It is in your morning run, on this day in the rain. Where your idea comes from the woods on the trail because your mind was silent and you were listening.
It is in the way you show up, every day, writing down your goals for the week and ticking them all off your list, one by one. Undeterred by the fact that your readership numbers are up or down or nowhere.
It is in these very days that blur by with equal parts fear and joy; doubt and confidence. You remain relentless, driven and focused.
Do the work you came here to do.
It is in you.
(And how awesome is that?)
I choose perseverance. Every time. It’s in me.
I held onto my secrets for years. Decades, actually. And there are many reasons why. Reasons that anyone who has endured it — lived it — will understand. But only those who have endured it — lived it — will.
I’m writing this for everyone else.
I love you, but I’ve got to let you go.
Each time our paths cross I open my heart with renewed hope that it will be different somehow. And each time I walk away feeling empty.
My dear (____________), I realize now that at some point, I gave away my power to you. I was rebuilding my life, creating it piece by piece, and in all of its uncertainty and tender roots, I shyly let a chosen few in to tread softly and take a peek. I wanted to share my trepidation and fear and doubt and exhilaration and sheer anticipation with you. So I gave you permission to validate me. In no small way I longed for it. But it never came.