A few months ago, a friend of mine sent me this. She knows that I have always dreamed of being a writer. And she knows that like most dreams, it gets shoved behind daily tasks and my job and my relationships. It ends up dead last in my priorities, even though at one point in my life it was first.
You have a dream in your back pocket, don’t you? Over the years, that dream has taken on many different names in your mind: Silly. Ridiculous. Hobby. Foolish. Impossible. Waste of time. You have called it that for so long, that you have never actually taken the time to consider how it got there in your pocket in the first place.
We throw trash away; we don’t put trash in our pockets. That dream is there because at one time, you saw that it had value. And so you tucked it away for safe-keeping. But doubt and fear have convinced you to keep it hidden, convinced you to rename that dream Wrong. What would it take for you to pull that dream out again, to stop taunting it with cruel names and to simply listen to what it has to say? No filters. No back talk. No eye rolls.
Dare to handle it, to hold it in your hands and consider it with kindness, with compassion, with (dare I say it?) goals. Are there tiny, itty-bitty baby steps you can take toward pursuing it? Can you at least pull it out of your pocket and hold it in your hand? Place it on the desk, maybe? (read the rest here)
Sometime in the last few months, I quit writing. I was so overwhelmed with life and work and daily stresses that for some reason I didn’t do the one thing that destresses me and makes sense of my emotions. I missed it. I suffered without it. Those months felt worthless. I felt worthless.
Then, about a month ago, I started writing again. Nothing fancy, nothing noteworthy, just writing in general. I’m writing about my childhood and a poem here and there and maybe a couple pages of fiction. Nothing noteworthy, but the dream is out of the pocket and onto the desk. No longer forgotten. My first tiny, itty-bitty baby step toward pursuing it.