Right now I feel like the kid who has been aching to ride her bike without training wheels.  She knows she can do it.  She sees the other kids doing it and wants to join in ever so much.  But . . .

After months of practice compounded by weeks of enduring the extra two small yet powerful wheels that protect her from falling, but also keep her isolated from the adventure and those who dare to venture, she decides that the jutted-out-to-the-side-hindrances have to go.  Free from the fear enablers, she gets on, firmly plants feet to pedals and slowly takes off, every now and then slamming feet on concrete to prevent an ugly, horrible crash.  And she does this stopping and starting until she gains enough momentum not to care anymore.  The thrill of the wind on her face and the sheer accomplishment of succeeding in trying is enough to make her wind those pedals in circular motion over and over again.

Writing can be an experience much like that for me.  I often allow all of the fear concerning my writing gift to halt me rather than allowing my passion for writing to propel me.  But no more.  Here I am world!!  Writing!!  My blog!!  Whew!! (shouts into a megaphone —>) The girl is on the bike!  No training wheels of caution because so far, for me at least, caution has quickly gone from sensibility and thoughtfulness to excuses and failure to even try.  I’m just so happy to be doing something I love with no fear of success or failure (well, maybe there is still just a little bit of fear . . . :0).  Fear has played the role of friend but showed up more like a foe time and time again.  Uhhhhhhh, I think I wanna try something else for a while.  Turns out I still have some courage left.  (who knew??!!?)

The girl is on the bike.  And she has her hands up, head thrown back and she is grinning wildly as she rides down the hill of an open road. . .

photo found on google.com