I’m a firm believer in two things:
1) Everybody has a story and 2) That story is inspiring
Here’s a good question, though: do we ever allow ourselves to be our own inspiration?
Oftentimes not. Whether we fear appearing self-righteous, undignified, egomaniacal (the list goes on…) – we are afraid to be our own fan club. Instead, we tend to rely on the encouragement and feedback of others to bolster pride and a sense of accomplishment.
Today’s thought: nuts to that.
Tonight – by complete happenstance – I re-discovered a series of journal entries I wrote at sixteen for my Psychology 30 class in high school. Here’s a true excerpt (errors and all):
School also allowed me to explore what has now become my passion in life: writing. I stillhave notebooks full of stories and what I thought was poetry, and today they serve as a sort of inspiration and milestone for where I started and how far I’ve come. Probably my greatest writing achievement, however, was when I received the ‘Writing Award’ at my elementary school graduation in June of 2000. I’ve kept that plaque in my room ever since (although it’s moved from my wall to my desk drawer) because it, to me, is proof that if I work hard enough, that seventh grade plaque could someday turn into a Pulitzer Prize.
Although I’m still holding out for that Pulitzer, I’m glad my sixteen-year old self gave me the round of applause I certainly needed.
So stop – right now – and give yourself a compliment for whatever craft you happen to be a master of. Writing, cooking, getting your kids bathed and in bed in under sixty minutes… they’re all accomplishments, and ones worth recognizing.
We aren’t creative because we have to be, but because we want to be.