Yesterday evening I was in front of my laptop, wondering. Well, I have those project. You know, a couple of ones are almost finished, the third is still on start, but it’s more ambitious (a new novel). Anyway, a lot of days has already passed and I was not able to convince myself to spend times fully devoted to those project. It seems, there is always something to do instead of writing. 

Because of the great fear. The fear that my writing is a loss of time.

The fear is so high, sometimes, that I prefer to actually loss time, checking my Facebook timeline or indulging in other not-so-productive activities, instead of writing.

Because of this. Because I do not want to face my fear.

Actually, it turns out that facing my fears could be the right thing to do.

Yes. Facing my fears. Which means, in this case, writing. Writing anyway, even if I think I’m not good enough, even if I fear that it can be a loss of time, even if I am sure that other people could make it better. Far better than me. They are only paralyzing statements that want to keep me from my best work.

So yesterday evening I forced myself to reopen one project, the project of a poetry book. And I discovered again, that wonderful thing. Namely, that going through my stuff, even if it’s imperfect, even if it’s naive in certain part – it makes me feel better. Again, I’m connected with the universe, I feel I’m doing what I’m here for.

Yes, strange to think, but it’s so. Even if I can severely judge my writing, nevertheless I haven’t the freedom to decide. I have to write. I have to overcome my fear and write (or better, I have to embrace my fears and write).

Let me write down it, since I constantly try to escape from this simple fact. I can feel fine only if I accept to write. If I do not accept it (with the excuses I listed above, plus others – I have plenty), nothing can fill the hole in my heart.

I can only think of a reason for this: I am not alive by chance, but for a reason (everybody is here for a reason, everybody has a task to do in order to make the universe more bright). One of the reasons I’m here is writing.

So I’m supposed to quit my (excellent) job and write all time?

No, I do not think so.

I think my duty is to write inside the circumstances that I experience around me. Circumstances are not casual, they are the way I have to grow. That’s what I learn from School of Community and it fully resonates in me (when I’m honest with myself).

So, if I’m called to be a scientist and a writer, a husband and a father, that’s what I have to do. Every tentative deviation from this path (compulsive food, drink, sex… should I mention all of them?) is a loss of time. While writing is never a loss of time, never.