The world is so locked in on data. Sources. Proof.
I can’t tell you how many ideas, perspectives, and opinions I hold back on due to not feeling like I have all my ducks in a row first. Because I don’t have the numbers or proof to justify it.
There could be someone right in front of me spouting complete hogwash (yes, I said hogwash)…
I could be all fired up ready to write an eloquently passionate post about something dear to my soul…
…and just as I’m about to speak my truth, my evil twin voice pops up in my psyche and slams on the brakes...
That just doesn’t make sense, Jonas…
Who in their right mind would believe that?
Have you checked the facts?
What if they take your idea the wrong way?
What if you offend them and cause a scene?… Awwwkward
What if you contradict what you said yesterday or last month?
What if they come back with a super witty reply and reveal to your wife, daughter, and good Lord herself how stupid you are?
What if they gather their friends to form an “Anti-Jonas Alliance” that shows up on your front porch wielding pitchforks, torches, and Axe body spray?
And so I sit. Docile. Flacid. While my words die a stillbirth...
Waiting to be proved.
Waiting to be perfected.
Waiting to gain immaculate clarity.
A whole graveyard full of these lay strewn about the catacombs of my mind.
So often, I’m terrified to be misunderstood.
To make waves.
To look stupid.
To express my truth in all its brutish ways.
Nah… I’d better hold back and keep it to myself until it becomes something that I’m sure every last person on the planet will fully understand and take the way I intend them to.
Bullshit! I’m calling b-u-l-l-s-h-i-t on this mental spawn of the reptilian brain.
A Higher Part of myself cares not if it’s misunderstood.
It’s not in the business of footnotes. Boldness is what it’s after.
All I must listen to is this burning feeling in my gut that punches its fist against my innards, yearning to be expressed through me.
I must get it out there. Naked and flawed as it is. Bloody and vulnerable as it may be.
I WILL be misunderstood. But I know I’m in good company.
Kanye West is misunderstood. So is Dr. Oz. I’ve never liked that guy. But I’m sure I’m only misunderstanding him (and his hair).
Look at their success…
I could be right there… Kanye. Oz. And Jonas.
Do you understand what I’m saying?
You don’t hate me now do you?
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