Halfway there...

So, I'm about halfway through my internship and well over halfway through my summer. I feel like all the things I wrote on my summer wish list are starting to seem more daunting to complete. One of my biggest hopes for the summer has been that I will create a routine for writing. I'd like to get to where I write every day for an hour or so. The tough thing is that at the moment I feel I need to devote my time to reading (part of which is research for my internship and part of which is philosophy that I'm reading for a class) before I do my own writing. I think there will always be that excuse, though. There will always be more books to read and more research to complete.

Sometimes I think that needing to read allows me to put off writing. I have spent a lot of this last year gaining confidence about my writing and think that I've really worked to hone my skills. Blogging has been one of the ways that I have experimented with tone, storytelling, and whatnot. Yet still I feel that part of me desperately fears writing.

It's strange that I'm feeling a bit vulnerable about my writing at the moment, but I think it is because I recently shared some of my work with a friend to get feedback. He was very encouraging and made some helpful comments, but somehow I felt laid bare by the process. Knowing that writing is something I really want to do means that I know I will regularly be sharing my "work" with others. I think my reticence about starting a regular writing routine is based in this fact. I think part of me is afraid that my work will not be well received or that perhaps I am not a very good writer.

Writing is the one thing I've been doing as long as I can remember. And, the more I write, the more I learn. I feel that each day I am finding my own voice and feeling more confident, but sometimes that comes in the form of feeling a little lost, a little concerned, and a little hesitant. I have to remind myself though that being fearless does not mean being without fear. The possibility of failure or rejection is real. To me, being fearless means facing my worst fears.

So, here we go. I am going to spend the next year crafting my writing skills, developing a portfolio, and looking for jobs that will allow me to write. The cat's out of the bag. I'm going to try my hand at writing. Come failure or success, I will know that I tried to do the thing I loved. And, in the end, I think I can come to terms with the costs.

I've spent a lot of my time on the train daydreaming about a quaint life. I keep seeing myself sitting at a window with my computer, writing while drinking a cup of coffee. My dear Ace curls up at my feet and I reach down to pet him. I lean back in my chair, sigh and feel content. A life of writing. I think I could get used to that.