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<\/a><\/p>\nI\u2019ve sat here for an hours reading old journals, emails, and watching Youtube to find exactly what I want to encourage you with today and I\u2019ve got\u2026.nothing.<\/p>\n
No major piece of wisdom.<\/p>\n
No pretty turn of a phrase.<\/p>\n
No words from the Lord.<\/p>\n
Not even a good video to show.<\/p>\n
Nothing.<\/p>\n
And I could feel like\u00a0 failure because I\u2019m a writer with no words.\u00a0 But I decided that even though I don\u2019t have words, I\u2019m going to show up, write from the heart, and give myself permission to not be perfect.<\/p>\n
And I think that\u2019s the biggest obstacle when it comes to writing for me\u2013 the perfection.\u00a0 There is an incessant need to have \u201can angle\u201d, \u201ca point of view\u201d, \u201ca unique voice\u201d that tends to push back the real Osheta.\u00a0 And you, my sweet readers, deserve the real me.<\/p>\n
So here we go, here\u2019s the real me, not knowing what to write, but showing up anyway:<\/p>\n
The real me is sitting on her couch with dishes stacking in the sink and she\u2019s drowsing off.<\/p>\n
The real me has her hair in a messy bun, and not the cute, sexy kind\u2013 the frizzy, wild kind.\u00a0 The kind that says to my husband, \u2018not tonight, Babe\u2013 these splint ends will cut you!\u2019<\/p>\n
The real me is amazed at the prayers in her journal that were answered and marveling at the fact she\u2019s nanny for a little boy she wrote a prayer for when he was still in the womb\u00a0 and mom was in the hospital, bed-ridden and labeled as an \u201cat-risk\u201d pregnancy.<\/p>\n
The real me just ate two and half chocolate chip cookies.\u00a0 After 7pm.\u00a0 And she hasn\u2019t brushed her teeth yet.<\/p>\n
The real me is listening to a teenage boy band and feeling like that creepy cougar mom on any prime-time special.<\/p>\n
So, what do I write when I don\u2019t know what to write\u2013 I write my truth. I write my reality. I write my most authentically.\u00a0 I write silly and goofy and a little but irreverent.<\/p>\n
And I know this post is written only out of a promise to myself to see every day for the rest of this month through with encouragements, and tomorrow morning, oh tomorrow morning with her newness and fresh coffee will have another, more thoughtful post.\u00a0 But although I\u2019ve given tomorrow\u2019s post a great deal of thought,\u00a0 I wouldn\u2019t say it\u2019ll be more perfect than tonight\u2019s.\u00a0 This.\u00a0 This right here is a piece of my perfection\u2013 imperfect prose and impressively normal truths.<\/p>\n
From now on, when I don\u2019t know what to write, I\u2019ll give myself permission. Permission to show up and be a little bit messy.\u00a0 Permission given to me from my friend Sherry, that I generously lavish over myself when I don\u2019t have the \u201cright words\u201d.<\/p>\n
Sherry when she saw me walking up to church, placed her hand on my shoulder and said, \u201cI love what you write.\u00a0 It\u2019s beautiful and some of it\u2026I wish I wrote.\u201d<\/p>\n
a little bit embarrassed, I shrugged, \u201cOh, well sometimes I don\u2019t know what to write so I go days without writing.\u201d<\/p>\n
Sherry, with a twinkle in her eye, smirked,<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, that\u2019s ok\u2013 I give you permission to no know what to write.\u00a0 I give you permission because we sometimes don\u2019t want to give it to ourselves and you need it, you need permission to be quiet and without words.\u00a0 I give you permission to rest and wait for the words to come. I give you permission to write when you feel inspired.\u00a0 I give you permission to be yourself.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\nWhat a wise, wonderful, dear woman.<\/p>\n
So if you, fellow writer, are like me and you don\u2019t know what to write, start with your truth.\u00a0 Start with where you are right this very second.\u00a0 Start with the honesty of your humble surroundings, the realness of your messy kitchen, the authenticity of your unsexy split ends.\u00a0 Then give yourself permission, to write free and unfettered, to write scary and senseless, to write what your feel, when you feel it, and without any thought of perfection.\u00a0 Let your gift of an imperfect prose be the true hallmark of your perfection.\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\nThen give yourself permission to hit publish, because no truer has your writing been, no more valuable to your readers, and no better glimpse into the person behind those words has there ever been and it would be a tragedy to not share in this moment.<\/p>\n
You have permission, will you accept it?<\/p>\n
Shalom in the Showing Up,<\/p>\n
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