Permission to move...
Last night I bumped into one of the two people who simultaneously recommended that I "go start a blog" about five years ago. As dismissive as it sounds, it wasn't. Just wanted to thank him again for an off the cuff remark that stuck and grew. Somehow I needed the permission to do this thing (still embarrassing, slapdash, and therapeutic in ways I don't fully understand). Above all, it exists.
Typically, all of life's possibilities get wound into a spinning ball of spaghetti in my melon. It's a hypnotic blur that inspires a kind of drool-faced arrest. The art of non-actualization is practiced.
However, when someone I respect articulates a single strand from that pasta of potentialities, the hypnosis snaps away, clarity and energy arrive, and a way forward usually storms the agenda. Then, (maybe) lookout! From here it's just a matter of choice... "Will I" or "Won't I" are meaningless questions until there's a clear challenge.
("Deep End" by Mark Mann)