Let’s start with the good news
You’re here.
Probably because you’re not sure whether you’re holding back as a writer or not.
So let’s help you get clarity about this.
Here’s how you can tell.
Do you wake up every morning and leap out of bed—maybe even getting out of bed before you wake up—because you can’t wait to start writing?
If the answer is NO, then you’re ready for the bad news.
You’re letting fear run your life.
Not just as a writer, but as a person.
You may know the saying, “How you do anything is how you do everything.” Well, how you approach writing is also how you approach living.
Trying to become the author you can be without becoming the person you can be is just not possible. And if you’re spending money on writing courses that are teaching you things like how to find your voice and how to come up with ideas for things to write about—you’re throwing your money away.
The same way anyone who is trying to lose weight is throwing their money away on products that claim to get rid of belly fat.
You can’t spot-fix human parts.
You have to upscale the entire human organism if you want a result in a particular area. You’ll have to lose weight EVERYWHERE to lose belly fat. Just like you’ll have to rise above fear EVERYWHERE in your life if you want to be the writer you can be.
So yes. You are holding back as an author. But this isn’t personal to you. That’s an important distinction to make.
We’re ALL holding back.
Because there’s no top end and no final point of achievement regarding the necessity to grant a bigger YES to life.
Each and every day.
No top end
I had a writing mentor for many years who was a huge advocate of using writing as a vehicle for spiritual development. One of his favorite maxims was,
“If it’s not written down, it didn’t happen.” —Anonymous
He once asked me to travel with him and take notes of meetings he had arranged with a number of his colleagues over a ten-day period in southern California. He regularly traveled to meet contemporary artists, authors, and spiritual teachers as a way of enriching his own capacity to transmit the art of living and to expose his students to other exceptional teachers.
I went with him to document the trip—watching, listening, and note-taking as we went.
After we returned I went into a writing retreat and spent a solid week knocking out an in-depth, no-holds-barred account of the trip, taking seriously my assignment to capture both the mood and the substance of the meetings, as well as all the traveling moments in between. The “in between” moments were sometimes more potent than the meetings themselves; dripping with the kind of active life-force that radiated from my teacher most of the time.
Once finished, I remember delivering the 125-page chronicle—him accepting it with a smile, and going immediately to his desk to review it.
This was his way of doing things. He was like a short-order cook standing in front of a perpetually hot grill. If something needed to be cooked, he was prepared to make good on the order in a matter of minutes. He lived like that. Following the way of now. And even with 250 students around the world, whose lives he paid close attention to, he always seemed able to attend to things now.
About an hour later he came to find me, and returned the manuscript with the same smile. When no words were forthcoming I asked him, “How did you like it?”
I distinctly remember the enthusiasm with which he said, “Not over the top yet, baby!”
“Not over the top yet, baby!”
That phrase summarizes his entire context as a guide. It was the light he consistently shined on the path of becoming human. It’s what he wanted from all of his students, all the time—to go over the top.
But over the top of what, we all wondered?
I eventually realized it didn’t matter, because that question was no more answerable than it was attainable. “Over the top” just meant over the top of being run by fear, hesitation, doubt, and the dilemma of personal drama. It meant living fully. Over the top was an action verb for him, not a distant destination he wanted any of us to pursue or even reach.
In that circumstance, my writing did not convey the being of someone who was living over the top.
How to get over the top
Now that we’ve clarified that there’s no where to get, we can talk about how we conduct our present lives.
To activate an “over the top” life, I’m sorry to say, you’ll have to do the things that scare you.
You’ll have to go to the places you’ve been avoiding—externally and internally.
Do you hate loud concerts? Maybe it’s time to try one again.
Do you gag at the thought of downing an oyster? It’s not gonna kill you.
Do you keep intimacy at arm’s length with your busyness and your devices? Unplugging is just one yank of the cord.
Are you scared that your idea for an article will reveal something about you that’s too personal? The “write a story” button is just inches away.
You get the idea.
The people you want reading your stuff are not looking for words that will only reinforce the same energetic prison they’re already living inside of. They want your help to get out. And the only way you can provide that help is if you “out” yourself first.
At this point, there might be a voice inside of you that’s asking, “But how do I do that?”
The truth is, no one can tell you.
Because no one else knows what life circumstances you’re running away from. No one but you knows what relationships you’re playing it safe with. No one but you knows what emotions you keep stuffing down instead of feeling.
Only you.
If you’re willing to start by slowing down, tuning in, and admitting to yourself what it is that you’ve been pushing out of your attention—and then move toward that holy shadow somehow instead—you’ll have begun the journey to over the top.
I opened doors this week to Write Hearted.
Write Hearted is a small, passionate writing community dedicated to raising the visibility of intelligent and authentic human voices on Substack. I’m looking for writers who want to help humanity keep its head above water in a sea of automation, distraction, and disconnection. If this sounds like you, I’d love to support you to have the best writing year of your life in 2025.
We’re already currently half full, with limited spots available. You can apply here, or, if you have questions about the community schedule a time with me to chat.
My first reaction to your essay, Rick, was "Ouch."
My second reaction to your essay was "OUCH!!!!"
Dammit, that hurts. Because it's true.
"How you do anything is how you do everything" certainly applies to, well, everything. And I've let fear take control of my (marked lack of) writing for as long as I can spell.
A few examples:
"I don't know what to write." --> Fear
"I'm really a writing impostor." --> Fear
"My stories aren't that interesting." --> Fear
"I don't have the time to write." --> Fear (and absolute nonsense...)
Sadly, fear applies to virtually every aspect of my life, and one of the reasons I joined Write Hearted (highly recommended!!) is to address the far-reaching, all-encompassing (and regularly paralyzing) fear that has been THE THEME of my 66 years (and five days) here on Planet Earth.
So thank you for the painful reminder. The truth hurts...
The people you want reading your stuff are not looking for words that will only reinforce the same energetic prison they’re already living inside of. They want your help to get out. And the only way you can provide that help is if you “out” yourself first.
Lots to ponder on here, Rick. Really enjoyed that (after struggling to wrangle a piece for most of the weekend 😅)