I've been finding it really hard to write these days. I don't know if it's because my mind is blank and I have nothing to say. Or perhaps because it's too full that I don't know where to start. But once I start thinking about it, I realize that it's probably so difficult to get the words out because I'm scared. Terrified of what I will find when I finally face my thoughts and feelings. It's like the monster in the closet of my mind. And I'm working so hard to keep the doors closed so that nothing can come out.
And then it occurred to me:
Do you know why monsters are always under the bed? Why they remain in your closet?
Because if they would be out in the open, they wouldn't be so scary. If we saw exactly what we were dealing with, we would be able to, or better yet, be forced, to face our fears.
Instead, they forever linger, just beyond our reach. Always lurking in the shadows, threatening to turn our every dream into a nightmare.
Do you know why monsters are always under the bed? Why they remain in your closet? Because we are cowards. We'd prefer to live a life of fear so that we don't have to come face to face with the great terror that may (or may not) lie past the door. What if we are catastrophizing these fears? What if our minds have created a dramatic illusion of what lies beyond? What if, by keeping the door closed, we succeed in keeping out the potential demon, but we are also holding out the beauty that may lie beyond?
What if I am holding back, and not letting my thoughts and feelings come to paper because the thought of facing the unknown is too frightening? And then I am forced to think, what is more terrifying - the idea of what I could be facing or actually confronting my emotions head-on?
And I realize. Perhaps it's time to take a quick peek under the bed.
Until next time.