Writing in the Margins
I’m sitting at my desk, getting ready for this afternoon. I’ve printed off my business cards (designed by my dear friend) and the two pieces I’ll be reading this afternoon. I have my prompts ready for the workshop.
Today is the “official launch” of Writing in the Margins, and it’s both incredibly exciting and nerve-wracking.
This business has been percolating in the back (and often the front) of my mind for many years – I wrote the content for my first writing workshop almost four years ago. This day has been years in the making.
And yet, this morning I find myself struggling with the anxiety that I often feel, my stomach made entirely of butterflies. These are not the gently fluttering butterflies that we all know and love, however. These are punk rock butterflies, and there’s a mosh pit in my stomach.
What if the business is a flop? What if I can’t keep up with all my commitments? What if my workshops are terrible?
I’ve learned through many years of dealing with anxiety that these self-sabotaging inner voices are best dealt with through acceptance and compassion. My inner voices don’t actually want me to fail, but anticipating the worst is a way to theoretically make the pain easier to deal with if it does happen. It makes sense. It’s normal. Most people feel anxiety before setting out in a new direction.
I accept this part of myself, and I know that the best response is a gentle one. Feel the fear, and do it anyway. Drink a lot of tea. Take deep breaths. Trust that if you follow your passion, you will find good things. Growth. Learning. Maybe even success in more tangible forms. So that’s what I’m doing. Drinking tea, breathing deeply, trusting that this is a step in a positive direction. I see a need in Calgary for safe and supportive spaces for exploration and expression, and I know I can meet that need. I can bring compassion and acceptance to the marginalized groups I hope to work with. I’ve run many workshops in the past, and I have facilitated both The Smutty Story Circle and Possibilities Calgary Bisexual + Pansexual Community for years now. I can create small bubbles of safe space that have the potential to expand out into larger bubbles of safe space, reducing shame and opening important lines of communication.
But I need to begin, if I’m going to do that. I am creating this space, making these workshops possible. It starts, officially, today.
Today is many firsts.
The first day my business is officially a business!
The first workshop presented under my business name.
The first time I’ll be reading my own erotica to a room full of strangers. …
That last one is the one that’s tripping me up.
That’s the real mosh pit, there.
I’ll be reading two pieces, both written by me in the last year. The first is pretty light and easy, heavy on the metaphor and light on the graphic sex. I am confident I can read that one to a room full of strangers. The second is more of a challenge. More explicit, more personal, more kinky, and longer.
But I’m going to read them both. Partly because I have to fill 15 minutes and it’s a bit late to sub in a less explicit piece, and partly (mostly) because Writing in the Margins is supposed to be a welcoming, accepting, supportive and community-building endeavour. How can I ask my participants to take the risk of exploring their identities, their desires, their fantasies, their fears… how can I ask that, if I’m not willing to take that risk myself? (Though workshop participants are never obligated to share their work with the group, so it’s a bit different! As a Writing in the Margins workshop participant, you will never be asked to share anything that you are not entirely comfortable sharing – you can attend a full 6-session workshop series and never share a piece of your work with me or the rest of the group, and that would be totally fine.)
And now, a quick bite to eat, throw my business cards in my bag and I’m off! Wish me luck. I’m taking my writing out of the margins and onto the stage.
