Blank slate

There is something about a new journal. Perhaps it's the allure of all those blank pages; the power of so much wide open possibility; the intrigue of all those juicy secrets just waiting to be told.

When my family would go for our annual summer vacation, each of us kids would get a small stipend from the parents; some pocket money to buy souvenirs or treats, whatever struck our fancy. I remember strolling through gift shops and five-and-dimes, candy stores and truck stops. And yet, above all the sugary treats and toys, t-shirts and stuffed animals, I would inevitably come away with a brand new pen and notebook. 

Much as it does now, my mind would recite all the words and thoughts and feelings I would capture on those blank pages. All the stories and thoughts and dreams elegantly  scrolled alongside artsy sketches and doodles.

And yet the pages remain blank. Daring me to fill them. Taunting me. 

All my perceived inadequacies once again confirmed when the nightstand drawer opens and the notebook gets tossed inside. Left to be forgotten, neglected. 

As part of Susannah's Blogging from the Heart course, the elusive creative journal has taken center stage. It's time to set aside my fear and insecurity; power through my ridiculous anxiety and anticipation of my own imminent failure.  

This time I'm challenged to set pen on paper, throwing caution to the wind. Time to get past my unrealistic expectations of perfect prose and eloquent epiphanies. After all, who's going to see it but me? 

But then again, I am my own worst critic...