Summary: I was talking with my sister recently about a creative project I'd been wrestling with for weeks. It was an assemblage of short stories set in an imaginary town like the one where I grew up, and the thought of beginning real work on it made me anxious. Until that time I'd only admitted my fear to a dog-eared page in the back of my journal. Naming it out loud was another thing in itself. I've been worried about how you'll see me if I tell these stories the way I need to, I said. She seemed surprised to hear it, even as she asked me to explain. An hour later, after sharing my concerns about the disapproval I feared from family and friends, she informed me that I was the only one afraid of what I wanted to say. If you don't tell it the way you need to, she said, then it won't get told. Nobody's ever doubted whether you could do this, but it looks like you're the last one to see it. Vision requires the ability to look beyond the obvious, especially when the facts as we see them don't appear to support our goals. The other thing about vision: even though they're non-transferrable, we're not the only ones who hold visions for ourselves. Friends, family, peers, colleagues, and possibly everyone we meet have images of us that can impact the way we see ourselves—and, consequently, our potential. It works the other way around, too; we're also invested at some level in the visions (aka biases/impressions/judgments) we have of others. The more I was able to peel back my fears with my sister, the more clearly she was able to see me, too. Even better: the act of our sharing helped me update an old picture I'd been carrying around about her, the rest of my siblings, and the way we'd always related to each other. Letting people see us as ourselves takes courage—and practice. It can feel blurry and vulnerable when we show up unguarded and unsure of how we'll be perceived. It's our heart on the line, after all. Riskier still: clinging to old impressions that leave us too fearful to realize our own vision. I was reminded of an important lesson during that conversation with my sister. The great poet and activist Audre Lorde summarizes it like this: When I dare to use my strength in the service of my vision, then it becomes less and less important whether I am afraid.
