Today’s Prompt: Write about a time when you were fearless.
This is one of those prompts that has me staring at the screen, blankly.
The times that people have called me fearless have been the times I’ve been the most scared.
My friend Kyndall taught me a lot about the relationship between fear and strength. When you corral your fear and focus it, it becomes your superpower. She told me a story about that one time. It had a werwolf and stairs and an attic for sure. I think there were wings involved as well, and maybe a mirror. I think she will publish it one day.
It’s hard for me to write about a time when I was fearless, but it might have been the first time I ever read a poem I had written out loud. I didn’t think it was very good at all but I wanted Kyndall to read her poems, so I proposed this crazy idea that we do a poetry event together. It was magical. The people loved the poem. It was about my son Clayton and something he said to me when he was getting dressed. I’m a pastor and so I speak to people every week. It’s just a poem I said to myself. Just words on a page. But they aren’t just words on a page. They’re my words about my little boy and what if everybody thinks it’s a stupid poem.
At the end everyone said “awwww.” They loved it. It was the moment I transformed from a person who plunked out awkward writings on random files in my computer to a poet. Fearless.
I’ll always be grateful to Kyndall for writing such beautiful poetry that I would risk throwing my mediocre poetry up alongside it just to have the opportunity to speak in the same space as her. She’s fearless, but I am, too.
This post is a part of the 25 days of advent writing and photos that I’m doing with my church Northwood Presbyterian Church, San Antonio. For the writing portion, I’ve just set a timer for 20-30 minutes and whatever I have at the end of the time, I post. No editing past the time limit… no worries if there are errors or if I stare at the screen for the first 15 minutes. Giving it a try.