Recently a fellow writer asked what does it take to believe in yourself?
I wrote back that whatever it is, it’s inside, waiting to be remembered. She agreed.
Since then, I’ve been thinking about her main question, “What does it take to believe in yourself?” and I paired it with my idea of needing to remember it. As if it’s something easily found, such as where you left your keys. And I keep getting that idea ‘tickle’, like I’m onto something. So allow me to ponder this here.
What if it is that easy? What if you could ask yourself, ‘where did I leave that?’, and have it come back to you? Is it right there? Like the times you couldn’t find your sunglasses and they were resting on top of your head? Or is a bit deeper, like those old diaries hidden away, that never got unpacked? Until the day you needed to read a bit about the person who didn’t think their dreams were second to anything, and the world presented you with a situation that uncovered the box.
Write down non-sleep dreams, the dreams of writing moving stories, or creating art that touches people’s hearts, and then stop and think about how that will feel. Let that feeling grow, and everyday nurture it like a tiny sapling. Instead of thinking of it in the future tense, think of it as now. Soon, that feeling will overtake the box it’s been packed away in.
I’m so glad for that initial question, it’s led me down some interesting paths, past thinking and onto something deeper for myself. Later folks, I’ve got some unpacking to do.