Thursday, October 27, 2011

Shooting cows

I have a great fear of waking up on my deathbed and realizing I forgot to live my life.  So when my sister the writer says you have to keep writing “even if you can shoot a cow through the holes in the plot,” I listen.  And when a friend says that anything worth doing is worth doing badly, I listen.
These statements evince a level of commitment of which I am envious.  I may use over-commitment as my excuse, but it’s most often not time but fear that holds me back.  I can feel drawn to doing something, called, almost impelled—but as soon as I run into a roadblock—disapproval, exhaustion, judgment—I shy away.
But in the end, who cares if you can shoot cows through your plot, or that you didn’t do something well? Doesn’t it really matter that you tried to be alive?
Mary Therese DesCamp

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