Just. Keep. Swimming.

For the past 2 years, I've been wondering whether my I'm on the right path in life, as we all think about from time to time. I've always known I don't like to have any stones unturned in life (and I've always tried anything that appeals to me), but sometimes there are things that always draw you back. Writing is that thing for me. It's the rebellious teenage boyfriend your mother loves to hate, that's writing for me.

I was told making a career in writing is scary, unstable, risky. So much so that I have stopped writing in any capacity (besides my journal), though having a blog/ becoming a freelance writer has always been at the back of my mind. I've always had this thirst for self-expression.

We all have those pre-approved occupations that our parents, society would condone / encourage us to do. Nevertheless, some of us may stray from those pre-approved paths, temporarily or permanently. Like Moana (in the Disney animation), there are some of us who continuously stare at the proverbial "edge of the water", but the difference between me and Moana, is that now I know why. Deep down, we all know why.

Though fulfilment and contentment (happiness whatever you want to call it), is as fleeting as any other emotion can be, some things can spark joy like nothing else can. That again, is writing for me.

If it's so clear that writing is IT for me, why have I strayed too far from it all these years, you may ask? Now that requires an appointment with my therapist for you to understand why I have done so. The short version of it, is FEAR. Fear keeps me from taking the leap. Though fear is a basic emotion, it's a feeling that even as a full-grown adult, I have not fully learned to navigate (I'm trying). Debilitating fear that strangely comes from FINALLY being able to do the thing that I care about is too heavy to carry. Too daunting, paired with my penchant for overthinking and I was stuck in analysis paralysis, magnifying my fear. It's a cruel cycle. A simple task like choosing which medium to promote my blog on became such an arduous task that I will mull it over for days and months, without actually moving me into action.

I was in the midst of my usual complaining and explaining about my fear to my husband over dinner, when he told me that, what got him to finally make the plunge to get over his fear is to"play chicken" with oneself. (Play chicken: The act of doing something towards your goal that you are unable to turn back from, example, if your dream was to be a painter, is to paint a piece and post it online to be sold). I remember, this is similar to when I was learning to swim, I had a deep fear for water, but I remember that I told myself the best way to get through swimming a whole pool in my swimming class is to launch off hard and fast, by kicking my feet against the wall as hard as I can, and then to swim damn it, swim. Swim as fast as I can, and before I knew it, I'm already at the other side of the pool, then I would repeat this and before I knew it, I've already completed a lap. I told myself if I ever wanted to learn how to swim (which ironically came from my fear of water) I must kick myself off the wall and just swim.

I then realise this is what I have to do; getting over my fear, requires me to do the exact same thing as when I was learning how to swim. Take the simplest, but irrevocable actions. I just have to go for it. Serendipity is strange, I have talked to my therapist about my fear for so long and yet I was unable to move into action, yet, this small conversation I had with my husband over dinner is finally doing it for me.

"It's that simple" my rational mammalian brain might ask? Yes.

Is it easy? No.

Should I do it? Hell yes.

I have to "play chicken" or "kick myself off" from the wall as hard as I can and don't turn back. Hopefully, by kicking hard and launching myself off the wall, I'll end up on the other side of the pool, till then, I'll keep swimming.