So I’ve delved back into the world of books….

as a bookseller.

Much of my life has centered around the written word and sometimes I think I’m funnier or more personable or easier to understand on the page (screen?) than in person, so I guess it’s apt.

Since I was 15, I’ve:
*written music/culture reviews/articles/poetry (high school, college, zines, 1991-present)
*worked at my hometown newspaper (there was something exhilirating about holding the freshly inked and still wet pages in my hands)
*taken more literature classes than I care to remember
*written more short stories than I care to remember
*worked for a major international publishing house
*returned to academia to write some more
*written bits in other people’s books
*worked in a bookstore

Sometimes I wonder if the universe is trying to tell me that even though sometimes I try to ignore it (and sometimes succeed), there is no escaping constructing sentences and paragraphs in my head for purposes other than conversation. Even if I write little but emails for weeks, at some point I will end up scribbling thoughts for a work that may or may not materialize.

Working in the bookstore has had two effects:

1. reminded just how many people out there have written books, articles and essays
2. reminded me how somewhere along the way I let fear stop me from developing my own work more

On my dinner break tonight, I was reading the new Oprah magazine. I admit it, I love the woman. There seemed to be a recurring theme regarding getting over fears.

After I had finished my sandwich and coffee, the magazine lingered with me as I walked through the aisles continuing to catch glimpses of random titles, many dealing with the topic of fear.

Why do we let fear rule our lives?

I mean, really, it holds so many of us in its talons that numerous people are writing books about it. And continuing to get them published.

Is it jadedness that holds us from our dreams (and perhaps, destiny)? Is it sloth? Or is it just an extension of what happens when we completely ignore that this is our *life*, and that we’re not meant to repeatedly tuck our dreams into a corner?

I find it amazing that fear has become a construct of life. That daily we listen to people go on and on about how miserable they are, when perhaps they would be more fulfilled if they stood up to fear and complacency?

I, for one, am sick of hearing myself and others, play a tape loop that is dominated by fear. Imagine what could happen if we challenged the fear instead of gave into it? Because I think that if we sat down and wrote down our own fears and faced them on paper, they might just begin to seem less intimidating.

This entry isn’t due to spending all evening straightening up the self-help section (I didn’t), it’s due to the fact that after spending many hours surrounded by the work of individuals who conquered my own particular fear. I’ve decided to challenge my fear instead of acquiescing, because sometimes the only one that can change the tape loop is you.