This is such powerful work, Alex. I absolutely resonate with this on every level. Its speaks to the juice of life. The fundamental experience we avoid while carefully preparing for the next part of the 'plan'. Thanks for putting this in a way that will help so many.
Thank you Alex. You truly do feed my the deep thought canyon in my mind with a route to different avenues of exploration. At my advanced age it isn’t as simple as one might think to sit back and “go with the flow”. I’m sure many people think age is just a number and for many in good health and mobility it is a terrific concept. I attempt to be content among my limitations daily. Quite honestly however, the breakdown of my body and certain levels within my mind are leading my way. Don’t misunderstand me, most days I just sit and blank out the thoughts about my condition and change my present with others’ words of wisdom or adventures through reading, or streaming. I do not have the capability nor strength to get myself from the house, assistance is always required now. I do not have a driver’s license, among other complications. Through your words I can see that station, picture the train and the people. As if I’m watching a movie I clearly see you and the people you encounter, or in some cases observe. I admit I cannot always grasp the entire essence of your encounters, but I do reflect upon them because that’s the most I can muster. So I’m grateful when I see your posts, re-read you and other Substack writers I admire, become transported leading to a calming from my anxiety. Living in my present aliveness is a whole new world and I would never had even thought of this concept had you not written it and shared it. Always your friend and devoted reader, ❤️🌼
Alex, more beautiful insights from you. Friend, I continue to feel in awe of your depth and thoughtfulness in everything you share, in the fact that you share yourself so honestly. Reading this today opened something in me, a realization about myself, and it's this: I have inhabited this body for 44 years, and my survival skill has been to "play it safe." But what my inner child, or what I call The Artist, has always wanted was to explore. Not to play it safe, but to play. To ask questions. To seek. That's me at the core. That's my truest self. And I've been resisting it for so long. Even now, after I took that leap five years ago to switch from the comfortable freelance career I'd built into this unknown and terrifying "bigger ocean" of the mainstream literary community, I still feel like I'm scared of so much.
But the thing I've learned about myself, too, is that despite the fact that I was born into fear and fear largely shaped my worldview (because mainly of my mom's psychopathology and therefore, influence), I have always decided to confront it. I learned from a young age that if I did not stand face to face with fear, then it would dominate my life and rob me of a truly fulfilling existence.
What I'm saying is this: almost everything I do, every day, is some type of confrontation of fear inside of me. It's pushing back against the long-held narratives that keep saying "what if this happens" or "you shouldn't do that" and instead, I am defying it by asking it back, "What if it doesn't happen?" or "Why shouldn't I?" It's not reckless or impulsive, it's intentional. It's my way of saying that I will not allow fear to be bigger than my curiosity. I will not allow it to have the final word.
When I am feeling most centered, I let fear have a seat at the table in my psyche, and I listen to it, respect it, but I don't allow it to dominate the conversation. I simply acknowledge its presence, thank it for keeping me safe throughout my life, and ask it to be quiet long enough to let the other parts of me talk--the parts that want (need) to take healthy risks in order to grow, to become.
That's what your essay opened up in me today. Thank you, always.
"A plan is static...Direction is dynamic...". Mic drop. This is the sparkly amethyst truth hidden inside the geode of my WIP climate-disaster-survival memoir. Thank you for these powerful thoughts. I needed this magic today.
I will never look at my restlessness again in the same way. Yes, looking back I can see that it lead me to places my heart was yearning for. Thank you for this Alex! How affirming! And in words that just clicked for me. You're a beautiful writer!
Thank you Alex. I really felt this one. I’m navigating a part time job that is necessary for financial survival, but has been so difficult for me physically and emotionally. I won’t get into too much in a short comment, but this essay really helped me see something I’ve not been seeing. Thank you 🙏🏼
This whole series, has awoken my writing desire that I didn't admit to myself that I was even feeling. And this paragraph sums it up! "Your aliveness is the match you've been holding, the soup you've been swimming in, the cry you've been apologizing for, the current you've been damming." Thank you for putting words to my heart! 💛
This is such powerful work, Alex. I absolutely resonate with this on every level. Its speaks to the juice of life. The fundamental experience we avoid while carefully preparing for the next part of the 'plan'. Thanks for putting this in a way that will help so many.
