For the past few weeks, I have been working on a book. I have been fully immersed in my story.
It’s a story that has been waiting to be told for a very long while. It’s a story my heart wants to tell. More specifically, it’s a story my heart has been longing to tell, but just couldn’t.
I wasn’t brave enough. I’m still not as brave as I need to be, but I’m hoping that as my story unfolds, my courage will, too.
But for a while, the story was stuck. I had hit a dead end, with no where to turn and zero sense of direction.
After some encouragement from my husband and a long talk with a dear friend, fear lessened its grip and I began to think, and write and brainstorm. I delved deeply and really started to get dirty. I realized the importance of telling this story. And I decided to wholeheartedly “trust the process,” whatever that process was.
I had no idea what that process would look like. I think, if I had even an inkling that I would become a confused, chaotic mess who somehow thinks that sitting in front of the computer screen all day with only a few scribbled notes and an extra hundred words added to an already skimpy word document was progress, then I would have run like hell in the opposite direction.
This crap is hard!
This is nothing like my experience with writing my children’s book. That was easy. Well, not exactly easy, but definitely less arduous than this.
And what’s even crazier is the fact that I think I’m actually getting somewhere.
But you know what? I am. I am getting somewhere.
Even though, my mind never shuts off; notes are everywhere; I’m going in circles; I name and rename sections, and then name them again; New ideas and recalled memories wash over me at the most inopportune moments; I don’t want to move from my desk, and I am ready to attack anyone who interrupts me…even though I have become out-of-touch with all things reasonable, I feel accomplished. I’m making progress and I am strangely empowered.
And I like that!
I don’t know where my heart is going to lead me with the telling of its truths. But I do know that it will take longer than I once thought, be harder than I once thought and be more petrifying than I ever thought. And I’m ready for that.
My heart has a story to tell, and I’m finally ready to let it speak.