There’s a new kid on the block. He goes by the name of C.W. Writing [C.W.? Ahh, glad you asked. That’s Cringe Worthy] He’s your basically wimpy little squirt, always blaming someone else for his shortcomings. Cringe moans and groans and spends half his life looking back over his shoulder, filled with regrets and remorse for his lack of skills, knowledge, finesse, whatever… peering way back in his personal evolution from a scribbler to a storyteller as if with a high-powered telescope.
Does he not recognise the insult he inflicts on his tender, vulnerable self of yesterday with his judgmental and negative thinking? How much his inner child suffers from his harsh rejection of his beginnings?
And you have to wonder – does he scrutinise his first words [maybe Ma-ma or Da-da], his first teetering stand-up, his first stumbling steps, with the same unforgiving attitude? And those earliest stick figure family portraits. They continued on for some time. What about them? And that eternal Sun shining in the top corner of every priceless piece of art, even when it rained? And has he forgotten the first Mother’s Day card he made with ultimate concentration [and tongue sticking out the side of his mouth]? The one painstakingly drawn on a page torn out of his brand new writing book? Maybe he doesn’t remember it, but his Mum surely did. That was the first of a long line his Mum hung with pride on her fridge door. Stayed there for the whole rest of the year… guessing he doesn’t remember that, either.
Failure? How can he believe his earlier, stumbling, ungrammatical, typo and spelling error-filled attempts were failures? How can he underestimate the massive learning curve he embarked upon all those words ago when first he picked up a pencil? How else should he have learned his skills of today? Did he never heed the famous words of Robert F. Kennedy – “Only those who dare to fail greatly can ever achieve greatly.”
Maybe all those loving family, friends who heaped so much longed-for praise upon his passionate efforts were white-lying because of their love and/or admiration, or simply a dear wish to encourage and a desire not to squash a budding talent. If this helped Cringe to reach the level of expertise he enjoys today, does yesterday’s questionable acclaim matter?
Does Cringe ever take a moment to recognise and take pride in the monumental progress he’s made? It surely doesn’t sound that way when you hear him express gratitude his earliest ‘stuff’ is lost somewhere, way back; or the wish to burn early efforts or flush them away. How daunting to find some words are out there somewhere, in print maybe, or part of a recorded interview gathering dust on some back shelf. He believes none of these count? Really?
Ohh dear, Cringe, my friend. Those first faltering steps along your wordy journey launched all that you are today. They deserve celebration, not condemnation. The dream of admiration and notoriety [even a dash of filthy richness?] was the catalyst to bring you to today’s hopeful recognition that in the final analysis, you write for you and only you. And then wrote it all down for others to see and weep over… or not?
Do yourself a favour, Cringe. Next time you embark upon a writing reminiscence, make sure the main part of that vision of yesteryear features the irresistible buzz that walked hand-in-hand with your enthusiasm. And the passion that lit a fire in your belly to create whatever poured out of your heart and head; the belief an untapped genius had arrived… to be unleashed upon a gasping, wondrous world.
Be honest, Cringe. Felt good, huh? In those halcyon days, there were no recriminations… only blood, sweat and tears as you strived to learn more; to be more enough for your own self. And that’s no shabby ambition. Ever.
OMP Admin Note: Christine Larsen is a writer, farmer, wife, mother, and grandmother from Australia. She has never been homeless or had significant cancer – yet – but has had exposure to both – creating a great sense of empathy and desire to help in any way she can. She is humbled by the opportunity to give one of her stories to the sincerely worthwhile causes of Cancer research and Homelessness.
To find out more about Christine and her work:
Christine Larsen, Author
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