And it was okay actually

Tuesday 17th January

Yesterday I was so nervous about the writing group, you know, irrational fears of meeting new people, which were, of course, totally unfounded.  And it was all right.  No, I really mean it.  There were three or four regulars who had been on the course before, and two others beside myself who were novices.

Rosie was very welcoming and put us all at ease by insisting that we didn’t have to read anything out at all, if we didn’t want to.  And she also told us that her job was not to criticize but to help us to write a bit better.  We had a couple of little exercises; to write a short piece on a suggested subject, not such a hard task, and fun in a way.  Then Rosie talked about getting started with writing, and then nearly everyone read something out.  I had prepared a short bit of a story which hadn’t gone anywhere, and a short poem.  I wish I had chosen the poem actually as the piece I read seemed flat as I heard the words out loud.  No worse than anyone else’s at any rate, so not such a bad start.

But why do I get so nervous of new things; is it because for so long I did everything with Edward?  Or have I always been this way?  I don’t think so, I was always a bit reserved, not one to push themselves forward, but quite prepared to join in once I knew the ground rules.  I think it is a product of ageing, where once you were the dominant generation, now you are so often ignored.  Where once you had no hesitation, now you are more careful. Where once you took life in your stride, now even the smallest steps appear to daunt you.  Where once you didn’t question yourself, now you question your place in the world, and life itself.

Anyway, the group has helped me a bit, it has given me some focus, which I feel I needed.   I am not alone any more, there are several idiots out there scribbling away like me.