Never Give Up, Even When It's Terrible

I can say with certainty that over the years I've engaged in a slow, rolling start to my dream of being "a writer". I absolutely want to write. I've always wanted to write, and here and there I have written a few different things. Nothing very noteworthy, though some pieces more significant (to me) than others. It's really that I need to write. A living, breathing story is ready to burst, but my odd dilemma is that the face of it remains a mystery to me. Oh how I want that certainty!
I'm hoping that with practice and invitation, the creation will come forward. It may not, but if I don't try, we will never have the chance to meet.

So I'm starting again, now. In a year, if I haven't written anything, it will just be a year later, a year of inaction, a year of the same dreams burning a hole in my heart. What good is that? I know my writing will be terrible (and look, it is), but I'm going in anyway. Up until this point, my life has had a low grade fear fever fueling most every move - including trying to write - and I'm ready to apply the ice. I'll save fear for it's correct application, battling a fiery dragon, say, or running from a hungry tiger. I would have something to write about, then...