Ego

It is the ego that stops me short. I want to be liked, to believe that I am sharing something profound. I hide the truth, leave it on the journal page, or stowed away with other attempts that my fear of not being liked prevents me from sharing. Rejection, not for the ideas, but for the thought I haven't skillfully projected ideas on paper. I can be completely all in on an essay, a sermon, a meditation and certain I've found a tidbit of truth or insight, and then never move it from the privacy of a hard drive folder that is overflowing with other rejcted pieces. My youngest son has a rejection letter from the New Yorker. My rejection letters come from my own mind.

— Steve