I’ve been telling people since April that I am self-employed. Yet a part of me didn’t want to really believe that because self employed means you are the only one responsible for what happens to you and your career every day.

Even though I knew that, a part of me still didn’t want to be responsible for my outcome and so I never lived up to all the potential I had. Instead I’d hope that someone else would realise it for me.

Knowing that I was capable of doing more than I had been, I decided literally overnight to become committed to start doing all that I could. Committing to my goal of being published and working my ass off to get that way has changed everything for me. The long hours, the endless days, the constant learning and overcoming road blocks doesn’t paralyze me like it used to. Because of this effort, my writing has improved, my outlook is brighter, and opportunities are presenting themselves.

I’ve always held the belief that anything was possible but before it was in a naïve, dreamlike way. I used to think all you had to do was wish enough, complain enough or meet the right person to hand you your dream without having to do anything in return. Now I believe anything is possible in a real way by just simply committing to an idea or passion, giving it some effort and sticking it out with plain gut wrenching determination.

That little shift in seeing the same thing in a different way has allowed me to realise and begin to fulfil my potential. By not hesitating to accept the challenge of overcoming my fear I have been able to transform ideas into action. And that has created possibilities that wouldn’t have existed otherwise.

I read something by Johann Wolfgang von Goeth today that perfectly embodies what I’ve just realised over the past month:

“Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative and creation, there is one elementary truth the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, the providence moves too. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one’s favour all manner of unforeseen incidents, meetings and material assistance which no man could have dreamed would have come his way. Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it.”

Amen.

Is it Wednesday, Thursday or Friday? Or is it the weekend? Is it 8am or 8pm? If you had asked me that yesterday you would have been given just a blank look from me as I shrugged my shoulders. I’ve been living a haphazard life the past week or so that regular days with regular schedules didn’t mean that much.

I’ve been working overtime because of all that’s happening. Literally going to bed at 3am only to wake at 8am to begin a non-stop day. There’s just been so much to do.

I’ve been consumed with learning about publishing. There’s so much that I wasn’t aware of so I’ve been spending a lot of time trying to catch up so that I might at some point get ahead. So I’ve been reading a lot of books on the subject and then putting what I’ve learned to use with my book proposal.

I’ve had my Docent Class at the museum start back up and have been reading the terribly fat (but juicy) art book they assign while trying to get into the rhythm of going to a weekly class and all the events they have going on.

Also I’ve had websites to keep up to date, portfolios to work on and magazine articles to write. I checked my palm the other day and it was frighteningly full. I think August 21st was the first free day I could claim.

I’ve been enjoying it all so much that I never stopped to question if I should slow down and catch my breath. I didn’t think about it because I thought my enthusiasm and want would continue carrying me through each day.

And it did for the first few weeks. But after days of little sleep, forgetting to eat and not a moment of brain rest, my eyes had become heavy and dark and my brain became too clouded to make sense. I actually began to hinder my process because of stupid mistakes I was making from being tired.

So I tried to take breaks. I tried the true and tested remedy of having a sinfully rich bubble bath complete with Mr Bubbles and a cup of perfectly brewed tea. But when I laid my head back into the pillow with the intention of doing nothing more than listening to the bubbles pop, my brain began to work. Then I remembered that for some reason, I tend to have the most brilliant ideas in the bath of all places. And as they began to form I had to pop out of the tub and turn to the computer. I began to work all over again.

The next day I decided that I had to really take a break and get away from the computer. I thought a nice long walk to the café would bring me some fresh air and peace and quite as I walked along the lake and counted birds overhead. But the walk just made me feel energised and by the time I got to the café I had too many notes I had to scribble down. So I skipped the latte and opted for a glass of water at home as I typed out my thoughts.

I just haven’t been able to rest. Part of the reason I think is because I have been a little afraid that if I stopped even for a moment I would lose my momentum. I thought if I went to bed when I was tired, when I woke up I’d have no ambition to keep writing. For the first time since I began all this I felt like I was finally working on something concrete and important and I was scared that I might just give up on it and end up watching Oprah all day.

