A couple of weeks ago, I ended up in the emergency department. It’s a long story, and the details are not really important to this story. What is significant is what I took from this moment in my life, actually 13 minutes of moments. That was how long I feared my heart would explode, I would pass out and never wake up again.
I had that whole life-flashing-before-your-eyes thing that people talk about. But it wasn’t just all the precious people in my life I feared never seeing again but it was also all the things I hadn’t done and not because I can’t. Things that I have been more than capable of doing and some that I could have done 30 times over by now… easy!
Most of the life-flashes were fleeting, but one really stuck out when it was all over, and I was well and truly STILL alive…
Yep, writing my goddam books.
And I do mean books – plural. I have a truckload of bloody good novels inside me, but I resist it time and time again.
The little doubter who hangs out in my brain is constantly shouting,
“But you’re not good enough.”
“You’ll never be an author.”
“You are going to upset people with what you write regardless that it’s fiction.”
“All the bad people/stories from your past will come back to haunt you.”
“Oh, look, there’s a butterfly.”
And by butterfly, I mean Facebook or a floor to mop or a new Netflix series to watch or another to-do-list to write – also known as procrastination or having a short attention span which is still procrastination, if we are honest with ourselves.
Now are you sick of hearing me talk this way about my writing? Good me too! I’m so sick of saying it!
I promised myself, PROMISED MYSELF, at that moment where I thought I wouldn’t survive, I promised that I wouldn’t wait any longer. I’d make a commitment. I’d finally do it. The ED visit had come as a warning! A warning that I won’t live forever. Which is the truest thing ever spoken. None of us will.
I know you’re tired. I know you’re busy. I know there is so much goddam ‘reality’ that throws mud in the path before you but isn’t it time? Time to stop playing small?
When we think of ourselves as a mother or a wife or a working mum. We think of ourselves as a stereotypical human being in whatever hat we put on ourselves. We become a mere mortal. Just a small part of this big wide world. BUT if you really, REALLY think about what and who we are isn’t it possible that there is SO MUCH MORE to us?!
Don’t we owe it to ourselves and to whatever created us to think big? Bigger than we can fathom. We are a part of a wondrous and powerful universe that creates miracles every single day. Every moment of every day. Surely fulfilling our dreams in our life on earth should be at the top of the list. We are the link in the chain. We are the bolt in the beam. We are a part of something so huge, which in itself makes us huge too.
So, this is my accountability post. I’m going big. I’m doing this for me. You should too.
What’s your ‘big’?