If I could fly the "bullshit" flag up the pole on your behalf, I would. Did you have time to email? Post to Facebook? Share some photos on Instagram? Browse Pinterest? Text friends? Chat on the phone?
Then. You. Had. Time. To. Write.
Here's the thing. "If it was easy, it wouldn't be worth it." If you're going to pursue writing, singing, dance, or whatever big dream gnaws at your gut, then you have to want it bad enough to sacrifice something in return. The video in the link below is a visual confirmation of dedication and perseverance. Pay attention to the message filled with inspiration for anyone in pursuit of a dream.
"The wealthiest place on earth is the graveyard." Do you know how many awesome inventions, untold stories, unsung songs, or wonderful, yet unknown, ideas are buried there? How many dreams died with the souls who were afraid to even try? Is that what's going to happen to yours? Will your greatest mystery be the one buried with you because you didn't want it bad enough to write it?
But life, right now, is too hard -- too complicated. I'm emotionally spent and my creative well has run dry. Hear that BS flag rustling in the breeze? I'm afraid I'm not good enough. That no one will buy my books, listen to my songs ...
The safest way to make sure you don't fail, is to not even try to succeed.
My son is a sheriff deputy and a few years back he was selected for a coveted position as a sniper for S.W.A.T. A dream of his since childhood. This also meant undergoing a mind-bending, physically exhausting training aptly named "Hell Week." No sleep for days while being subjected to ruthless physical training exercises. At the top of the hill there hung a bell. If an officer reached his mental or physical breaking point and felt he could not go on, he rang the bell. No questions asked, or explanations given. You just rang the bell, gathered your things, and walked away. The bell rang several times, as one-by-one, officers gave up. My son walked to the bell twice, tears flooding his eyes, and prepared to relinquish his dream. Each time he tried to wrap his hands around the rope and sound his surrender, something inside him pushed him past the physical pain and emotional upheaval. As much as he hurt, as exhausted his body felt, he just couldn't betray his dream.
I've felt this way several times, especially over this past year, and at one point not too long ago, I decided "ringing the bell" was my best option. If you ask any writer they'll tell you they've thought about sounding the bell of surrender many times. But you have to push past the "pain" -- whatever that definition might be for you. In fact, you need to "embrace that pain and allow it to take you from where you are, to where you where you need to be." Turn that pain into greatness, and on those occasions you fall, and you will, make sure you land on your back because if you can look up, you can get up.
Say YES to life. YES to your dream. YES to you. Don't ring the bell. Ignite the fireworks instead. "Leave no dream behind."