[I wrote this post as a member of the Insecure Writer’s Support Group where we share our worries and also offer support and encouragement to each other on the first Wednesday of every month. If you’re a writer like me and you’re looking for a bit of support, you can click the link and sign up here]

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This month, I’m thinking about passion. My son sparked the topic. And the story goes something along the lines as this…

“I can’t do it.”

“It’s too hard.”

“Can I be done yet?”

Familiar comments I’ve heard my 7-year old son say more times out loud than I can count on both hands and feet.  From spelling, to pressure point lessons in karate, to memorizing piano stanzas, even triple digit subtraction problems he’s learning about in second grade.

“When can I be done?” He asks me, with those big brown pleading eyes.

I always stop and take a breath. I make eye contact. “Why?” I ask.

“Because, it’s hard mom.”

I remember the first moment we talked about it. I knew his fears were getting the best of him. He’s a perfectionist like me. He worries like me. And at times he’s more concerned in how everyone else is getting along with each other, than with him. My stance is consistent. It’s always something along the lines as, “Everything you start is challenging. You start it, it feels hard because it’s new, then you practice, and you practice some more. Suddenly it gets easier. Then something else harder comes along and you work some more.”

This spring he’s asked to play baseball. Inside, I was secretly cartwheeling. I encourage sports. I think it teaches teamwork, communication, and how we all have our strengths to share. And the fact that he asked to play this spring let me know something about the sport triggered a desire, a possible passion.

His first baseball practice came and went. I sat outside the fence in the grass watching the roaring wind blow dirt in his face. He ran the field, did push ups, jumping jacks and met each grounder with a little more stopping power.

A day passed. I picked him up from school and asked him, “Did you like your first practice?”

His eyes lit up. He said, “I loved it.”

‘What did you love the most?”

He said, “What the coaches taught me in practice. I liked learning all of those things.”

For once, he didn’t say, “Mom, it’s too hard. I can’t do it.” He said, “Mom, I love it.”

My son inspired me this week. Then I found these great words, toodling (not sure it’s a word) around on pinterest. I couldn’t find a quoted source, so I popped the words into a photo my fiance captured.

They seemed perfect. As a writer, I’ve had people tell me, what I want is almost too hard to do. True, I don’t have all the time in the world. Life gets away from me at times.

But also true is this:

What if the hard stuff makes you feel more alive?

Then I wonder, can you picture your life without it?

I can’t.

So that’s my post for today. I don’t really have a question, unless you’d like to share you’re turning point, that moment you knew writing made you feel so alive.

My words of encouragement are to just go for it. Do it at your pace, your time. And never let the words of others deter you from your own perfect path.

Before I go, I want to say thank you also, to this April’s Co-Hosts:
Megan Morgan
Christopher D. Votey
Viola Fury
Christine Rains
Madeline Mora-Summonte
L.G. Keltner
Patricia Lynne
Rachna Chhabria