My defining inner dialogue (since I was about 15) was that I wanted to be a writer. I may have been wrong.
And that, dear friends, is like walking around nekkid.
It was my dream job, but I never chased it – just mused about it and got frustrated. Everything was holding me back! I couldn’t be a writer because because because.
The last few days I’ve been paying attention to how I structured my life, what I enjoy doing, what I make time for, and writing isn’t one of them.
Maybe I’ve been wrong for 30 years.
So, my next experiment is to remove it from my head. Not a writer. Writing a novel/movie/kids book is not a goal of mine. That leaves a huge void, and I need to figure out what to fill it up with.
Kind of like an elimination diet, but in a mid-life crisis sort of way.