I’ve been going through The Book of Alchemy: A Creative Practice for an Inspired Life by Suleika Jaouad for the past couple of weeks, and so far I’ve loved every page of it. It’s a collection of 100 short essays written by different writers, artists, and thinkers with a journaling prompt following each essay. The prompts sometimes require different styles of writing, which has allowed me to stretch my voice and explore style a bit more. Overall, I’m having so much fun getting into the practice of reading and writing consistently.

What has come up the most in my reflective writings thus far is my creative anxiety and buried insecurity. Because I struggle to believe in myself, I yearn for acknowledgement from someone out in the great universe, to hear that I am good enough to keep going. That’s why I have a blog and a SoundCloud and a potential creative projects + hobbies platform in the works. (I wonder what I would’ve done if my mom hadn’t encouraged the arts and creativity in my life, would I have stuck with my childhood desire to be a scientist?)

It’s taken years to slowly build my confidence, but I still don’t feel creative enough and I still feel scared to produce—yet I can’t seem to stop.

Am I just seeking attention? I know I’m seeking validation, but no validation seems to be good enough. Whenever I seriously consider making a creative account, I search other amateur musicians, writers, and artists, and I immediately feel I cannot measure up to them. So I think: “what’s the point?” And then I wonder what I really want from a creative social media account. But why am I taking it so seriously? Why can’t it just be fun?

I think, deep down, I do want to “make it,” and I don’t just mean making an account. I want to be good enough to be noticed and acknowledged as a writer or musician or creative person by the public and those communities. But being rejected from publications, flying under the radar, or receiving “hms” and “ahs” from my family when I share my writing or songwriting with them is incredibly discouraging. It makes me feel insecure about my work, because if my own friends and family aren’t interested, who would be? and I try to find some reason to stop. I stop working hard or committing fully to projects because I lose steam.

But I must have an incredibly strong, masochistic drive because I eventually keep writing, keep recording songs, and keep fueling the dream that maybe someday I’ll hear: “wow, that’s really good. I want to see more.” And not in a dismissive kind of way; in a way that actually means something.

I captured the photo for this post when I visited the Hakone Open Air Museum in Japan. The sculpture is by Carl Milles and entitled: “Man and Pegasus.” I was struck by this statue and returned to it multiple times after browsing through the rest of the museum because to me it reflects a deep yearning for something more. The man stretches out as far as he can go, even leaping away from Pegasus for the thing that lies before him. He has no wings, no back-up plan to save him. He simply springs himself forward focused, driven, and honestly pretty nuts.

That unbridled desire for something more speaks to me on a spiritual and creative level. I don’t want to become complacent because my life feels so good right now, or look around at other people and grow smaller, or look down and cling to my comfort zone out of fear. I want to stretch out and be bold and reach with all my might for the things I dream of, for the things that might feel impossible to achieve.

I continue dreaming, and there are enough “failed creatives” out there to acknowledge my dream may remain just a dream. But the sliver of hope, that silver lining on the edge of self-doubt, keeps me going and going and going.