"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud, was greater than the risk it took to blossom" ~ Anais Nin
When I was first finding my creative voice as a writer, I gravitated toward others who I perceived as more talented than myself. They had a gift for writing in descriptives that I would never use.
While my writing seemed pedestrian, simple and self-absorbed, theirs seemed worldly, intellectual, and important.
They were the real writers, I thought.
I became what I called a "shadow" artist, hovering on the sidelines admiring the talent that was all around me, wishing I could only be as talented.
If I were as talented as her/him, I would be DOING something with it. I would finish that manuscript, I would find a publisher, I would . . . .
If only I were.
I could see so clearly what I would do with THEIR kind of talent. 
While mine eluded me.
So when I read this passage this week, I knew what he was talking about.
"The universe is forever sending out a casting call to us to accept our starring role in an A-list movie: stepping out of the movie reel version of our life and accepting the real role of who and what we are - our Authentic Self."
It's a scary proposition, sometimes, to take the leading role as Ourselves. It's much safer to be the supporting cast, or play someone else.
Let me master someone else's script. They appear to have a better role.
But that's not what we came here to do. We came to star in our own show.
How much can we screw up a performance when we are being asked to play ourselves?
And yet, it is not about how well we do, is it?
It's about how much we have to reveal. It's about what we have to risk.
If I put my writing out there, I get to risk that you, too, will find it pedestrian, simple and self-absorbed.
And in fact, that can happen. I had a reader recently unsubscribe and in the comments section wrote to me: "Not very good writing."
What it boils down to is courage.
The call is to be courageous. To not call our talents "good" or "bad", but to simply claim all of ourselves and to show up for our own performance.
Not for the applause we may or may not receive. That is not the objective. There is no applause.
But to master the starring role we came forth intending to play. To fully take up residence in it and let it become us.
In other words, to do ourselves justice.
And to revel.
Want to SHARE this memo? Share link is at the top of this email.
