What if my words run out? What if I have nothing left to say? What if my creativity runs dry?
These questions often swirl around as I attempt to move forward. Recently, this happened as I began to write my three hundred and sixty-five letters (read my post 365 Letters to learn more).
The first letter of 2015 was addressed to my husband Ben. Before I had even written the salutation, doubt bubbled to the surface. The fear that manifested was, "Do I have anything new to say to this man?" If I couldn't come up with anything new at this point in our relationship, what would happen in ten years? Twenty years? Thirty? What would I have to say to him then?
This train of thought brings about creative paralysis. As fear enters the equation, the very thing I dread happens. I freeze. I don't live.
If this life is humanity's grand opus, then I should fear the end and work to achieve maximum success before I die.
But what if I changed my perspective? Rather than looking within myself for inspiration, what if I gazed up at the stars? What if I stared into the ocean or tried to count the sand on the shore?
What if I embraced the belief that God exists? And if God does exist, He must be infinite - infinite in time, thought, and creativity. A limited god would then, by definition, not be God.
What if I go a step farther and believe that human beings reflect the nature of the Creator? If I choose to be inspired by God, I have an infinite source of inspiration.
If I consider the possibility that this life is merely a prelude to an eternal symphony, then I am free to create without fear of failure, without fear of a creative end. I would be COURAGEOUS. Creative paralysis would subside.
These are some of the thoughts I penned in the letter to my husband. The words came, and they will surely come again. As I gaze at the stars in the sky, I choose to believe in infinite possibilities.