Jun 17, 2024 Diarist

Confession of A Hermit Crab

The importance of taking action despite the risk of failure

I missed two weeks on Medium in May because resistance swept me over.

I joined Medium in April and quickly realized how invaluable reader feedback is crucial to improvement. How much it helps me be aware of the depth of the unconscious dread, old habits, and thought patterns in which I drown myself every time I see an email notifying me of a new engagement.

This is the reason I’m here. In the online writing world with a built-in audience — Exposed.

It’s because I want to amplify the feeling of fear and battle it head-on.

And yet, I forgot my why.

I’ve been hiding in my personal blog cave, fooling myself that, “Here I am, showing up in the internet world and being seen.”

My blog has had zero traffic since 2022, except for nineteen of my friends and family members, most of which English isn’t their first language. I felt safe with the fact that my readership was voided, but there was no growth in any way except that I got to write.

But I had just come out of a five-year-long process of quietly writing my memoir and short stories stored in the Google Docs archive in the comfort of my own home.

Too many words were written, pages were unread, stories were untold, and calls were unanswered; all because of fear.

Damn.

The time is now

Forty-five years passed, and how much longer will I act like I don’t have much value to share when I do?

We were given a certain period in this life, and that period is not long.

Wouldn’t it be nice if while we’re here, we’re good and useful to each other?

Now, will the world see our work and hear our meaningful messages or not?

It’s only up to us, and us only.

The importance of taking action despite the risk of failure

In 2021, I participated in Nanowrimo, a daily writing challenge where participants aim to write a 50,000-word novel in 30 days, and I made it through.

At the end of that 1,666-word-a-day month, I learned that holding a bad first draft of the manuscript in my hands is far better than never being able to print one out at all.

This month, I’ll be documenting my daily writing progress in public. I’m not sure whether it will be big or small essays, but it will be consistently for 30 days.

Progress over perfection.

Come what may.

When in doubt, “Man In the Arena,” a quote by Theodore Roosevelt, always lights the way and kindles hope for me.

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.” — Theodore Roosevelt.

Yes. If I fail, I’ll fail in public, but what if I make it? I’ll be celebrating that victory in public too.

For far too long, I’ve been a hermit crab, tucked safely within my home shell, shielded from the reality of being seen. But now, the time has come to shed this familiar armor and let the gentle breeze caress my newly exposed skin. I’m, ready to embrace the vulnerability, to feel the sun’s warmth and the fresh air, to write fearlessly, fail miserably, but I get to live fully.

And what can be better than that?

Feeling the aliveness of life every day, doing what we love, and flowing in bliss.

Thank you for spending your time with me today.