It is quiet; well, it is if you exclude the snoring from the old man dog at my feet. Shouldn't this be the best time to write? Why have the words not come easily to me the past couple of weeks? I felt such a rush of excitement starting this blog. I have always enjoyed the process of writing and felt so certain it was THE THING I needed to do when I started back at it. But the old insecurities quickly crept back in. The worries that what I am writing may not be good enough-or that it is about anything other than MY personal journey-start to infiltrate my foggy brain and stifle my ability to freely express myself. I guess this is similar to starting back to an exercise program.  (which--yeah--I also desperately would like to do now that my bum ankle is on the mend) You have to keep working the body's muscles even when they get tired and sore, right? No different from exercising the writing muscles in your brain. You have to keep putting on the yoga pants and going to the class even when you look around the room and feel like they look like shit on you compared to everyone else. No different from overcoming insecurities about sharing your words publicly! (Which, dear God, I won't be doing WHILE wearing yoga pants...baby steps)

I opened my laptop this morning and was going to begin writing about M's progress thus far with the Texas-grown, medicinal cannabis he has been taking for 2.5 weeks. I've looked at the analytics of this blog. I know that the biggest spikes happen when I share something about cannabis. Although I absolutely want to continue to tell you about the importance of that, I find myself needing to write today about the importance of something different...the importance of feeling safe. I'm not talking about physical safety, (there shouldn't be a need to tell you the importance of that, right??); I'm talking about feeling safe to be you in all of your screwed up glory. I'm talking about feeling safe to say things that might be perceived as weird. Here, I'll give you some examples...I still think about breaking my Mama's back when I'm walking over cracks. Yep. Even at 44 years young! Or this...I sometimes get into my nutty tidying up mode and have weird thoughts like 'If that made-up person in my head who graded people on their housekeeping skills were to pop into my home unannounced right now, I would get extra points if I put away all of the hand-washed dishes that have already dried on the wooden rack next to the sink.' (hello, anal retentive!) I have created an understanding of these goofy thoughts. I realize that since life is so often out of my hands, these trivial notions are things that I can gain control over, and that seems to give me a little balance and mind clearing when the other stuff goes off the rails. 

But this goes beyond just the weird thoughts.  This idea of feeling safe permeates one's entire ability to express themselves creatively. Although I've always had a strong creative side to me, I didn't realize until my 40s how my insecurities had held me back in expressing it fully. And me writing this blog post certainly doesn't mean that I have miraculously awakened to a new feeling of safety of expression, but it does mean that I am open to the realization and am moving toward it. I am so thankful for all of the artists in this world who feel safe to express themselves either by the help of nurturing parents and partners, or the safety of their own brains allowing them to not give a damn. I'm so grateful to the writers who are encouraging us to 'live authentically,' 'vibrate on a higher frequency,' 'dare greatly,' and all of the other catch phrases that are sure to elicit an eye roll or two from those not yet willing to be freed and go there.  These artists of prose have absolutely aided me in my journey to be my best self; a self I know must include creative expression because that is at the heart of what makes me tick, and the thing that I derive the most contentment from in life.  

So today I may not have had a plan in place for what I wanted to write, but I had the desire. I followed that desire and I wrote what was on my heart. I'm totally going to pick up my guitar and play and sing some music after I hit send. It's not going to be perfect, but I know it will make me happy and will help fuel me to play more music. Baby steps.

Thank you, friends and family, for helping me to feel safer about expressing myself. I hope that this post inspires you to do the same. I promise to cheer you on if it does!

What are you scared to do? Leave me a comment!