On Being Afraid

New year, new us, whatever.

I’ve not written much on here the last two years. There are a number of reasons for that, but the most important one is fear. I have faced enormous personal and professional upheaval as a result of my public writing — even though I would self-describe as having never really participated in the politics of personal destruction so many of my former colleagues in DC seemed to engage in for sport. In fact, you can see that this topic, grappling with what really happened to me, and trying to work through some of the aftermath of it, is a regular topic on this blog over the last year or so.

For a few months after the election of Donald Trump, I wrote profligately about what the election meant, how to understand it, and even what warning signs to look for as he consolidated power within the Republican Party, to see if there would be resistance or acquiescence to his rule-by-id. I’m not going to rehash any of that. But as I realized what was really happening, I got afraid, and deleted months of writing.

Part of the fear is quite well grounded. And the gut-feeling that something I write might come back and haunt me or deny my career any forward momentum still lingers on. I hope that, with time, the fear will also become lesser as well, and I’ll feel more comfortable to write a bit more about things, and not have that terror that I’m going to harm myself in the long run.

Oh well. Here’s to a more prolific 2019.