Just Do It

Inner Critic

Writers have been familiar with the phrase “Just Do It” long before it was branded by NIKE. Just Do It; one letter at a time, one word at a time; Just Do It; face that blank little sheet of paper that holds every fear, every criticism, every failure I’ve perceived since childhood magnified by a loud speaker and playing on an infinite loop. All writer’s must start the same way. They Just Do It. If that isn’t hard enough, once they’ve formed that first letter, most writers must face their inner critic. It’s relentless and finds fault with every word, every thought, every moment wasted on such a futile effort. Good writers learn to ignore or silence that critic which gives me hope.

   But wait. I’m all start and no finish or so says my constant companion, the ugly little troll that is my inner critic. When my pen touches the paper, my personal history starts to break through like rough roots rising against the ground. The monster of self-doubt threatens to swallow me whole if I continue. For the better part of sixty years I’ve run to safety in a place built on lies of omission where I’ve reinvented a self that has no demons. So after sixty years of avoidance, with my doubt stuffed in my back pocket for now, I’m going to trust my talent and Just Do It.

   It’s time to gather all the pieces of myself I’ve carelessly scattered in the lives from my past. It’s time to face my fears and reclaim what makes me whole. After all, how alive am I if I cannot answer “Here” when life calls out my name, if I cannot stand before my world clothed in the cloth I was cut from?