The space between the words

As a writer, I am always perplexed and shocked when I start typing. The fear that hangs before the first letter appearing in front of my eyes is unexplainable. It's like I'm afraid of looking at what I'm capable of creating. Afraid of what I might find. And underneath that afraid of what energetic reaction may be created from my voice. 

My voice is cleaner more truthful and more visible when written. My heart more open and more available when indented into the screen or a piece of paper. My words, my soul, my energy more visible in what I pour out of my finger tips. My vulnerability front and center spotlighted.

So I hang in the space between the words, holding my breath not ready to exhale the voice that crazily vibrates within the silence that I create. The yoga of writing is one that I am just learning to breathe. My breath so much a part of my power with words as it is with my power of my body. My timidity hangs in the feverish exhale that lasts much shorter than my deep inhale of inspiration. Yet the inspiration shifts inside of my loins and inside my heart and inside of my throat. Stuck like the stickiness of a sore and knotted muscle. Begging to be massaged and used so that it can wander and create what it's been so inspired to do.

That space. That space between the fingers craving for artisanship. That space between the delivery of me to the world around is sacred space. Space where I hide and feel safe, but there is only so long before that space feels crowded with unsung songs and unwritten stories, which then makes me feel like screaming because I just can't bare the fact that I have gone so long without saying anything. Without accessing my voice, my truth, my power, my gift. 

Why am I so frightened by the exhale? Why am I so frightened by what I have to say? Why am I frightened by me? 

I don't think I'm abnormal. I think there are many people who given gifts that are full of power actually find them a bit frightening because of how consuming they can be. 

Knowing how you're meant to use your gifts is a trial and error experience. At least it is for me. My passions and my inspirations ignite so many ideas in my hands and in my heart yet I feel at a loss for words or for that matter action. I find myself consumed with the responsibility of what it means to begin and to commit that I hold my breath in action because I'm worried about failure. 

It seems much easier to stay in my safe space, however, the more I stay here the more crowded it feels the more restless I am and the more unsatisfied I am with so-called safety. Plus it is only hurting me, therefore no longer a safe haven. 

So as I face the truth of my own voice my own power and I experiment with it on the mat; I've begun to realize that I don't need to be afraid of my voice. It's much scarier to know that I've been denying the world my full attention and spirit. 

Humility is something that is heard not hidden. And from humility their is an intense amount of power and truth. 

I end with this because we so often times consider humility to be one of the "unspokens" but I beg to disagree that humility is one of the greatest voices. And I leave that to resonate in space...