Woke up this morning feeling like writing something. Actually, I have been flirting the idea of writing persistently a lot lately.
I’m keeping my personal journal but that is more of a therapy than an actual journal, jotting down repressed feelings and desires which I am not ready to share with the world yet.
I want to be brave. All the cliche fantasy tales about the mighty heroes have put a seed in my romantic mind, yes. Although I would love to face a dragon or some sinister villain someday, I would rather be pratically brave.
The bravery that matters.
Don’t get caught up with that romantic ideal and lose touch of reality. I believe that performing a larger-than-life deed is not always the equivalance of bravery. It might be the thrist for glory guiding you. Or ironically, it might be the fear of people judging your abilities that has made you eager to prove them wrong. These exterior motivations would leave you nothing but the underwhelming sensations.
I believe the most courageous thing to do is to go inward, to face your worst demons: biggest fear, burdening guilt, ever-growing sense of self-loathing… And then, be able to accept those demons as one of you instead of repressing or neglecting them.
Only when the whole existence of your character is in the picture, the good and the bad laying side by side, one person would take the first step of living his authentic life. A life which one would be free of fears, of doubts and filled with love, inspiration, mindfulness.
I wonder what it would be like.
I’m writing this as a practitioner, not a master of overcoming inner demons.
Daily Journal #1. 11h26ph. 16 04 17