A deep sigh. Little shame filled cheeks glowing in front of a keyboard where little shame filled fingers flit before you now. I am back.
A week ago, I told myself I had let the writing habit die, and before it’d even really gotten it’s first deep breath. Queue the familiar cloak of shame, which is about as pleasant as a pair of damp underwear.
Two days ago, I told myself that perhaps it wasn’t too late. Perhaps there was still a pulse, however quiet.
And today, well here I am. Flicking the shame from my fingers key by key.
I’m used to this dress rehearsal by now: the shame cycle show. I have a feeling a lot of creatives are. And while I don’t think shame will ever fully go away for those of us who feel it as our first, most guttural reaction, I do think some things are good medicine.
Knowing a Creator is the behind-the-counter stuff.
Showing up regardless is the over-the-counter stuff.
Both we can decide to do at any time, each endeavor pursuable as soon as we’ve decided we’ve had enough of our own mess. And they are the only medicine for putting shame to bed.
So the next time shame comes courting with all it’s awful gut-rot, when the last thing you feel worthy of is showing up: go ahead and do it anyway. You’ll be amazed just how fast acting it is.