They say “do what you love”. To hell with that.

This bit of advice does me no good because, you see, I love many things. Instead, I would suggest: “do what heals you”.

I don’t know about you but most of the time I stop myself.

I stop myself from pursuing dreams that seem too far-fetched. I stop myself from applying for high-paid jobs. I stop myself even from doing what I enjoy most: writing, traveling, taking photos.

But why?

There is no simple answer, but there is always an answer.

Two minutes ago, while I was on the toilet seat — it’s true that your most brilliant ideas come from there, no shame — I thought about something. For the first time, I dared — yes, dared — to compare two of my passions.

As an exercise.

So I thought about writing, then I thought about photography. What do I like about them? What do I avoid and fear? What do I hate?

I wanted to see WHY I stopped myself from doing both.

Here’s my internal monologue:

There is safety in writing. There’s nobody watching you, nobody judging you, just you. You don’t have to worry about how you look or sound because there’s no visual and no sound. Nothing but words. You’re so good with words that you can paint yourself as anyone or make people forget that you exist.

You can deceive, distract, and embellish. It’s so easy.

But writing is lonely. Because you don’t SEE and HEAR what you write — except in your head — so you get the impression that you’re alone. All alone in a world of people connecting… far away from your writing place.

You’re missing out on something.

Photography, on the other hand, is naked. You get out in the street — or choose to do controlled shoots in a studio — and everybody SEES you. They HEAR your voice when you ask them what they want, when you direct them, even when you say an apologetic ‘hi’ on the street because they caught you shooting.

You get the feeling that everyone is watching you, and there’s nowhere to run, or hide, and there’s definitely no way to deceive or distract. What you do, who you are, it’s obvious, and you’re naked there with the camera.

It’s the scariest feeling in the world.

Looking at it now, I see what my problem is. I am afraid of being naked, but I am also afraid of being alone. I desperately try to mix together these passions or do them intermittently, just as long as I can feel safe throughout the process. And that is a MISTAKE.

As I write now I feel safe, but I am not happy. I have just broken up with someone, I don’t want to be alone, and yet, I’m feeding the feeling I want to kill off. But I want to move on, goddammit!

Why do I go along with it?

Because I don’t know anything else. Because I do what’s easy. Because instead of trying to heal, I try to hide out. Sure, I want to be safe right now, but I need to get out there and BE NAKED.

I need to feel nervous and connect with total strangers.

What you want is so often the easy way out, and what you need scares and excites you because it’s right, and hard.

So here I am, losing a battle I have fought a thousand times.

My fears control my actions, and I am ashamed of it. But at least I know that now, and I see what my passions can do to heal me.

So tomorrow, instead of writing I will grab my silly non-professional digital camera — a perfect reflection of me on most days — and get in people’s faces. I’ll let them see my loneliness, and they’ll alleviate it.

Just by seeing it, and validating it.

Hell, if I see one scared person, I’ll have proof that I am NOT alone.

That we are all writing when we should be taking pictures.