I have been toying with ideas for this week’s blog post, specifically the feelings that create uncertainty in me. But isn’t that the case with so much of my every day? Deciding how vulnerable to allow myself to become in a given situation underlies everything. And that is normal, much of it pretty instinctive. But is it wise? Can I grow, if at every opportunity to experience growth, I pull down all shields and dig in to strengthen my defences? Defending against life is an exhausting way to live (she says exhaustedly).

Fearlessness is not the same as invulnerability, although they share some surface qualities. One has me walking, breasts thrust forward into the world, regardless of experience. The other has me head above heart, heart above pelvis, open to the experience. One feels so much safer than the other. Can you guess which one is which?

Though on the surface vulnerability appears fragile, the strength required to dive into its depth has only come to me after dealing with the fallout of many fearless encounters. I am learning how to plunge into the invulnerable parts of me; the strongest places.

This week I have been wise enough to be vulnerable. I want to understand where my natural flair for writing shines, and where I need to buff the hell out of it. I have submitted a section of my first novel for live critique by two experienced editors.

My work will appear on the Writership podcast in two weeks time. I’ve linked my previous sentence to the episode on Stitcher, to make it knee-shakingly easy for you to click over and look for it from July 6, 2016.

See you next week, I have to go now and amend my shopping list to include some polishing compound.


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