Sometimes… writing in a notebook or word document feels too real. Like it has to be right. There’s no space to wander or explore the story. This is where the path is and one is helpless but to follow it. And it’s just a steep drop on either side, not some whimsical forest to frolic and explore.
And it doesn’t matter how confident you were when you start. Inevitably, somewhere on that lonely path you lose faith. You aren’t so sure. There’s still more path. But it’s so narrow. If you miss a step, you’ll fall and the story will never be finished. So you hunker down. You stay on this narrow stretch and wait for your nerves to settle. The path gets wider after this part, after all. You just need the confidence to take those steps.
I was going somewhere with this… I’ve been really in my own head lately. I’m lost on this narrow stretch and can’t see where the path widens anymore.