So instead of resting when I truly needed to, I just kept working. I lost all private moments and thoughts, I lost track of each day, I lost track of what was happening in my home and I think I even lost a little bit of me.

Then today I realised that at the exact moment I don’t think I can take a break is the exact moment I need to take one.

If I don’t I won’t reenergize myself or bring new light to what I’m working on. If I don’t I’ll hinder my progress by making those same silly mistakes I’ve been continuously making. If I don’t, I’ll forget the reason why I’m working so hard in the first place.

I think I forgot all that because working at home you don’t have a time clock to punch or an office to leave behind. Those 15-minute breaks I so viciously used to guard in my corporate world had become distant memories now that I worked from home. But I realised that I have to take them, even when I don’t think I can.

Doing that, I know that know won’t lose the momentum. I’m not the same person with the same intentions as last December. I’ve got my head on and it’s looking forward. Momentum, I think, is energy your brain wills. And I’ve proven I’ve got that even if I take eight hours to sleep.

For the past four days I have nothing but edit my book. I think I remembered to sleep once and eat twice, but everything else is a blur.

Editing and re-writing, I’ve learned, is a huge part of writing. Call me naive but I didn’t think before all of this that editing was all that crucial. I thought a great writer would get it one shot.

The articles that I had published were never really edited – at least not by me. I thought all I had to do was write just enough for people to get the gist of it and see it’s potential. Then I’d hand it off and someone else would make it brilliant. I thought I was just a writer, not an editor.

My eyes were opened when I went to hear the author SARK speak last year. She said that she always heavily edits and rewrites her book over and over before her editor even gets to see it. Then she said something that stunned me and made me feel stupid.

“You know, some people actually think I just sit down and write the whole book out in one big swoop. That it all just comes out that way!”

I know I did. Her books seemed so effortless, so personal, and so wonderful that I couldn’t imagine she had ever changed even just one word. I thought that because she was such a talented writer that the thoughts just flowed through her and she was able to capture them so eloquently onto paper the first time around. I didn’t think SARK or any other great writer ever edited.

I learned from her and others like her, that a good writer makes it seem like the words came out effortlessly the first time even though they really didn’t. Editing a piece of work is crucial; it’s what makes good writing great and great writing better.

With that knowledge I have been working hard by editing my work. Not just correcting the grammar and the odd spelling mistake, but really re-working the material and making it better. I’ve learned how to keep the passion and intention I had when I first wrote the piece while just articulating it more. My entries have taken on a whole new life with new meaning because I’ve brought so much more to it. I’ve brought effort and hard work to the page and I believe it shows.

My husband even noticed how much energy I’ve been putting into it all. “I’m not playing around anymore.” I said to him. “In order for any of this to be real and worthwhile, I have to step up and make it so.”

Since I stopped questioning myself as a writer I’ve been able to move forward at an alarming rate. I haven’t hesitated when confronted with having to try a new process or learn something new like editing. That’s why I’ve actually been extremely excited and energetic about editing rather than confused and overwhelmed. Not only do I know that I can make this better, I know that I will.

That’s what makes all the difference between something good I wrote four months ago and something great that will be in the book.

It is late and I should be sleeping – especially since I’ve been up all day working harder than Seattle rain. But I’m not; I’m far too busy making it real.

I’ve read from so many artists that if you have an idea the only way you can sell it is to make it real. Maybe you have a vision of the perfect thing, but others won’t be able to see it too unless you can make it real for them.

What I see is a book – My book.

I’ve had the idea floating around in my brain for several months about turning all of this into some kind of book. People have been long advising me that I should but I have been really hesitant about doing it. All I saw was a little website and not a book. However, over the past month, as more people have mentioned the idea to me and as the website has taken on a life of it’s own, I have decided that it might actually be a good idea. The only thing I wasn’t sure of was how to turn a website, an idea, into a book?