Thank you Alex. You truly do feed my the deep thought canyon in my mind with a route to different avenues of exploration. At my advanced age it isn’t as simple as one might think to sit back and “go with the flow”. I’m sure many people think age is just a number and for many in good health and mobility it is a terrific concept. I attempt to be content among my limitations daily. Quite honestly however, the breakdown of my body and certain levels within my mind are leading my way. Don’t misunderstand me, most days I just sit and blank out the thoughts about my condition and change my present with others’ words of wisdom or adventures through reading, or streaming. I do not have the capability nor strength to get myself from the house, assistance is always required now. I do not have a driver’s license, among other complications. Through your words I can see that station, picture the train and the people. As if I’m watching a movie I clearly see you and the people you encounter, or in some cases observe. I admit I cannot always grasp the entire essence of your encounters, but I do reflect upon them because that’s the most I can muster. So I’m grateful when I see your posts, re-read you and other Substack writers I admire, become transported leading to a calming from my anxiety. Living in my present aliveness is a whole new world and I would never had even thought of this concept had you not written it and shared it. Always your friend and devoted reader, ❤️🌼
Alex, more beautiful insights from you. Friend, I continue to feel in awe of your depth and thoughtfulness in everything you share, in the fact that you share yourself so honestly. Reading this today opened something in me, a realization about myself, and it's this: I have inhabited this body for 44 years, and my survival skill has been to "play it safe." But what my inner child, or what I call The Artist, has always wanted was to explore. Not to play it safe, but to play. To ask questions. To seek. That's me at the core. That's my truest self. And I've been resisting it for so long. Even now, after I took that leap five years ago to switch from the comfortable freelance career I'd built into this unknown and terrifying "bigger ocean" of the mainstream literary community, I still feel like I'm scared of so much.
But the thing I've learned about myself, too, is that despite the fact that I was born into fear and fear largely shaped my worldview (because mainly of my mom's psychopathology and therefore, influence), I have always decided to confront it. I learned from a young age that if I did not stand face to face with fear, then it would dominate my life and rob me of a truly fulfilling existence.
What I'm saying is this: almost everything I do, every day, is some type of confrontation of fear inside of me. It's pushing back against the long-held narratives that keep saying "what if this happens" or "you shouldn't do that" and instead, I am defying it by asking it back, "What if it doesn't happen?" or "Why shouldn't I?" It's not reckless or impulsive, it's intentional. It's my way of saying that I will not allow fear to be bigger than my curiosity. I will not allow it to have the final word.
When I am feeling most centered, I let fear have a seat at the table in my psyche, and I listen to it, respect it, but I don't allow it to dominate the conversation. I simply acknowledge its presence, thank it for keeping me safe throughout my life, and ask it to be quiet long enough to let the other parts of me talk--the parts that want (need) to take healthy risks in order to grow, to become.
That's what your essay opened up in me today. Thank you, always.
"A plan is static...Direction is dynamic...". Mic drop. This is the sparkly amethyst truth hidden inside the geode of my WIP climate-disaster-survival memoir. Thank you for these powerful thoughts. I needed this magic today.
I will never look at my restlessness again in the same way. Yes, looking back I can see that it lead me to places my heart was yearning for. Thank you for this Alex! How affirming! And in words that just clicked for me. You're a beautiful writer!
Thank you Alex. I really felt this one. I’m navigating a part time job that is necessary for financial survival, but has been so difficult for me physically and emotionally. I won’t get into too much in a short comment, but this essay really helped me see something I’ve not been seeing. Thank you 🙏🏼
This whole series, has awoken my writing desire that I didn't admit to myself that I was even feeling. And this paragraph sums it up! "Your aliveness is the match you've been holding, the soup you've been swimming in, the cry you've been apologizing for, the current you've been damming." Thank you for putting words to my heart! 💛