Fear can be a great motivator. It can also be a vicious
inhibitor. For me, it is a strong combination of both. Mercifully, however, my
better judgment usually sets in during the 11th hour, sparing me
harm from anything greater than momentary paralysis.
My chest rose with pride as I realized that fear did not
hinder me today.
I am sitting in a cold, blue leather seat in row 21 on Delta
Flight 1606, thousands of feet in the air above Cleveland, Ohio. In two hours
or less I will touch down in a different part of the country. A region that to
me has always held great intrigue, excitement and life.
The last time I was in New York was 2006. I was going to be
an actress then. Each night, the lights of Broadway illuminated my eyes and
filled my heart with sweet ambition. Perhaps one of the most thrilling moments
of my life was when the lights went down in the Gershwin Theatre, cuing the
first shrill notes of Wicked’s overture, sending goose bumps all over my skin
as I sat in my plush, purple mezzanine seat.
I left determined to live that same dream. Every night at 8
p.m., I wanted to be dazzling.
Not too long after my life-changing excursion to the Great
White Way, I realized that something other than my sub-standard talent as a
“triple-non-threat” was necessary. Logic and sweet reason sunk in and I
gradually abandoned my dream of show-stopping numbers and bright, hot lights.
Instead, I went to school. I began this blog. And after the
silliness left the moronic posts riddled with insecurities and tales
reminiscent of hopeless romantics, I began to find my voice. A voice that is
nearly impossible to express audibly, but is often effortless to type.
And so despite my feelings of rejected and menial talent, I
became a writer. I became something that I thank God for becoming. I became an expression
of thoughts, even one as nonsensical and trivial as mine.
The thoughts of a thousand moments, a thousand laughs and a
thousand tears have consolidated into one medium: this blog. It is here that I
become the most pure and vulnerable version of myself. It is here that I face
reality and prepare for a thousand tomorrows.
The words perpetuate my very being, dismissing my fears.
Ironically enough, the words have brought me to my seat in
row 21 on Delta Flight 1606. The words will take me to people I have yet to meet
and places I have yet to love. I am the words. The words are me. Together, we
travel into the vortex of would-be fear that is the future.
3 comments:
Wonderful !!
Emmilie, it was great to read!Love Nana
I love reading your blog. I feel like the heart has so much to say that lips are incapable of speaking, yet you have managed to express it through your writing. I don't know what I'll do. If "Jesus listening can hear the songs I cannot sing" I hope that he can also read the poetry I cannot write, see the paintings I can't paint, etc.
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