Perfection’s Gift, Part Two

For the Writer, the dream is only beginning to unfold.

Beginnings are exciting, but they are so scary.

The fear triggers the Writer's Perfection. Unleashing anxiety manifests unintended but malicious insecurity.

But the Writer does not push Perfection away. She, Perfection, is a part of The Writer.

There is never a time when rejection or burying our feels works. So the Writer asks permission for a hug.

Perfection snarls, a glowering flicker in her Golden-brown eyes. But then she nods giving consent.

She hugs Perfection.

Perfections squirms.

The Writer holds her ever tighter. Eventually, the Writer's radiant, radical love melts the fear away.

In the moment of breath, the Writer offers her Perfection a new role, the chance to rescript their relationship moving forward.

The Writer asks Perfection if she would like to be an observer instead of a critic.

In that way, Perfection could help collaborate by noticing the world around the Writer—her feelings, the material world. Beauty in darkness, vanishing points, dimensions, textures, and the blinding heat of the light.

The world is so complicated, and observation as presence and breath are so vital for the Writer's creative process to bloom.

In this role, Perfection gifts the Writer the ability to weld words into a hyper-realistic style. A fun space for the Writer to grow.

Slowly closing the laptop, she lets her breath go thanking Perfection for her grace and beauty.

The World of Words is quite Magic, the Writer whispers.

Perfection smirks, looking around, noticing while letting go of control and her rage.