I've gained four pounds this week. What's the big deal, right? Four pounds is nothing really in the scheme of things. The big deal is, I realized that I'm eating instead of writing. An excuse not to start right this minute but wait just a little longer. I tell myself, "I'll just get a little snack first."
I had to ask myself, why is this happening? A) Because I don't want to waddle anymore than I already do and B) because I really do want to write.
"Why do you do it?" I asked myself. My answer wasn't easy to find. Honestly, I'm afraid. Afraid it will be horrible, afraid it will be good and I will not be able to re-create it. Afraid I'm not "enough".
I suppose when you dream something day in and day out you start to fall in love with the dream. You can't bear that the dream be shattered by failure. At least, I can't. But I realized something else standing there on my scale. I realized that my dream can't come true without failure. Failure is my friend. It means I'm trying to reach my goal, not just waiting for someone else to wave their magic wand. Not saying I would kick my fairy godmother for a little wand waving but in the end it's me who has to fail.
Did you know NASA only had a 39% success rate before humans reached the moon? Maybe we writers should take a page from their book.