I assure you after many days surfing the web and visiting the library, there is no one stop shopping to getting a book published. I’ve learned from studying all the information that it takes more than an idea to get a book published. There is editing your piece and then editing some more. Then you have to write a proposal, type up a bio, and be able to sell yourself and your idea. Then you need to find an agent or a publishing house to send it all into. Then you have to cross your fingers and wait. And wait. And wait.

That information I learned from various websites and books. It is good, practical and useful information. The only part they left out was that you need to make the idea real. That part I learned from various artists who have published or sold works of art.

Making an idea physically real has been the tricky part because I had no idea how to turn this website into a book. What should it look like, what size should the pages be, what kind of font do I use, how do I bind it? What entries should I use, how do I edit them some more, how do I make them into a book? I became frustrated because I knew that if I couldn’t see this website as a book nobody else would be able to either.

“I’m a writer and not a designer!” I yelled, “Putting books together is a publishers job, not mine! Let them figure it out.” I thought about just giving up and just cutting and pasting everything on the website into one big word file, submitting that to a publisher and take my chances.

That train of thought didn’t last very long. I remembered getting boring bits of information or incomplete proposals on my desk when I worked in the corporate world, and if it didn’t look right or seem interesting I’d just toss it into the bin along with all the other rubbish. I didn’t want that to happen to my book and realised that if I want someone to see why this would be a fabulous book, I have to actually show them a fabulous book.

Instead of remaining frustrated I decided to continue to work on making it real. I pulled entries from the site, fixed them up, corrected typos and grammar, added images and more entries. I made it all look professional by choosing fonts and spacing in Microsoft Word. Then on blank pieces of paper I made a mock up of the book design I wanted and then began to incorporate that design into the Word file. About half way into creating this book, something very scary and amazing happened.

I went from thinking that maybe the website could be a book, to knowing it will become a book.

A bold statement that could come back to haunt me, I know, but at the same time I was making it real for them, it was actually becoming more real for myself. I went from being hopeful that maybe this could be a book if someone had the right vision to actually knowing that this is a book because I just made the vision happen.

Of course, I still have to find a publisher or agent, still have to write proposals and all the business bits that go along with it all. But I took the first step; I took charge, and made something. It’s not an idea sitting in my brain anymore. It’s now becoming a real book sitting in my hands.

For the most part the reactions I receive from people who read about my journey are positive and extremely supportive.

However there is the odd skeptic out there, the ones that say, “Well, if I had a rich husband I could do it too!” I usually think, “If I had a rich husband, I would have started a lot sooner!”

The fact is I am not, nor have I ever been, “rich.” I don’t have a huge savings account, my husband isn’t a millionaire or even close, and I’ve never gone one day without checking my bank balance – even when I had a steady paying job.

When I made the decision to leave my corporate job, it was with great trepidation because money was an issue. We lived very modestly with our two incomes and I was scared to think how much more modest we could be on one. Things had to become tighter, however, when my income was gone.

That meant we had to really figure out what was important to us and what it really took financially to live each day. How modest do we live? We have only one 7-year-old car, one 800 square foot apartment with very simple furnishings. No DVD player or entertainment unit, just a simple little TV without cable. No stereo, which saves money on CD’s. We don’t buy new clothes unless some thing’s become too shabby and yes, I did wear this shirt two days ago. My obsession with lipstick and bath salts? Cured. We allow ourselves a date once a week, which means a dinner at a local restaurant, budgeted for thirty dollars. This had helped me to learn to cook, cheaply. Microsoft Money is our new best friend. Everything is budgeted and if it’s not, we think twice. No use of credit cards, which keeps us out of debt. If we can’t pay cash, we don’t get it.

Balancing everything on one modest income is not easy, I assure you, but it is possible.

The upside is that I am doing what I love to do and that somehow makes budgeting worth it. I get more satisfaction out of writing something that affects someone than I ever did from a trip to the mall. I’m hoping that by doing what I’m doing I will at some point start to get an income. I am trying to be patient in the meantime as I “pay my dues” and learn the ropes. Just because you live out your dream doesn’t mean you’ll have overnight success and that everything will be easy. It takes a lot of work and time to figure it all out.

