This month I started my 14th program of Method Writing with Jules Swales, www.julesswales.com. I practice writing four to five days a week during class. When I commit to something, I am wholehearted. I have become a better writer with Jules. I also learn a great deal about myself. In my last class, I realized I am scared to put myself out there. I know it seems strange since I write a blog every month, but I have been too afraid to have what is near and dear to my heart be seen.
So, I am taking a scary step by sharing a piece of writing that is vulnerable to me. It is below.
When I work with my clients, I help them discover what they are afraid of, embrace it, and then do the thing- just like I am doing now.
If you want to change your life, I would love to help you.
The Date
My legs are crossed, and my hands are interlaced. I hold myself tight. I feel my tension. I am used to tension in my body. I am scared. I close myself. I don’t want to be stung.
My surgery date is September 20, my daughter said.
I sat on a bench on the dock of the Lafayette Reservoir. The sun hid behind the clouds, and the wind whipped the water into motion. A lone hawk sounded its cry. White Pelicans flew in perfect order and dove one after the other like synchronized swimmers to seize their fish. My down vest couldn’t help me with my coldness. I watched a ho-ho wrapper drift by me in the water as I smelled the decaying fish on the bank.
Ok, I said.
I have been a witness to my daughter's upcoming jaw surgery for the past ten years. We have had orthodontist appointments and appointments with specialists in Santa Barbara. We met with Kaiser's doctor and began the process, only to find out she couldn’t do the surgery and had to start over. We have met with nurses to learn how to eat when her jaw is wired shut and what to do when she throws up.
I have watched this young girl be so brave and scared. She makes her appointments. She drives herself to get her X-rays and braces tightened. When she is done, she calls me. All of her fear and pain is dumped on me like a giant bucket of water. When she speaks, I numb myself. I won’t let myself feel it. I am afraid I will be taken down and macerated like a strawberry in a garbage disposal.