I never imagined that the Elizabeth Gilbert would even open my DM. It’s actually kind of clunky and poorly worded. A cosmic nudge on my shoulder tapped me and said “you need to share your opening for Scary Stories to tell in the Dark with her.” So I did, and I asked for some words of encouragement. I also threw in permission to screenshot her message back, if she did actually respond. Not only did she send me an encouraging message, she asked the world, literally, to show me some support. We received comments and messages of cheers and love for both of us; Liz Gilbert (famous author) for her grace in lifting up another woman, and Liz Gilbert (Brackish Books lady) for my courage to even ask.
Courage does not come easily to me. Luckily this time it was a cosmic tap on the shoulder. I’ve had other moments in my life where I have witnessed myself, almost out-of-body detonate a nuclear bomb on my life, as if something else had taken over the reins and I was along for the ride. Another female author I greatly admire, Brene Brown, explains the original meaning of the word courage comes from the Latin cor, or heart, those who “tell the story of who they are with their whole heart and who have the courage to be imperfect.” Being courageous, sharing from the heart what you believe is true takes so much vulnerability, but it’s also where the best versions of ourselves come from. The more I show up in this world as my genuine self, the more the universe responds. That is exactly what happened the day that I wrote a quick note to a very famous author in my genuine voice and she was gracious in her response, encouraging her supporters to echo her sentiment, “all the luck in the world.” It has been a journey to be where I am today. As my brother-in-law puts it, I chose courage over the last few years. I faced hard decisions and he thinks each time I chose bravely. I think each time I followed my heart, even in the terrifying moments when logic spoke to me of the dangers, debts and distress my choices would bring. From those in my actual corner, to those who reached out from across the world, I feel the love and positivity coming in, the positive affirmation to keep going.
When I was in high school, I was certain that I would one day be a writer. But not a journalist, or a copywriter, nope, I was going to be a highly respected novelist renowned for my high intellect and highly stylized eloquence and diction. I knew that to write well, I had to read well, so I consumed books. During every trip to a bookstore, I would look for my name to make sure “my spot” wasn’t taken. I distinctly remember being in Harvard Square looking for my name on the spines of books the first time I saw my name. My name?! I looked, pulled out the book and looked at the cover. There it was, Elizabeth Gilbert. In true adolescent fashion, I was not only disappointed, I began an imagined vindication where I would surpass this imposter Elizabeth Gilbert in popularity and success. I actually had the thought, how dare she beat me to the finish line? I was 17, but damnit that was supposed to be “my spot.” And in a very sad way, I did give up a little then. I was not courageous. I was one hell of a badass writer in my imagination, but in reality I was scared of the imperfections in my writing, so I did a lot of other things that I not only knew I could do well, but that I didn’t really give a shit about if they were imperfect.
Fast forward to my divorce. I saw it coming. That out of body experience where I watched as I made all these decisions to undo a life I had worked so hard to create. I re-read Eat, Pray, Love and watched the movie several times throughout the whole process. It was like Liz Gilbert had given me permission to do what she had done – and I took it, and I ran. I started this blog and wrote about searching for myself again while hiking. Once again my penchant for imposter syndrome arose. I felt like my writing was Elizabeth Gilbert meets Cheryl Strayed. Sometimes I would hesitate to continue this blog, thinking that I had nothing new to say, that “this spot” was already taken. Luckily I have learned that in a rising tide, all the boats are lifted. My version, my words, me, I chose to share my story with all its imperfections. Throughout the last few years, some blog posts have been written in a flow state where I feel like I am a vessel spilling out words that need to be put on paper. Other times it has been a knock-down-drag-on-internal-fight to the last line of the post.
So in three weeks when I am up on stage, I will connect with that cosmic power, tap into the energy of a world of support behind me, and be ok to tell my story, flaws and all. I did the hardest part already. I gave myself permission to write absolute shit, and edit the hell out of it. I am in my spot, sometimes too big, sometimes too small, but more and more each day is this place feeling just right.
– Liz
Eloquently said, my dear Lizabean.