It’s funny that I’m still afraid.
I used to think of everything I’d do if I left my job. I viewed work as a roadblock in my path to personal expression, the reason I could not do X, or Y, or Z.
Now, that roadblock is lifted, but another remains: fear.
I majored in journalism. I wrote and edited for a living. I was inordinately comfortable with self-expression.
That was a long time ago. Seven years.
Now I think of publishing exactly what I think and my breath pauses. My family will find this blog. My friends will read it. It’s a space for me to share my process of learning, of exploration, of dreaming.
Dreams sometimes die when they’re exposed to the day.
Truth sometimes flourishes.
I don’t know what will happen.
I’m not used to sharing anymore. I find myself afraid to post what I think, afraid it could come back to haunt me years later, afraid to share with the world instead of with a few colleagues in a private meeting. Afraid it will put me at a disadvantage.
I think this fear is false. Sharing knowledge is the only way to generate exponential benefits. If we all kept our experiences to ourselves, the world would still look flat to most of us. Debate, vicious or vibrant, is vital.
Fear is just fear. It is the nightmare of the introvert. It prevents me from living a full and authentic life.
I am terrified to post this. I’m going to let it sit in the queue, waiting, for the day when I feel ready.
(Edit: posted it on Day 26.)