When people encourage me to just keep going, give me tips on how long it takes to really get traction, and have faith in what I do it helps and it hurts. They don’t realize that my “overnight success” story has been over twenty years in the making. That each day I wake up with new challenges to face, goals to achieve and well, laundry to do. And even when I look back at the end of the day to see most of the things on my to do list done, there’s another to do list waiting. There doesn’t seem to be a reward for the accomplishments.
And yes, it’s good to keep busy, to continue taking those steps towards your dreams and to simply keep breathing (and my writing is my oxygen), I get that, it just nags at me sometimes. I thrive with deadlines, with expectations and clear goals and then, I wake and realize that while I accomplished those, I still need others to recognize it. I need readers to buy my books, then hopefully leave a good review. For the cheques to be delivered, for the fans to share and interact with me on social media and, yes, I realize now how it sounds like I’m whining and not appreciating those who do, they just all make me crave more.
The other day at my writing feedback group I was praised for my imagination (my tagline is Imagination Captured, if you remember), my ability to give a good critique and my pure encouragement for others trying to reach their carrot. It felt good, great even, and then I was back to the real world of non-creativity. When did the world get so obsessed with a regular shift, with facts and numbers versus play and creation? Tell me who are the Wright brothers, the Alexander Graham Bells and Einstein’s of today and how are they paying bills, getting sleep and changing the world?
While I feel I embody imagination through my typing fingers, I wonder what journey that will take me to next. After I finish this next shift, a few hours of sleep and the endless pile of laundry and stack of dishes…
What is your super power and how are you using it to change this world?
Thanks for reading,
Sarah Butland