I recently returned from a trip to the United States. It was three weeks of constant movement.
In the time I was away, I traveled through six states, five major US cities, two major Argentine towns, and more than ten thousand miles from my Salta home to Brooklyn, my old home.
During that same time:
A 20-year-old gunman attempted to shoot former President Trump’s life.
President Biden stepped down from his candidacy and endorsed Kamala Harris.
The first woman of color was named a candidate for president in the United States.
While forward movement on your life goals is wonderful, the frenetic movement of the world has been disorienting.
When does it stop? When do things calm down? When does the swaying between what you want, what you need, and what you have to do slow down enough to make sense?
It happens when you decide it happens. Although yes, that’s easier said than done.
You slow down when you decide it needs to happen.
Deep breaths.
Show gratitude.
Meditate.
Exercise.
Recognize your wins.
*Take a break. *
Do something to celebrate.
Spend time with people you love.
Take a walk outside.
Focus on your plan and vision.
All of these are actions we take in The Inspired Writer Community, my tight-knit community for writers who want to build their ideal writing lives. They allow your brain to stop spinning and your body eases into your physical space. They remind you that you deserve to eat well, stretch long, and spend time with people and pets who love you.
Once I decided to slow down from the movement of this trip, one thing became abundantly clear. I would not want to live in Brooklyn again. I’m thrilled to see the people I love and experience the city that was once my daily backdrop, but Brooklyn isn’t for me. Not anymore.
I didn’t have a writing roadmap yet in 2007. I only knew I wanted to leave Brooklyn for more space – figuratively and literally. I wanted to write more and continue teaching.
When we left Brooklyn in 2007, there was no way I could have envisioned my current life because I didn’t yet know what was possible. The small steps I took to leave Brooklyn, start a writing community, and write books added to something bigger.
Looking back, I know with absolute certainty the choices I made fifteen years ago were correct. My end game in 2007 was to end up exactly where I am now.
I didn’t know that when I took my first step. In fact, I was petrified.
It’s impossible to have full clarity when you look forward to the future. Even if you know your end game, you’ll doubt the path. You’ll make mistakes. Things often things don’t work out how you thought they would. Your path starts and stops. It requires you to pivot and then pivot again.
Here’s the good part. The small steps you’re taking now will also add up to a future that is bigger, richer, and more full than the small steps you’re taking might suggest.
This is what we do in The Inspired Writer Community, We build plans and make them happen with support from the rest of the group.
We ask the hard questions.
We recognize that mistakes happen, and we learn to pivot.
We take one step forward and then another until we reach the end game.
Once we’ve reached our end game, we envision a new one and begin again.
What’s your end game? How can we help get you there?
