Chariots of Fire

I hate competitions. I choke in the clutch. I am lousy at tests, I even freeze up when I have to take a typing test and that’s what I do for a living…I type. I’m fast, and I type well! But put me behind a word processor with the clock going and it’s like I’m in my first day of typing class. So, I’m a little worried now about the NaNo competition – something I’ve wanted to do for years!!!! Now that it’s almost here, the fear has set in. Why am I so afraid? Can I actually pull this off? Do I have it in me to finish this month-long foray into lunacy? What made me think I can write a novel in one month when I haven’t been able to do it since I was 12? It’s official…I’ve lost my last little bit of grip on reality. I’m crazy! That’s it – I’ve lost it, gone ga-ga, cuckoo.

But…there’s still this itty bitty teeny tiny voice telling me to go for it. I so want to listen to that voice, to believe that siren song that keeps pulling me into writing, to believe that I’m not crazy and I really do have a small modicum of talent. Mostly I want to believe that I can finish this race with my head held high.

So, I tell myself that I will do it. I will tilt my chin into the wind and feel the sun on my face as I jog down the beach with the beautiful piano music from Chariots of Fire softly playing in the background. Actually, I’ll be shifting around in an uncomfortable chair, I have to squint at my old fading monitor because the light over my computer area is bright but I will keep that anything-is-possible feeling and use the soundtrack in my mind as pacing while I write; each letter, then each word and on to each paragraph. I’ll use that momentum to create chapter after chapter, jogging along at a steady speed until the endorphins kick in and I’ll pick up the pace. One more paragraph, one more chapter, a short sprint here, a long jog there…and still, always, the siren’s Steinway song is there. Her beautiful music pulls me along to a destination unknown, fingers pounding the keyboards, heart quaking in fear but now I’m flying, I’m soaring and the song is my own. The chapters fly by and suddenly, the race is my saving grace, my defining moment.

Ahhhh – there it is. The core of my fear: my defining moment. Will I? Won’t I? Can I? Should I? No more second-guessing. As MJ said shortly before his death, “This is the moment….This is it.”