As I sit down to my desk to work, I review my list of things to do. This list was created yesterday by my past self that was very hopeful that my future self would be inspired, strong, outgoing, and … not me. This list includes things like creating social media content, creative writing, and channeling. I feel the tears welling up in my eyes and the fear starting to invade my heart, my throat, and my brain. The fear weaves in slowly, like dark, smokey tendrils, wrapping around any hope that today may be different.
The tendrils provide energy to the little gremlins who gleefully know all the right … and the wrong things to say. These gremlins, these miniscule monsters, inside my thoughts dance with the smoke, swinging from one tendril to the next.
One whispers, “Who do you think you are?”
Another snarls, “What? You think you have something interesting or new to say?”
The first states, “We have no idea how you, of all people, got into this writing group.”
A different gremlin pipes up, “You think you can help someone else? You can’t even help yourself.”
Some of the gremlins giggle, others are on the ground, holding their bellies, tears running down their faces, dying with laughter. I feel my skin crawl, my stomach turns, and a tear drips down my cheek. I ask myself, “Who am I?” I remember someone I greatly admire, saying: when they wonder “Who am I to do something?“, they then ask, “If not me, who? If not now, when?” From deep inside the smoke I hear, “Someone else! Oh, and Never!”. The laughter of these vile little beasts penetrates every cell of my body.
From different corners and different parts of me, I hear,
“Fuck them, you can do it!”
“Ummm… you know they are right…”
“It would be safer to go back to the corporate world.”
“Maybe we should just wrap up for the day, go get a drink, and watch TV.”
“Yup, they are right, you are a fraud and coward.”
I desperately pray for the part of me that said, “Fuck them.”, to come forward and show me the way. Help me see, help me prove to myself and the world what I have to offer. I stumble through the smoke and the dark. Hands out in front of me reaching, searching, and grasping for something. My fingers slide over a slimy, rippling, lumpy mass, and hear the snickering of one of the gremlins. I quickly retract my hands, stand still and hug myself.
Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I hear a faint voice saying, “Oh child, I have so much to share. Visit me again, we will start to vanquish these little demons and you will continue to step into your authentic self.”