Lately I’ve been thinking in terms of fears. It started when I realized I have a fear of becoming too close to people. As I start to write this first piece for Odyssey, another fear surfaces. I am cognizant that I am stepping into the writing world, which means sharing ideas in a new, public way. I become aware of my Fear of Human Completion.

FOHC is the fear that many years from now, I will look back on the early publishings of my youthful self and cringe as I momentarily re-indulge in ideas whose ignorance future me has since met and conquered. It is the fear that cementing ideas in a publication now is to cement my current self, too.

When an article is complete and released into the ether, it may no longer change. The writer, though, will change and grow. When an article is released, it ceases to be a manifestation of the current self, but a past one.

Last week a friend told me that every time he finishes a piece of art, he immediately dislikes it. If it feels really right, he might like it for ten minutes. Writing is the same -- it captures a creative essence, but just for a moment. It solidifies a mental moment, an idea, that is essentially fleeting. This troubles the creator, but she keeps creating because at the same time it enchants her. As she solidifies a series of creative moments through art, she records a greater continuity.

Within FOHC is a subfear, Fear of Wrongness. Is this even an acceptable topic for an Odyssey publication? Why share this internal monologue?

Two Reasons:

1. I am starting a relationship with you, and I want us to make impassioned and soul-connecting eye contact. Something I am learning about myself is that in order for me to be present with others, I often feel the need to acknowledge my internal state. When I don’t, my friends complain that eye contact with me can be a distant and isolating experience.
2. An honest recounting of my internal experience may be reminiscent of something universal. Number fifteen on Jack Kerouac’s list of “30 Beliefs and Techniques for Prose and Life” is “Telling the true story of the world in interior monolog.” Like all Odyssey writers, my job is to share my ideas. If I allowed FOW to consume me, I would conform. If I didn’t allow myself to risk doing it wrong, there would be no reason for me to write.

Now I have declared my fear. Now when you look into my eyes,** we can be together, not alone.***

*Tangent: “The path” implies that time is linear. For this article, I am temporarily suspending my doubts about time’s linearity. I am accepting that we are moving “through” time. “It” is getting “later.” I understand that my wrestling with this notion may seem unrelatable, and you may expect further discourse on this in articles to come.

**More on eye contact in future articles.