That Wall That Keeps Stopping Me
What the journey is about.
My soul clamors for a creative release. Yet whenever I reach for a pen, a paintbrush, a keyboard, or a blank page, something unsettling happens.
A fog creeps in, and a familiar voice begins to whisper:
Stop. You don't know enough. Don't even try.
The longing to create remains, but my confidence quietly slips away.
That pattern has followed me for as long as I can remember. I call it That Wall, a place where hope and limitation meet.
This wall is not made of brick or stone, yet it feels remarkably solid. Sometimes it sits like a chunk of concrete in my gut. Other times, it pulses through my chest, leaving me restless and uncertain.
Its message has taken many forms over the years.
Stop. Don’t risk being disappointed. Don’t hope too much.
What frustrates me most is not that the wall exists. It is that it seems untouched by time. Decade after decade, it stands firm, guarding the entrance to possibilities I long to explore.
Even now, something within me continues to press forward. I still believe there is more life to be lived, more wisdom to uncover, and more creativity waiting to emerge.
So, I find myself asking: What is inside That Wall?
What memories, fears, disappointments, or old messages give it such power?
I don't yet know the answers.
But I suspect that understanding the wall may be a step toward moving beyond it.
