Tag: following your dreams

Small Successes are the Biggest Battles

Some days you have to celebrate the small successes, those little moments when you feel like you are simply treading water instead of going anywhere significant. Some days I feel like a rock star, taking giant leaps in the direction of my dreams, other days a tiny nudge is the closest I will get towards moving in the right direction. It’s okay to have these days. If all you have left in you is the ability to stand your ground when it feels like the current is threatening to pull you backwards- that is still a success. Some days, the best thing that you can do for yourself is hold still and let the storms pass.

Today was a day of small steps. After a long week, it feels good to just sit here with my laptop and a blanket. I don’t feel like I’m on my A-game right now, but I’m also not feeling too guilty about that either. Today I didn’t leap forward, there was no kicking ass or taking names. Today I simply scooted a bit closer to my goals. We put so much pressure on ourselves to be the best, to push the farthest, to work hard now so that we can play hard later. We fight so hard for our productive time that we never slow down and take a breath. Refresh yourself, take a break, you are only human after all.

So today I will celebrate writing a post. I will dance for joy because the laundry is finally in the dryer (now whether I get around to folding it will be another story. Spoiler- probably wont be happening before I go to bed). I will tout my success because I typed another page when it took everything I had inside to string one word after another. The fight doesn’t have to be large and earth-shattering to still be a struggle. I may be hanging on by my fingertips some days, but I am still hanging on. So for those of you out on this branch with me- cheers, my friends. We can do it.

Cheers to Facing Fears

Bottoms up, my friends, and welcome to my personal niche out here in the interwebs. Can I let you in on a little secret? This terrifies me. Ironic, isn’t it? A writer who is petrified to let others read her work. Always so quick to snap down the lid of the laptop or toss the ink stained page back into it’s binder anytime I think someone has attempted to sneak a peek at my work in progress. And let’s not forget the death glare and eyes shooting daggers that would send even Jamie Lanister running for his mother.  Yes, I am well aware of how ridiculous I sound. It’s like a sky-diver who’s afraid of heights, a baker who’s deathly allergic to sugar. I could go on, but I’ll save you my exhaustive list of analogies.

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Right now you are probably wondering what could have possibly possessed me to go against everything in my nature and send my words out into the ether for anyone to find? Simply put- it was time. I was sick of waiting for that illusive ‘someday.’ I’ve wanted to be a writer for as long as I could remember, it was a given- that was my calling in life. But the funny thing is, the rest of the world didn’t seem to get the message. When I stepped out my front door to face my future, the literary road was not laid out and waiting for me to come dancing along with a song on my lips like Dorothy and her Yellow Brick Road. No, the road outside continued to look suspiciously like ordinary asphalt. That didn’t matter, I told myself, I was still young- I could use the time to hone my skills, learn what made the greats so astounding. After all, what was a writer without a few scrapes and experiences to color their work?

So I went out into the big bad world and soaked up all that I could with my modest income. Actually, I went out into the world and found myself an adult job- one I grew to love. I work in the court system, and I have to say- I can’t make up the kinds of stories I hear there. It is something new and exciting every day. But every night I would still come home and carve out some time to invest in my passion, clickity-clacking away at my keyboard like my very soul depended on it. Any maybe it did- if I didn’t write, that fire inside would consume me.

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Naturally, when I decided that it was time to start taking my work more seriously- the research ensued. And, as it turns out (ready for a real bombshell)- if you want to stand a chance at publication in the modern world you need a blog. Feel free to swoon dramatically, I nearly did. That was when I had to ask myself a question- how far am I willing to go to chase that dusty old dream? The answer was simple- as far as I had to. Even doing something as crazy as starting the daunting blog. Here I was, staring up my at my figurative Everest, wondering how I could possibly learn to feel like I wasn’t just winging it every day.

Enter Tipsy Typer.

I’ll spare you the mundane and surprisingly frustrating story that is the search for an adequate blog name someone else hasn’t already scooped up. Curses to those who came up with my ideas a year before they ever found their way into my head. Okay, kudos for jumping out on that limb long before I found my own wings- but still- a few curses. Little ones. Okay, I’ll still read your own damnably clever blog.

This cozy little home of mine is the first step, and after all is said and done, I have to say I am exhilarated to actually be doing it. I’m not going to pretend that I have this whole writing thing figured out- in fact, this blog will mostly be about my own journey trying to navigate this complicated little ecosystem we seem to have. I’ll make mistakes- but perhaps I can stop others from repeating them. This will also be a place for those odds and ends I find in my research, it will be a testament to the daily happenings that shape my work- after all, inspiration comes from the most unlikely of places.

So cheers, my friends, here is to facing our fears. May we help each other climb many more mountains along the way. If there is anything that life has taught me, it’s that the things you are most afraid of have the most to offer you in the end. It’s time to be brave.