When I was in college, I had an English professor who always talked about thresholds. Literally, “the plank, stone, or piece of timber that lies under a door,” threshold is also described as the END; BOUNDARY, “the place or point of entering or beginning.” (Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary) I’m pretty sure it was that contrast that appealed to her: how can it be the end and the point of entering at the same time? It’s really all about the perspective we choose to take.
So I’m thinking of today as a threshold, not as the end. This month has lived up to the term “challenge.” I had to let go of my paralyzing fear of posting something that was less than perfect. Because I did, I was free write some things I might not have ever written.
The welcoming community of writers also made it possible for me to learn and grow. So much amazing writing has been done this month! And the comments of praise and encouragement were more helpful than you can ever know. I appreciate each and every one of them.
But, as I said, this is not the end. Rather, it is the beginning of a new writing life for me. One in which I’m more attuned to keeping my eyes open for new ideas and insights. One in which I make time every day to write.
Because we’re on the threshold of National Poetry Month, I’d like to leave you with this poem by Rita Dove. I think it applies to writing as well:
The First Book
Go ahead, it won’t bite.
Well…maybe a little.
More a nip, like. A tingle.
It’s pleasurable, really.
You see, it keeps on opening.
You may fall in.
Sure, it’s hard to get started:
remember learning to use
knife and fork? Dig in:
You’ll never reach bottom.
It’s not like it’s the end of the world–
just the world as you think
you know it.