My inner world is a funny place. I don’t let a lot of people in.
It’s not that I’m great at maintaining boundaries or filters. It’s the opposite. If I get too jazzed about a topic and start talking or writing about it, a tidal wave of ideas and emotions can pour out.
What’s appropriate to share, what’s too much information, what just sounds crazy? I don’t know. It’s easier to stay quiet than it is to sort that out.
Have you ever ridden on a crowded bus and shrunk down into yourself as the bodies pressed in, trying to take up as little space as possible? That’s what happens to my inner world when I’m being quiet. I squish ideas and sparks of insight and moments of delight, down and down, trying not to bump into anyone. Desperate not to take up space.
I’m ready to take up some space now, but I’m not quite sure how to start.
I think I’ll start writing again and see where it goes.
(Fully aware that this could be like the first few pages of so many hopeful journals, now gathering dust in my closet.)