Hesitation

The threat of permanence stopped me cold. I considered abandoning this platform entirely. I thought about ways that I could post links to an outside destination that does offer the ability to delete and/or modify past a small window.

I've picked apart every reason I can think of making this so scary to me. Am I afraid people I have known in the past will somehow find my little hole in a very crowded, noisy hole farm? That someone I have yet to meet will dig up what might be or seem like dirt?

I think those are easy fears to pick up on. I can argue with myself about the validity or productivity of worrying about what known or unknown others may think. Those arguments can run in my head for hours without any real resolution.

Another more difficult notion to wrap my head around is dealing with my own reflection on myself. The idea that maybe in six months, or a year, or a few years, looking back on whatever I put up now as permanent might be uncomfortable.

Uncomfortable is a generously conservative word. It's hard for me now to look back at myself through the years. I'm happy with the progress I've made in difficult conditions. I'm pleased with the values that I have developed as a result of this journey.

But I find it hard still to forgive myself, not just for what I could interpret as self-inflicted struggle or self-sabotage, but also those periods of flighty idealism. I find myself wanting to tear down those versions of me that were passionate, excited, maybe even foolish in my belief of what was possible.

Too quickly, I leap to the assertion that was influence of mania, or some other flaw or shortcoming. Maybe because those heady pursuits have led to different disappointments.

My internal fault-finding machine can go into overdrive there. My fault for having unrealistic expectations. My fault for the choices I made along the way. My fault for feeling like I still wasn't getting what I needed from situations I so doggedly pursued. And so on.

And now it is harder. I don't know if it's wisdom or cynicism that puts up barriers to that same fiery fixation on a sparkly objective to focus on and work towards. There is no clear vision I can see in my mind before sleeping. Just some vague, amorphous wonder drifting through a forest of shadowy what-ifs.

Even though I can't completely buy into it in this moment, I feel like the best answer here, in short, is to be scared and do it anyway. And keep doing it until it isn't scary.

I think that's the way to build a sustained courage. I might be able to borrow bursts of boldness through inspiration of others' actions, but that will always be fleeting and challenging to maintain. If I can find courage in facing the fears, maybe I'll be ready to work on forgiveness when the time for reflection comes.