Can I still say that I am new to Atlanta? I drove in, van pack to the brim with stuff we probably didn’t need and four kids in tow. We got here in November barely missing the first snow back in Ohio and already missing meaningful connections that were made. Still, I wish I would have paid attention to the nagging feeling pulling inside of me sooner! I guess through my anxiety of feeling like I was never going to find a job I couldn’t see the blessing in disguise. The blessing I had prayed for. The blessing of time.
My husband made the trip south a full month before me, sleeping at his sisters’ houses and enjoying their love, comfort, and company. He found work and signed a lease for us to rent a home before I arrived. I came down jobless and unaware of what to expect but I hit the ground running anyway. While I was at home my husband would ask “Have you worked on anything?” This question really asked two things. 1. Do you hate me for moving you 12 hours away from anyone you’ve ever known? And 2. Have you written anything with the newfound time the absence of a 40 hour a week work week will provide? The answer to both, unfortunately, no. Ok, I’m being a bit dramatic. My husband, a creative himself wanted to move to a place where he felt like his most creative self and where he didn’t have to be in a car for 12 hours to be closer to his siblings. I knew them, had met them and even hung out a time or two. They were beautiful people but they had to love him, he was their older brother and he is awesome. Outside of a few rendezvous they barely knew me. But I signed on for the relocate and all the challenges that went with.
Regarding writing. Yea. I wrote a few cover letters. I constantly revised my resume. I wrote and re-wrote my objective statement. I’m pretty smart so I knew this wasn’t’ what he meant and this is not what I wanted to see when I reflected on my beginnings in Atlanta. Reflection is big to me, you have to look back on where you had been in order to plan for your future. I had lived a life where I just let the future happen to me but I was ready to be more hands-on and paint the picture of what I wanted my future to look like. At the end of December, it was time to reflect on 2018 and prepare for 2019. That’s when it hit me ALL THE TIME I was wasting. I had over thirty days of open time and I wrote next to nothing. With all that goes hand in hand with becoming acclimated to a new location my time was more than accounted for. It was real but, it was also another excuse I didn’t want to take into the new year with me. Writing had always been my dream but my responsibilities and obligations piled on top of my dreams like liquid cement. I watched it sink and I felt powerless to stop it year after year.
I made an observation that 2019 could be vastly different. I was already in a new location, this didn’t have to be the only change I embarked upon. This is how I would paint it and give it meaning. 2019 would shine in scrapbooks to come. I wrote down that It would be about reclaiming my power and busting through that cement-like something out of a Marvel film. 2019 I would defeat obstacles and unbury my dreams. 2019 I would take this farther than I ever have in the past in preparation for propelling me into the great author I know I am destined to be. I put this in writing and I was beyond excited about the future which fueled my motivation. I was riding this creative wave and loving it. I made vision boards to keep me motivated and brainstormed other ways to stay in my zone. Planning for each quarter of 2019 was both rewarding and therapeutic. I spent more time around my sister in laws and loved the creative energy they gave off. Surrounded by so much greatness I had no choice but to give this the attention it deserved, especially since I wasn’t working. Aaaand then I got a job offer right before the new year. I opened up a Onenote notebook and entitled it Extraordinary Pebbles, the notebook that would bear witness to me unburying my dreams, on December 24th, 2018. I began working a full-time job on January 2nd and I knew instantly that I would love it. I could help with our bills, get out of the ditch that relocating put us in and meet new people. Everyone here was welcoming and understanding of what it meant to be in a completely new space. It wasn’t all great news though. The job would be demanding and require over an hour each way in the worst traffic I had ever encountered. Aaand how was I going to do all this and uphold my plans?
