So you want to know some ways of building confidence and self esteem. That’s easy. Just do this writing exercise. It’s a seriously awesome way of building confidence and self esteem.
Remember: this is a stream-of-consciousness piece so has not been edited in any way (spelling / grammar). Nor is this intended to be an entertaining story. The reason for writing it is to force one’s mind to create positive situations out of their present state in order to help with building self confidence.
In writing the following, I was forced to imagine a great many ways in which the story could progress through our three stages. Again, these three stages are
1) Leaving Present state
2) Realising oneself
3) Becoming hero (positive ending)
A “building self confidence” stream of consciousness piece, by Paul Harrison.
It was strange how the memories of days of joy now resounded in his mind like the screeching of a knife on metal, that agonising sound no normal man can stand, that sound that tears your head to shreds. Glorious days they had been. He’d acted. Day in, day out, he had acted. He hadn’t acted upon the grandest of stages. There shall be no Nationals nor Her Majesty’s here, no, his stages were the streets.Edinburgh,Oxford,London, the streets of his country,England. He’s made life happen on those streets. He’d made girls whistle, old people cheer, children cry. He’d seen so much emotion, enough to last a life. And now it all came back, like a twisted echo returing to him through some dark tunnel.
Where had it all gone? He’d promised himself that he would act all his life. He would fill the life of others with love and cheer and drama and stories that sparked the imagination. That was him. The actor. That was him. But this day he just sat gazing out the window wondering where the life had gone. It had been sucked up into some greedy vacuum. It was lost. Vanished. But it had to be there somewhere, didn’t it?
There were no stages on the village streets, just a road perpetually winding onwards to places where some folk might meet, not like here. Here was quiet. Here was empty.
[Finding himself — self realisation]
He wondered what would happen were he to just leave the house and follow that ever winding street like Dorothy. Would he meet a tinman, a scarecrow and a lion? Would he click two out-of –place pretty red heels together and float off back home at the end? Even if he ended up eating the apple and sleeping in grass fields forever, it would not be so bad. He imagine he were Dorothy and clicked his heels together, got up and stretched.
Dorothy. She was one hell of a character. He;d have played her if he were a woman. He would have danced all day and sung sadly of a rainbow and followed a golden road winding ever onwards. He could feel the road beneath his feet as his feet walked slowly and shyly along it. Had he forgotten he was supposed to be at home looking out the window meditatively? Now he was walking in the shoes of Dorothy down the road he had always gazed down upon.
All was quiet. There was no rainbow, nor a lion, nor a tin man, nor a scarecrow. The only person was a homeless man sitting on a seat with his head buried in an old newspaper page.
[Becoming a hero]
The homelessman looked up through tired eyes. “Change?” he called, clearing his throat after. “Any spare change?” His eyes were clouded with sadness, as though the wicked witch had just sent those weird-ass monkey creatures into the sky to do evil. And there was the rumbling of clouds above.
Rain started to poor down upon the homeless man and the man who was pretending to be Dorothy.
“We must get in from this rain,” he said.
“Oh, it’s just rain,” said the homeless man.
“I don;t know how you take it all the time, my friend.”
“Heh. I don’t care ‘bout no rain. I just wish I’d some company for some time. Maybe a song on a radio. You know, the simple pleasures. I reckon aint nothing more important than just the simple pleasures that get ya through.”
Remembering Dorothy and all the fun and adventure she’d had just by letting a tin man a scarecrow and a lion share the road with her, the man said, “Well, I’m just walking down this road.” he indicated down the road. “You could walk with me if you like.”
The homeless man looked up at him as though he’d done him some great favour just by letting him walk with him. “Well, I’ll take the company, even if I can’t have the song.”
“You can have both,” said the actor. “I used to be an actor.” he stuttered in confusion. “I am an actor.”
“Then act like it!” the homeless man laughed.
It had been meant as a joke, but the actor looked deep into the homeless man’s tired eyes as though he’d just heard the most precious secret. Act like it, he thought to himself, smiling knowingly. And with that, the actor and the homeless man followed that long winding road together, not knowing where it led, but enjoying the journey and singing as they went.
Okay, so there we are. Certainly no masterpiece, but the idea here is to just WRITE. The quality of the writing does not matter because we are not writing in order to be read, we are writing to let thoughts out, and to train our brain and our imaginations to think along a positive road, not a sad one. So, just begin writing and carry the story along those 3 steps we discussed earlier. This forces you to think of a thousand ways in which one might go from feeling low to realising their worth to being happy, and should you continue practising this exercise frequently, you will find that you will naturally be building self confidence just from the way you think.
Honestly, this idea might seem alternative. But it is the best way of building confidence and self esteem. Try it now.
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