The beginning of any story, of any journey is uncertain, chaotic, ambiguous and sometimes downright filled with angst.
We don’t get to see the full picture in the beginning—only glimpses, only introductions to the characters that will have big and small influence. I don’t about you but, to be honest, I really don’t like beginnings, they stress me out because I just want to know what happens — I just want to know if the heroine finds out the truth of her identity, if the underdog becomes victorious, if the unlikely choice wins the one whom they love over.
The beginnings give us too many unanswered questions.
Who are they? Where will they go? Where will they end up? Who will love them or who will they love?
The beginning is the start of all the grit.
It is where we have to make a name for ourselves and figure out what that means for the rest of our story, it is the first step in the journey; but sometimes, we don’t always get to experience the first step because we are so crippled by fear. Fear tells us it’s too uncertain, fear tells us we aren’t equipped, fear urges us to run backwards to where it was comfortable. The beginning is messy and sometimes we shy away from the messy but how will we know what beauty our hands can create unless we are willing to dig down into the grime?
[](https://yellow-blog-images.imgix.net/2016/05/9867032_orig.jpg) I’ve been told (throughout the many Yellow workshops, gatherings and other creative resources) that the beginning of the creative journey is unstable, chaotic and just straight up a hot mess. I figured that I had somewhat of an advantage because I was both left AND right brained. Creative but also slightly OCD, obsessed with lists and color coded planner…so there was no way it was going to be messy because I was going to control it; I was going to _make it clean and smooth. Oh my goodness was I wrong, you don’t get clean and you don’t get smooth in order to make something that is born from the ashes. No story, no beginning is as beautiful as its end. All of those tears, sweat and uncertainties from the beginning to the middle are necessary for fruitful ends and most times, we don’t get to plan; we don’t get to control; we just have to plunge in.
Fear tells us it’s too uncertain, fear tells us we aren’t equipped, fear urges us to run backwards to where it was comfortable. The beginning is messy and sometimes we shy away from the messy but how will we know what beauty our hands can create unless we are willing to dig down into the grime?
I had someone ask me a few months ago what classes, or internship did I complete in order to do what it was I was doing now…I kind of had to giggle a little at her question. Giggle at the thought of thinking about my five years in college pursuing leadership and a Psychology Degree. Giggle at the thought that everyday I just wake up and something is different, changing and new. No class can prepare you for what you are born and made to do. No internship can qualify you for what your hands by nature have no choice but to create. The beauty of grit, my friends, that we often lose sight of is that it’s not what hinders us, it’s what makes us.
Photos by Andrea David