I am not new to juggling roles. I am a mother of five, I am a wife, I am a daughter, a friend and a hopeless creative. Nothing about me gave me permission to half-ass any of those in the past (except the creative role but more on that later) All the while simultaneously holding down an 8 – 12 hour (sometimes 16, I miss the ER) job. Being creative through writing is important to me and it is time to start giving it the attention that it deserves. It’s hard to admit but I was a bit ashamed of my dreams. Shame made it easier to not take it seriously. I felt great while creating stories and poems. I felt great while reciting them to close friends who would croon how great I was. But, to tell a complete stranger that I like to make up stories in my spare time felt childish and unrealistic to me. So I got used to shrinking it. “Yea I write small stories from time to time ” I would say or “In my spare time I write poetry” I felt like it painted a picture of me as a high school girl drawing me and my crush’s name in hearts on the back of my pink notebook. That was the opposite of how I wanted to feel or how I wanted to be seen. Everyone else’s dreams always seemed so ambitious. I live with a man who willingly signed up for the army and went to war for a country that he cannot predict. Despite this, he wore his uniform proudly and loved and respected a unity such as an army as what he wanted and hoped that it would be. He believes that there is an innate need in everyone to be great and often sees these traits in people before they see it in themselves. Along with this he has quite a way with words himself but prefers to take his thoughts in a quiet place and flow them over a nice beat. He isn’t a bad singer either but his passion is rapping. I wasn’t always the voice of encouragement that he needed but that’s a different post. The relevance is that I sleep next to greatness every night.
Being in the medical field I spent a lot of time next to medical professionals such as Physician Assistants, Nurses (including practitioners) EMT’s, paramedics and Doctors. They literally saved lives in front of my face. I had a charge nurse call me when I had to call off to ask about reaching out and coordinating with another department in another hospital to facilitate an emergency transport that may have very well saved someone’s life. That was important but I couldn’t always see my importance in it. I even thought it would be admirable to go into architecture when I was younger but was too shy to let people know that I could construct whole worlds and characters from scratch in my brain. My dreams felt small and small felt insignificant. POISON. If I was going to do this I would need to stop feeding myself that poison. How dare I slap Toni Morrison, Alice Walker, Eric Jerome Dickey, Zane, Carl Webber, Tayari Jones and Omar Tyree dead in the face by calling their profession insignificant just because I felt small. Their worlds made me feel big, their accomplishments ignited many a fire that would burn out because self-doubt and ignorance would starve and suffocate my flame. How dare I raise my voice to the very God that gave it to me and tell him that my talent was stupid and served no real purpose? Nah bruh — something had to change.
So I’m finished. No more washing down my dinner with self-doubt. I can be proud of others and be proud of myself at the same time but first I have to do the work and give myself something to be proud of. There was even a step before that. I have to look in the mirror and recognize myself as being worthy and important. I am a creative. My dream is to write fiction and to resurrect in others the feeling I feel while creating and reading great stories. It’s indescribable really, to take a blank document, spill your thoughts onto it, strategically revise it and have someone call it art and refer to it as great. It makes me feel like a lifesaver and the life I am in the midst of saving is my own. I spent a lot of money (and borrowed a pretty penny too) trying to figure out what I was supposed to do in life. One thing has stuck with me through it all. This yearning to write. I’m ready, more writing, less running. The caveat to that: it cannot happen in silence. Correction, it can but it’s a lot less likely. My advice to myself and anyone ready to embark on the journey of unburying their dreams is this: Be the big voice that propels your dreams into success. Tell yourself how great you are and throw that hand over your shoulder and pat your damn self on the back. Let others know what your up to, endorse an accountability partner. Join groups of other creatives (or whatever your niche is) and make it colorful. You don’t all have to be doing the same thing but keep each other encouraged and check in often and make sure everyone is doing something. Keep your ear to the ground — rules change often. You’re going to need to know what rules and laws govern the journey to your destination. Talk to people who have been through it, enlist a mentor, reach out to authors (or predominate people in your niche) you admire. Social media is full of greatness and these people talk back — get into the type of conversations that can radically change your life and set you up for the type of future you desire.
There are people who have dug the ditch and they are just waiting to kick their dream in the ass and shovel the dirt on top. STOP! Spoil alert, it hurts and it’s even more of a backbreaker trying to unbury it later. You may say “but you haven’t done it yet.” I have. I have unburied her. She’s on life support and it’s still fragile but the good news is, she’ll make it. I can finally say this with confidence. I will create great content. I will write great books. Its what I was meant to do. I may not inspire EVERYBODY but I know I will inspire somebody. If one person holds strong to their dreams and another unburies and finds themselves through to theirs than it was worth it. One day we will all be buried, it is morbid but true. We don’t get to live forever in this life, However, if you do it right your dreams can and will.
I’m going to get back to this debut novel of mine but don’t forget my words. You’ll be hearing from me soon.
D's Quest for Extraordinary Pebbles 