You know what I’m going to say. There is no perfect time.
If all the wannabe parents waited for the perfect time to have children for example, the world would soon cease to exist (either that or all children would be the product of one too many glasses of vino!)
If my youngest had waited for the perfect time to learn to ride his bike he’d still be sitting on the sidelines watching everyone else cycle round the school. With hindsight, the closest thing to ‘perfect’ timing was probably about three years ago but going back isn’t an option. All we have is this moment. There is no rewind button. ‘Coulda, shoulda, woulda’ isn’t going to help.
And yet, as much as I know it and you know it, how often to we find ourselves pausing (procrastinating?) because it doesn’t feel like quite the perfect time?
There’s something to be said for considered reflection of course. I’m not suggesting we rush thoughtlessly into every and any situation. It may have taken until my 40th year but even I’ve learned the beauty of pausing and thinking before reacting to circumstances (some of the time at least. I can’t promise to get it right all of the time!)
But if we’re honest with ourselves, how often do we spend time ‘reflecting’ and ‘considering’ in a bid to ward off the fear?
I do it myself, in that space of time between publishing a novel and getting stuck into the next one. I spend days, sometimes weeks, tweaking my outline, playing with character development and all manner of very important worthwhile ‘busy’ activities. And sure, that stuff is useful and needed but there comes a point where the bum has to get in the seat, no more ‘busy’.
There is no perfect time. You’re always going to have lots of other things calling for your attention. But all you have is this moment. What are you going to do with it?
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