I realise that I am in a sense lucky because there is one income coming in at least. A lot of people who want to do what I’m doing don’t have that luxury. I truly believe however, that you can still have a fulltime job to pay the bills and a part time job doing whatever you want to do.

I once wrote about this artist I knew who had critical acclaim for his artwork and had many shows around the world. The interesting thing about this man was that he put in 40-hour weeks on the floor of a manufacturing plant. He worked that job to pay the bills and feed his family. He painted on all his time off to feed his soul. A lot of work, yes, but he did it. He never complained, he never worried about the lack of time, he never felt sorry for himself having to work during the day, never one excuse. He just did what he could do when he could do it.

On a much smaller scale is my husband who is learning the guitar and wants nothing more than to spend all day creating and playing music. Right now it’s not practical for him to do that so he puts in 50-hour workweeks at his current job to support him, his school, my career and myself. But once a week he goes to his 1/2hr guitar lesson and every night for 1/2hr he takes the time to play. Maybe it’s not as much time as he’d like, but it is time he takes. It’s a start rather than a want just stuck in his head.

The one thing I’ve learned is if there is something you want to do, do it. Don’t wait. Figure out how to begin now. If what you want to do isn’t entirely feasible, make a compromise and do what you’re able. Dreams come in all shapes and sizes and forms. Living yours doesn’t have to be a big leap like the one I took. It can be simply starting small by painting in the evening. And one day perhaps the situation will change when painting all day is what you get to do.

I’ve never reflected on the previous year when New Years comes around because before each year was just there. Sometimes there were grand adventures and sometimes there were just months filled with boring, everyday days. But this year, this year something happened.

I acted for myself.

This time last year I would never have thought that I would have gone out on my own and become a freelance writer. Last January that wasn’t in the cards. Working to help support my family and help put Chris through school was. I was counting down the days until my raise and I was listing all my accomplishments at my corporate job. I was also feeling anxious, depressed and for the first time in my life, a little regret. Regret that I had wasted two years and would keep wasting more.

However in April the situation changed. I changed. I took the first step and believed in myself just enough to get me to listen to my heart. That one step has turned into the biggest, scariest, most beautiful and rewarding journey of my life thus far. It also allowed me to get back to being the person I was before I hid it in suits and 8am meetings.

It has also taught me a great deal. I’ve learned so much from all of this, more than any trip overseas, time in a classroom, or book riled with wisdom.

I learned to act for myself and do as I needed. I learned that no matter how scared I am that I can move forward. I learned to have patience. I learned that just because you have a dream, doesn’t mean living it is easy. I learned that nothing is handed to you, you have to work at it. If it is handed to you, you still have to work at it to maintain it. I learned to ask for help and advice. I learned that being scared is not only OK, but normal. I learned that I am capable of so much more than I ever thought possible. I learned that my 5th grade teacher was wrong. I learned to accept frustration is a part of life, but not a deterrent. I learned to stop questioning myself so much. I learned to quiet the voices of those that don’t understand or believe. I learned to raise the voices of those who do. I learned that nothing happens over night, but if you keep trying, it does happen. I learned that if one way doesn’t work, another will. I learned to live from the heart. I learned that I am vulnerable but also strong and brave. I learned that nothing makes me happier than knowing I live each day doing what I am meant to do. I learned to do as much as I can each day. I learned to replace the word “failure” with the phrase “it just didn’t work out.” I learned that tea really is a godsend at 4pm. I learned to feel proud. I learned that I am not the only one who has gone through this or will go through this. Above all, I learned to never waste one moment ever again.

This year has changed me in ways I wouldn’t have imagined last January. I feel there has been some amazing groundwork laid and that for 2002 and now I can really focus on the work of writing, because most of the mental work of shifting gears is out of the way.

Here’s to 2002.