Recently, it has come to my attention a single line that gets repeated in some of the short biographies that are usually printed at the back of the books, in regards to the author. The sentence goes something like this: …until she/he decided to leave their job and write full-time…
They left what they were doing to write full-time.
Full-time.
That’s when it hit me: I realized that I could do this right now: write full-time. I don’t need to wait for a distant future. I can do it now. With commitment. Without economical worries or pressures, at least not very urgent ones.
Write with more presence. More consciousness.
It might sound stupid that I hadn’t realized something like this sooner, but I’m always worrying about the future; about what I should do and what I should be doing (not to mention worrying about dying but that’s a different story), and sometimes it feels like this time in my life is just a bridge made of waiting I must cross to reach something else. What is that something else? I have no idea.
So now the question is: why haven’t I done it? What’s holding me back?
Fear of failure? Fear of success?
…Does it matter?
The real question is: Am I going to do it?
I don’t know why but this decision feels like I’m standing on the edge of some abyss, feeling the wind flapping against my face and clothes, until the wind dies and the world seems to hold its breath, waiting to see if I’ll take a leap of faith…
Will I?
