I love dark chocolate cashews. They have become my go-to dessert/afternoon snack over the past few years. The fact that they have no gluten and less sugar than most other deserts makes me less inclined to jump back on the treadmill for an extra thirty minutes.
Sometimes.
Every now and then, I pull out a beastly nut from the bunch. These hulking morsels look like they might have been lab created or zapped with an enlarging gun. If I didn't specifically order them from a sustainable organic farm, I might be suspicious. But nope, these babies are a product of unrestricted nature.
Delish.
And when I let my silly creativity take over, this scene happens. Intimidation among nuts: A David and Goliath retelling. I guess that makes me the nut here. I enjoyed them all equally and digested them into antioxidant-boosted energy.
But intimidation is a key ingredient in most stories. Just like our cashew example, fear can make anyone act irrationally. Once we allow ourselves to believe in a possible outcome, even if it's a lie, we often lose our ability to think rationally. We fold inward, and seek comfort in others who share our fears—and it can keep up stagnant. This response is natural and, if you believe in Biblical Creationism, was one of the first emotions Adam and Eve felt after they disobeyed God's only command.
Fear is ingrained in humans, and it's not going anywhere.
But we all know someone who conquered fear in their lives and rose to a place we wish we could go. And this is where a story begins.
When I think of the inciting incidents in almost every story I've written, they all stem from a character stepping outside their comfort zone. "Enough of this, I'm doing something different!"
Move away.
Kick a self-destructive habit.
Work toward a coveted goal, even though it has a high probability of failure.
Do something that scares them until it doesn't anymore.
Finally ask for help.
All of these scenarios force the protagonist (or us) to face up to the lies of those imagined futures. These lies come in many forms. They are lies because they haven't come true yet. Fear makes us think they will.
I'll never be good enough.
I can't go there.
This (enter inability/affliction) stopped me last time. It will stop me forever.
Giving up is smarter than working hard for nothing.
At least my misery is predictable. May as well stay put.
When we read a book or watch a show, we hope the characters will overcome their challenges. If they can do it, maybe we can, too. Even if it's fiction. For those of us who went through difficult times and overcame, we smile when a character finally gets it. "See how much trouble you would have saved if you did that sooner?"
Sooner.
I'm constantly working on becoming someone who tackles her problems sooner. Drops bad habits sooner. Catches herself being a butt sooner. I won't ever get it right all the time, but I'm making it a priority. As soon as my focus drifts, I'm in danger of backtracking. And I hate playing catchup, hah.
We can all do better to choose kindness first, listen first, put ourselves in someone else's shoes before we judge. It's intimidating to own up to our own personal gunk, but it's better than having a lengthy list of people to whom we owe an apology. Been there, done that.
Keep on smilin'!
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