"What would you like to do if money were no object?" I would write.

According to my most favouritest blog these days, Brain Pickings, yesterday (Jan. 6) would have been Allan Watts' 99th birthday. I didn't previously know who Allan Watts was, though I certainly did see this video at some point in the last couple of years, whenever it went viral enough for me to click on it:

 

The video had a profound impact on me the first time I saw it, yet I was unwilling to admit the answer. What would you do if money were no object? I would write, by the sea. There would be a sacred space for movement and meditation, for conscious breathing. I would live near the ocean and would head out surfing whenever possible. A space for reflection, creativity and even healing. A retreat where others could come and find inspiration as well. Not just to write but to create.

You see, I have always written. My first story was written in French and published in a children's magazine called "Clin D'oeil." I think I was in grade 3 when I wrote about a young girl who ran away and was adopted by a wolf pack for the weekend. Indubitably, the Disney version of Kipling's The Jungle Book probably had something to do with my theme. The magazine gave me some kind of prize for writing that story and, if I recall, they wrote to me and asked me to write more stories. Even at that young age, I was already somehow stifled. I never did send them anything else.

I recently found many of the journals I have kept over the years. So many of my entries begin with phrases like, "I need to write." And then I proceed to write about how I should really be writing more. Countless ideas for stories, collections and poetry fill these journals. Unedited, half-finished poems litter the pages. Loose pieces of paper pregnant with possibility are tucked amidst them with the instruction: "Finish this!" 

But I haven't. You see, I know that I am a writer, but I am afraid that I am not necessarily a "good" writer. Perhaps I am finally nearing a period in my life where my daring, my courage will allow me to move past the fear of failure, of rejection to a place of abundant creativity. Letting go not only of the judgement that I anticipate from others, but letting go of my own self-judgement. It's time for me to be "daring enough to finish." 

"Daring Enough to Finish" (Rumi)--you didn't really think reveal my own poetry for judgement yet ;)

Face that lights my face, you spin

intelligence into these particles

I am. Your wind shivers my tree.

My mouth tastes sweet with your name

in it. You make my dance daring enough

to finish. No more timidity! Let

fruit fall and wind turn my roots up 

in the air, done with patient waiting.