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Analysis Paralysis


I have this disease where I need to know HOW to do something before I actually try it.  I need to research all the ins and outs.  All questions and possible struggles or failures need to be assessed in the beginning; all materials need to be gathered and assembled.  Clearly this comes from a need for control, but not the manipulation kind of control.  It’s the kind of control that brings peace and unity.  At least it does for me. 

My current obsession is to write my story.  Not the WHOLE story because there are loads of boring parts.  Just the highlights that have intsrumated (my word) the direction of my journey and all the course changes.  Some of these things are good and happy; the result of hard work and determintation.  Some of these things will end up working together for my good because I love God and I’m working on finding my calling according to His purpose.  MOST of these things, these details that create the essence of my story, involve other people.  For years now I’ve understood and accepted the maxim “life moves at the speed of relationships”.  Since I believe that to be true I must admit that my life has been enriched by people and poisoned by people.  While I am working to thank and forgive everyone who’s played a role in my life I find myself at the crux of another life-bending decision. 

I want to write my book.  This book is something I have thought about for almost 15 years now.  I find myself thinking in terms of book titles or chapter titles or names of sections for the book.  Clearly, as I grow and learn, the depth and meaning and direction of the book adjusts.  I’ll be 37 in about nine weeks, and this dream has been something I’ve carried around with me since I was 22.  Maybe younger.  I remember when I said it out loud for the first time.  It was to a “then” friend of mine; we’ve lost touch over the years.  He laughed and said, “How in the world will a 22-year-old write a memoir?” He elaborated with more comments, but I quickly let the conversation end and move on to more interesting things… like the books he was writing.  (insert eye roll here) In no way am I upset at this dude.  I’m more upset with me that I let ONE PERSON’S comment hold so much value in my life that I actually left my dream alone.  I wrote nothing for a long time. 

Going back to my opening statements about needing to know HOW to do something before I even try it is paralyzing for me.  Since I don’t know how to write or publish a book, nor do I know how to tell my story without offending others or “outing” their own secrets I choose to do nothing.  I choose to not write.  But almost all I think about is writing and writing my book.  I want it to be “real time”; what I’m facing RIGHT NOW.  Most of the books I read are written in past tense or if they are written in present tense that’s just the way the writer wrote the story.  They are still already living a version of their “happily ever after” when they write the book so most of the information is based on memories, which DO NOT always tell the truth.  Our brains adjust and revise facts all the time to help us make sense of our world.  I want my book to basically be a publishing of my journal entries that depict the regular, every day, run-of-the-mill, dragon-slaying competition that is my life right now.  My hang up is how do I tell my story without hurting others or bringing shame?  Is it even possible?  Does it matter?  I know I am supposed to speak the truth in love, which probably also means to “write” the truth in love and sometimes love hurts. 
I don’t know.  See what I mean?  I can’t even get started because I don’t know how it will end up or how it’s even possible. 

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