One night, a few weeks later, while sitting alone in my apartment, I said to myself, “I can’t visualize my life, going forward; but also- I can’t imagine going back.”
A few days later, I met Craig.
A year ago, I walked out on a profession I had spent 15 years building.
With no plan.
I sat with the uncertainty. I faced all the fears. I melted into the sadness. And then one night, I said, “I’m a writer.”
I called a grant writer I happened to know and I said- I need you to help me get to where you are.
This led to a second opportunity. This time I busted through the door for the interview, placed my hand on my heart, and said, “Writing is my art.”
A week later she called me and said- Come back here and help us do this thing.
Late Wednesday afternoon, a VP I didn’t know looked at me during the middle of a meeting, and said, “So. I’ve heard you’re a writer.”
I swallowed the excess saliva that had overcome my mouth, sat up in my chair, and said, “Yes. What do you need done.”
Don’t give up on your journey just because you keep falling off the train and your shoelaces are caught on the track.
Follow the trail of bread crumbs home.