“Everywhere’s a starting place” by Catherine Brazeau
A postcard length piece about our most important pursuit
It’s always a joy to meet other people who are doing the thing I’m still learning to do. It’s also intimidating as I think about my own feeble attempts at writing. It’s hard not to feel like an imposter, especially when your inner voice steps in to remind you that you haven’t taken enough writing classes or spent enough time editing.
Even though I’m more practiced than I was a few years ago, that doesn’t get rid of my doubts or my insecurities.
“It’s our last class and I have nothing to share,” says my inner voice.
Then God says, “Write about that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Write about your inability to write anything worth sharing. Let’s see what happens.”
And so, I begin. I take a deep breath and start writing something that’s sort of coherent but mostly about what I’m wallowing in and it’s a miserable slog and it’s sounding very self-indulgent and incredibly boring to anyone who isn’t me. Nobody’s here for a front row seat for my navel gazing!
I get so far along and suddenly I’m fed up with it. I’m fed up with my lack of talent. I’m fed up with winter. I start to question why I’m showing up here at all.
But then, little bits of words show up; sentences begin to form. It’s a bit limp and there’s blood. Like a cat bringing a dead mouse to the door. A sacramental offering to the gods of thoughts and words?
Maybe I have something to share after all! I feel my pleasure rising like a dopamine hit after a run. Suddenly, I am here. I have left there behind. The blank page shifts from intimidation to invitation.
And the great mystery begins again.
Catherine Brazeau is a retired designer and brand consultant who enjoys cooking, running, and exploring creativity through writing. Most of all, she delights in spending time with her four grandchildren, whom she calls the greatest antidote to ageism. “My grandkids don’t ignore me yet,” she jokes. She lives in Pelham with her husband of 40 years—also an artist. You can read more of her musings at The Next Iteration, on Substack.
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I was where you are (who am I kidding I still am!), Catherine, but little by little, that voice fades. It never goes away, of course. There will never be enough time for classes and workshops, but there is always a minute or two to write. Keep writing!
Whaaaat!? I'm not the only one who feels like an imposter when I attempt to be a writer?????