I’ve been self-censoring, tempering myself, modulating my tone in an effort to be more logical and linear, removing myself too much from what is calling to be shared, distancing in an attempt to be objective and neutral and share just the essentials.
It’s based on a lifetime of being told that people can’t hear me or won’t pay attention if I “get emotional.” It’s based on the unconscious belief that if I want to be taken seriously as a writer I must follow certain conventions. Headings. Clear linear thought patterns.
And it’s also based in a belief that if I reveal too much of yourself that people will take advantage of my vulnerability.
This is a deeply embedded belief in my nervous system, and it creates a paralyzing fear that sharing will lead to rejection, that I’ll be misunderstood, that people won’t see my value and that they won’t want to work with me.
As a result, I temper my natural sense of individuality, rebellion, and creativity.
It creates this strange dichotomy of remaining in hiding while still publishing a daily blog.
The irony of this is that it’s harder to write this way. Every part of the process takes longer, from deciding what to write to the actual writing. It requires more energy, too. Hiding yourself is hard work.
And the value of what I have to offer is diminished when I take this approach. My message becomes muddled, my creativity loses its spark. There’s no flow. It all comes from the head.
Candor and clarity require a great deal of courage. The word courage is rooted in a word meaning “from the heart.”
So my practice is to stop self-censoring. Ironically, this requires me to stop caring what other people think or even whether what I share will be of service.
The truth is that I can’t control what people think or whether what I offer has value to someone else. Meaning is in the control of the person seeking it.
My part is simply to share what I’m being called to share. What it means, what it says, whether it serves… none of those are things I can control. So it’s time to let them go.