Better to Stumble Forward Than to Stand Still

My first article took years to write.

It’s something I had thought about for a long time. I read books on writing. I watched YouTube videos made my writers. I researched the best things to write about, and the best places to write about them.

Where did all that planning and research get me? Nowhere.

At the end of it all, I still wasn’t actually writing anything, and therefore, not actually a writer. Maybe I could be called a researcher, or planner, or dreamer, but not a writer.

The day I became a writer didn’t come until I was fed up with the way my life was progressing. Looking around, I realized I wasn’t doing the things I really wanted to do. I also realized that nobody was going to come along and say, “Kevin, it’s time to start now.”

That was entirely up to me.

What was holding me back?

This was the question I had to ask myself.

There were several answers that came to me:

• I was afraid of failing. I didn’t feel prepared.
• I was afraid of looking foolish. There were much better writers out there, with more experience.
• I was afraid of putting myself out there, and exposing my deeper thoughts and feelings
• I was afraid that after all the thinking and planning and dreaming, that I would give up shortly after I got started.

I was letting fear rule my life.

The worst part is, that it’s not fear of some tangible thing. It was fear of something that I thought was merely a possibility. I was afraid of what might happen. It existed only in my head.

That’s a lousy way to live.

What if I never did anything that carried some risk of failure? Or, some risk of looking like an amateur? I am an amateur!

How else am I supposed to start? Who starts a project as an expert? Who is a master craftsman the first time they pick up a tool? Who picks up a guitar for the first time and rips out a perfect rendition of some Hendrix?

Stumbling forward

One day, I simply had enough.

I was tired of being afraid.

Or, rather, I was tired of letting that fear hold me back. I was reading to throw myself into the fray. People could criticize me all they want, but I was going to publish something.

It didn’t matter that I wasn’t a seasoned writer. It didn’t matter that I had no experience at all, besides essays and term papers.

Yes, I might stumble a bit. I might stumble a lot. At least I would be moving forward.

I could stay exactly where I was, to do nothing and having nothing to show for it. Or, I could stumble my way forward. I could fall, pick myself up, dust myself off, and take another step forward. Eventually, I would be able to look back and see how far I had come.

That’s exactly what I did.

That’s what I’m doing, every day. I stumble forward a little bit more. Some days I find decent footing. Other days, it’s like I’m climbing oil-slicked boulders.

I’ve kept at it, though, and even though the way ahead stretches on forever, I think I can see some places where the ground is level and the way might be a little smoother for a while.

In the meantime, I’m loving the journey- falls and all.