I had the Editor-in-Chief job for two years in a row.
But that swagger, I don't know where it went. I'd like to find it again.
I feel so much uncertainty and personal fear in my writing space. Uncertainty is poison to writing--it is what leads to writer's block and word paralysis. Fear is like an out of control wild fire, just burning every authentic word in its path. I know, in my head, the only way to overcome all of this is to simply write. But, I've done that and still here, I am, uncertain that I am actually a writer.
That's ridiculous, isn't it? But I think everyone can relate. It is like when a parent is having a bad parenting day and wonders if they are any good at a parenting (note: worrying about parenting automatically makes you good at it.). Or when my kids worry about their sports--Chloe once told me she wasn't really a field hockey play. This was moments after finishing a game!
When I take an inventory of the things I love in my work the list is long. I love interviewing oncology researchers and talking to childhood cancer families. I love talking about science and breakthroughs. I like coaching and supporting younger writers who are stress paralyzed by science and show them how they have nothing to fear--it's all just words! I love strategizing email content and flows. I love working with influencers and strategic partners. I love solving problems. I love working for a local business in my community. I love working for myself and juggling it all. I love making a difference and an impact at a charity, a corporation and a locally owned store. The variety keeps me focused and it gives me unique perspectives that I share with whomever I am working for; at least I think it does.
And of course, I love to write, here.
I'll now written in this blog 663 days straight. The only thing I've done longer than that is breathe. I am not sure what my purpose is when I write here. I know I don't have to have a purpose. I started doing this thinking that somehow I'd write myself into a destiny. Maybe that's happening and I don't see it. Maybe this is just an exercise and nothing more will arise from this daily writing except practice using my words.
I am a writer. I know this. And I once wrote that my first goal was to finish the yearbook and I did. My second goal was to make it something enjoyable. Maybe those are the goals I need to find again, too, along with my swagger.