Warrior goddess

After this book, I think I need to write stories about warrior women. This idea came to me the other day as I was taking a shovel out of the shed. I picked it up by the handle, the shovel part down and held it up above my head and then launched it into the ground about 5 feet away. It stuck with the vibration of having hit hard. Of course, I wasn’t pretending to be warrior woman or anything. I was just trying to get it out of the shed where I could use it and just happened to choose a unique method of doing so.

Nevertheless, I suddenly had the vision of a warrior woman dressed in something that was both armor and flowing white silk. She was powerful and instead of a sword, she held a spear above her head. When she raised her spear in a chant, the wind blew up around her, swirling leaves at her feet. And I knew she was me, or at least some part of me. She is the woman that sets off to both defend and conquer. She is the brave part of me. (Notice that I didn’t say fearless. Fearlessness and bravery are not the same. You can be brave in the face of fear.)

I used to imagine I was a warrior princess, especially when the shy, awkward me would say or do the wrong thing or when the normal me wasn’t good enough to meet the very high and lofty standards set by my mother. I could imagine my warrior goddess brandishing a sword or spear and vanquishing the feelings of inadequacy that so frequently surrounded me. I wanted to be her so badly. She was all that was adventuresome and she was unafraid of her quests.

I hadn’t really imagined her in a long time. She’s run fleetingly through my mind on many occasions, but I never dwelt on her in my adulthood like I did the other day. I think she was a defender I conjured in my imagination as a child, but I also think she is a real part of me. Perhaps, she is a part I’ve neglected of late. But her image has been more and more pronounced over the past days. Her figure seems real to me. I almost feel like she’s following me – waiting for me to turn around and embrace her. I’m not sure how to do that. I think if I embrace her, we become one in the same.

And in saying that, I realize that she’s following me because she wants me to embrace her. And I also realize that I haven’t because becoming so powerful is scary.

We’ve been talking about fear in the Girls class. I think there is a part of me that is fearful of my potential. I went through life as the “smart one” and while being smart opened a lot of doors for me, it also resulted in pain and ridicule and extra tough challenges making friends. However, I’m still the smart one at work. I’m the one that knows the answers to my questions and knows what I want to do. I do it and don’t worry about who’s onboard because I know, in the end, my idea will work.

I’m a bit afraid to do that with writing (okay – a lot afraid). I know the story I want to tell. I know what I want to say – mostly. But what if it isn’t right? What if I can’t finish it? What if I get to a point – maybe this point – and the story has no meat and I can’t figure out what’s next and I just can’t do it?

I don’t know if it’s fear of failure (but it sure sounds like it) or if its fear of all the what if’s.

Regardless, I have this black mustang with a flowing mane and this warrior goddess with spear and sword just standing ready. Waiting. I found them or they found me or we found each other. Maybe I finally recognized that they’ve been standing there. Now I feel like all I have to do is embrace them. But how do I do that?

Maybe I just write, regarding the advice of others with an open mind, but sticking to the voice and path I’ve chosen. Maybe I don’t worry about the “what ifs”. Isn’t the point of a quest to seek something valuable? And won’t the quest have pitfalls to skirt around or climb from if I fall in? But won’t my warrior and my mustang help me with that? Isn’t that the point?

(Ah, and then there is the quest thing. Barbara Samuels said she thought my voice had to do with quests. I went to a day long workshop with her. Amazing. If quests, and warriors, and wild mustangs are part of my voice, then I’m definitely taking her voice workshop in April. I want to know them intimately.)

So, does all this rambling have a point? Sure. Now you know I’m truly crazy.

No. No. That’s not the point.

I need to embrace my voice, my vision of my writing career, my hopes and dreams – my warrior goddess and the great mustang. I need to acknowledge my fears, but refuse to let them be in control. I do, after all, have that very fast mustang and a great big sword. I need to write this story – a good one I think. Then, I need to move on to the one I really want to tell.

The one with the warrior goddess.

Macy