffee shop. In the few minutes while I wash the dishes. When I find myself thinking about why I'm not doing what I'm meant to be doing, I try to stop myself. But tonight, I didn't get to myself soon enough.

Why am I still struggling to get up in the morning? Why am I still spending more time reading blogs than writing one? Why am I still spending more time planning how I will study Korean than actually studying Korean? Why am I still talking about the planning stages of my writing project with Kenny instead of writing it? Why am I reading 10 different books now instead of writing one? Why am I lying in the bed for two extra hours in the morning instead of moving my body?

Today, while grading tests, I felt the fear turn over in my stomach. I realized I wasn't attempting anything because I was afraid of failing. I'm afraid of finding out that I'm not capable of what I set out to do. And so, to counteract the possibility of failure, I find ways to make sure I cannot succeed. I always have an excuse. My business seems to be creating excuses. 

I'm struggling to get up in the morning because if I have extra time, I should have something to show for it. What if I don't have anything to show? I'm spending more time reading other people's blogs than writing on mine because what if I don't get any comments, and no one reads my posts, and I'm not who I think I am to the blog world? I'm spending more time planning my study of Korean because what if I study a lot and hard and do the best I can and I never improve? I'm still talking about writing our book because what if I try to write my sections and it doesn't come together? What if I am not a writer at all? I am reading books because it's an excuse for not writing one myself. What if I stop reading and start writing, but nothing ever comes of it? I'm refusing to exercise because what if it doesn't help? What if I'm this big a year from now? What if I give up before I see results? I am afraid of failure.

Even in teaching, I find myself holding something back. I'm afraid that if I give it everything I've got and yet my students don't excel, I will find I am not a good teacher. 

I keep telling myself that these things are waiting for me. They are waiting for me to get up the guts and do something. But what if they're not? What if, at 26 years old, I have to start over? 

I'm afraid of being lost. 

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