Life As Faith
"Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft to win, by fearing to attempt"
William Shakespeare.
The One thing we all can probably agree on, is that we all had dreams when we were children. Dreams that are childish in it's nature, innocent and unknowlegable, yet we all dreamed as big as we could. We all believed in our dreams and we all then grew older, slowly and unintentionally, losing the child in us, fading to the back ground. The innocent child in us then becomes the man and the woman we are today, the child even though never went away, is cabaple of everything, good and evil. You now understand that dreams are fantasies and fantasies are not real.
Some live a fairytale but the majority just live a tale, and mine have no voice, have no echo, smothered in cotton, and the reason is self doubt. I'm good at analysing and gathering information, add this to my anxiety and constant self doubt and it's a receipt for disaster.
"What if I'm not good enough", "What if I don't deserve to succeed", "What if I don't have it in me", too many what if's, it's crippling, its amazing how I find myself resisting making any real progress out of fear, the fear to even try.
Self doubt is my worst enemy. A sound of no logic that appears convencing, using my own life experience to pull my threads. Using my facts as to mirror my my own scenarios of the ways I can fail.
My self doubt, my monster, tells me that a woman of my background, a woman with a troubling history, can't go far. I can't dream big, I can't dream bigger than the world, my world is so troubling that I should be a shadow. A meer reflection of my society, my own past, I should be hiding. Because I am different, myself doubt makes me feel scared. That the real me will be exposed, if I were to try and reach for my dreams. My self doubt have a loud voice that have no logic but is very indeed convening. Playing my fear card, if I were to succeed, i will really exceed, I will aim so high and I will reach. But if I were to satisfy my ego and try, I will no longer walk with my face down pointed to my shoes, I will no longer try and hide in shadows, afraid of people seeing me, wanted to be accepted for who I am, yet so scared that I am not good enough.
So now, I'm writing this post to myself doubt. I want to try, I will not do what I normally do and hit the delete button. I will not save this post as a draft for later, I'm not afraid of being different no more. I'm not afraid of being me no more. So what if, I have had to fight for my Life, I am not going to give you the pleasure of feeding me shame.
I had the pleasure of surviving. When you survive a great ordeal, your senses are higher, you see life from a high clif. All the little details exposed but meaningless in their own, you get a view on life that no one else share with you. You get to appreciate every passing moment, seeing the beauty in life in it's ugliest forms. Yes, I’ve changed, but the little girl in me, the child, dreamt so big, bigger than my small town riddled by struggle in the middle east, bigger than my culture, bigger than me.
I definitely talk with an accent, but I can assure you I don't think in one.
Comes the final moment, I'm fighting back my own self doubt, my own monster, to just try.
I have dreamt to be a writer, the type that can make their own words come to Life. A writer that can give life to words and inject it with their soul. A writer that document life greatest struggles, Life greatest pleasures, life meanest feelings and the worst of humanity or humanity as its best. A writer that can be truthful, not to those who read, but to oneself.
I can hear my self doubt, laughing at me, at my broken English and self criticizing accent, a foreign writer with an accent!
A good writer have perfect command of the language, a brilliant writer have a perfect story.
I'm now just trying, and the scenarios of the ways I can fail is going through my head. But like a bird acquiring the skill of flying, I am ready to descend , because I know I will rise.
William Shakespeare.
The One thing we all can probably agree on, is that we all had dreams when we were children. Dreams that are childish in it's nature, innocent and unknowlegable, yet we all dreamed as big as we could. We all believed in our dreams and we all then grew older, slowly and unintentionally, losing the child in us, fading to the back ground. The innocent child in us then becomes the man and the woman we are today, the child even though never went away, is cabaple of everything, good and evil. You now understand that dreams are fantasies and fantasies are not real.
Some live a fairytale but the majority just live a tale, and mine have no voice, have no echo, smothered in cotton, and the reason is self doubt. I'm good at analysing and gathering information, add this to my anxiety and constant self doubt and it's a receipt for disaster.
"What if I'm not good enough", "What if I don't deserve to succeed", "What if I don't have it in me", too many what if's, it's crippling, its amazing how I find myself resisting making any real progress out of fear, the fear to even try.
Self doubt is my worst enemy. A sound of no logic that appears convencing, using my own life experience to pull my threads. Using my facts as to mirror my my own scenarios of the ways I can fail.
My self doubt, my monster, tells me that a woman of my background, a woman with a troubling history, can't go far. I can't dream big, I can't dream bigger than the world, my world is so troubling that I should be a shadow. A meer reflection of my society, my own past, I should be hiding. Because I am different, myself doubt makes me feel scared. That the real me will be exposed, if I were to try and reach for my dreams. My self doubt have a loud voice that have no logic but is very indeed convening. Playing my fear card, if I were to succeed, i will really exceed, I will aim so high and I will reach. But if I were to satisfy my ego and try, I will no longer walk with my face down pointed to my shoes, I will no longer try and hide in shadows, afraid of people seeing me, wanted to be accepted for who I am, yet so scared that I am not good enough.
So now, I'm writing this post to myself doubt. I want to try, I will not do what I normally do and hit the delete button. I will not save this post as a draft for later, I'm not afraid of being different no more. I'm not afraid of being me no more. So what if, I have had to fight for my Life, I am not going to give you the pleasure of feeding me shame.
I had the pleasure of surviving. When you survive a great ordeal, your senses are higher, you see life from a high clif. All the little details exposed but meaningless in their own, you get a view on life that no one else share with you. You get to appreciate every passing moment, seeing the beauty in life in it's ugliest forms. Yes, I’ve changed, but the little girl in me, the child, dreamt so big, bigger than my small town riddled by struggle in the middle east, bigger than my culture, bigger than me.
I definitely talk with an accent, but I can assure you I don't think in one.
Comes the final moment, I'm fighting back my own self doubt, my own monster, to just try.
I have dreamt to be a writer, the type that can make their own words come to Life. A writer that can give life to words and inject it with their soul. A writer that document life greatest struggles, Life greatest pleasures, life meanest feelings and the worst of humanity or humanity as its best. A writer that can be truthful, not to those who read, but to oneself.
I can hear my self doubt, laughing at me, at my broken English and self criticizing accent, a foreign writer with an accent!
A good writer have perfect command of the language, a brilliant writer have a perfect story.
I'm now just trying, and the scenarios of the ways I can fail is going through my head. But like a bird acquiring the skill of flying, I am ready to descend , because I know I will rise.
Iam now 67 years old and still have dreams,
ReplyDeleteI am trying to teach my kids to have dreams..but their day by day needs are overwhelming the view for the future and I cannot digest easily their limiting dreams...even my dreams are not driving me how to teach freedom of thought and dreams