Bountiful Words, Beautiful World

It’s always difficult to get the day started. I don’t want to face all the things that need to be done just to get out of bed. Pull off the warm covers, feet to the floor, stumble to the bathroom and throw on the light (squint, squint). I’m not what you would call a morning person. Once I’m up and resigned to the day, however, I think I deal with it rather well. Especially if there is any coffee involved. Waffles don’t hurt either. Or Bacon.

Writing is much the same for me. Getting started is painful. The ideas are snuggly and safe in my head and the idea of sitting down to get them out on paper (or blog) is like someone ripping the blankets off the bed before the alarm has gone off. I always feel a little too exposed and not altogether sure I’m ready for what comes next.

Of course, there is no point in keeping the ideas shut up in my head forever, just as there is no good to be had to staying in bed all day. I could certainly do both, but after a while I’d be covered in bed sores, run out of movies to watch, have greasy hair and all the ideas that I’ve been hoarding all these years would go to waste. I don’t know which scenario is worse. Okay, the stinky, bed sore, greasy hair one is worse, but the hoarded idea one is pretty bad too.

When it comes to finally sharing my words, my thoughts, my ideas, I believe what really holds me back is the fear of just that, sharing. Sometimes I wonder if I have anything worth saying. But I have decided I don’t really care if anyone listens anymore. Well, I care a little, maybe a lot, but I’m not going to let it worry me anymore. In the past I’ve let what other people say about my writing, my thoughts and my ideas, dictate how much I share and it’s left me with a lot to say and nowhere to say it. So I started blogging. Then the same people started making the same comments about my blogs. I gave up.

Now I’m a mom. I have watched my tot for the past three years and she has taught me so much. The biggest thing I’ve learned in these three years is that we are who we are, whether anyone is watching or not. She is my Wee One whether I’m in the room with her or out in the kitchen doing dishes. She doesn’t change for anyone. She is her same sweet, stubborn, funny, crazy, amazing self no matter who is watching. I don’t want her to ever lose that. So I need to get that back. I need to show her that her Mama is not afraid to be herself no matter who is watching, listening, or reading. She needs to see that it’s “Okay to Be Me.” So I’m back. To Writing. Whatever I feel like writing about. Sometimes it will be random. Sometimes it will be good and sometimes it will be utterly not so good. But it will always be me in the words.

Now I better get out of bed.