In a few weeks time I’m about to play a sport I’m terrible at and at which I will probably consistently lose at for 6 weeks in a row. That sport is Beach Volleyball. I’m working up to it in the next few weeks. Playing for fun so that when the time comes, I won’t forget how enjoyable I find it under pressure. There’s no need for me to be good at this sport really, but I always push myself too hard. Too often I throw myself into things with full commitment when really only half commitment would do fine.
I feel like I’m doing the same with writing and storytelling this year. Working myself up to it.
I love writing. Storytelling. I always have. Every part of every day I spend on this earth is a story, and every stranger I watch has a story I make for them too. I’m a storyteller at heart and that will never change.
For me, some personal things hit me unusually hard last year, and for a while, I thought I’d lost my storytelling entirely. Maybe lost is the wrong word. I thought some part of me had placed storytelling in a box never to let it out again, along with my eternal optimism and belief in people. I’d let things turn me bitter. I’d become ashamed of my own little nuggets of hope I carried around with me: that one day I might become published.
I know now that I was just stunned into silence for a while. Things were put on pause not forgotten.
Thisill is the year I take my storytelling out of the box and really let myself have fun with that, pushing harder than ever before. To do that I know I need to work myself up to the big stuff. Finish a page. Then finish a chapter. Worry about finishing a novel later.
Just like my muscles need to relearn everything they thought they knew in volleyball I need to relearn writing again this year. It’s like riding a bike when I do it. The keys on my keyboard click so easily to the sound of my thoughts. But like with riding a bike sometimes I’ll fall. Like with a bike sometimes I’ll feel unsure.
I’m working myself up to dealing with that. And dealing with the insane pressure I put on myself year after year. Storytelling brings me joy. I hope to always remember and cherish it. It is a part of me and I’m releasing it from its box.