as a new writer, i find my fear lies in my binding.
as i inch closer towards completing my first book, i get anxious as i think of permanently pressing my words onto a page, of stitching together my thoughts forever and glueing them onto the spine of a newly pressed book.
irrevocably stuck side by side, the imperfection of my assembled words taunt me. once they are printed, they’re unforgiving in their published permanence.
but the quest for perfection is a false journey. i know that if i venture down that path for too far and too long, i’ll find it has no end.
after all, how can a thought be imperfect? it simply is what it is!
a book is a memento of ideas captured from a particular piece in time. they are thoughts of a moment, cohesively arranged together as best as the author can.
the feelings i hope to convey must be fully flushed out while the moment is ripe, while the fruit of my expression is at its fullest flavour, and when the taste of my ideas are still fresh and on the tip of my tongue.
i must publish and abandon, before the spirit of my conjecture languishes in the turmoil of seeking perfection and flawless refinement.
i must write, publish, and learn to let go. i must create, publish, and then move on to the next.
there is no time to second guess!
as i continue to write and work on Sparks to Awaken, i can now see the face of my resistance more clearly, and i’m comforted in knowing that fears often fall away once you hold your head high, and look them directly in the eye.