The end of one year and the beginning of the next creates for me a clean up list and, for a while I hope, the drive to deal with it. And it’s the perfect rationalization for putting off any writing I had planned to do. So, I’ve been accomplishing things on this “to do” list, things like making appointments, reading old e-mail, returning phone calls, and running errands. Overwhelmed by this burgeoning agenda of responsibilities that reliably gets out of control, I keep thinking about this mounting list of tasks, rather than doing them. You know, thinking about the best time to do these tasks, the right order to do them in, the most efficient way of getting them done. I’m doing the dance of procrastination, in my worn out dancin’ shoes, and that dance has snowballed into not getting anything done. And if your list is anything like mine, it’s constantly growing and evolving, but never shortening. I can look pretty busy on a daily basis, with three kids and two jobs. Sometimes what looks like procrastination is simply the distraction of priorities that come before my own desire to write. As much as I’d like to tell you procrastination has kept me from writing on this blog that I created months ago, there are other factors, one of the biggest being fear. Fear of people’s reactions to my writing, exposing my inner thoughts and opening them to criticism. Fear is the flip side of many emotions; it’s reactive, not proactive. And it’s not something we like to talk about. Let’s face it, a blog is a huge public unveiling of your personal opinions and expressions, and that entices the opinions of others. The famous artist, Edvard Munch, said: “Nature is not only what is visible to the eye – it also shows the inner images of the soul – the images of the back side of the eyes.” That’s how writing is, and it’s what makes me curious about sharing those types of subjects – I want to present the observer’s back door perspective; views that are evocative, that stimulate debate and dialogue. I want to talk about those topics hiding behind our eyes, the ones that make us shift in our seats. It’s uncomfortable to share the images of our soul, but they’re part of who we are as individuals. So let’s agree to sometimes disagree, knowing that here, we’ll call a spade a spade. Then we’ll see what happens.