Learn to Rest… Not to Quit

I’m tired.

Tired of waiting. Tired of fearing. Tired of, well, being tired.

When I get this tired, I’m tempted to quit. To crawl into my bed with my orange cat named Berlin and just sleep the sad away. Though I’ll probably still nap with my cat, I know that waking up won’t make me less tired.

My tired doesn’t come from a lack of sleep. It stems from a dream deferred, and even though I’ve yet to experience the fulfillment of this dream, I still carry hope inside the pocket of my heart (weird imagery, I know).

Even when I get bone-tired from my delayed season in life, I refuse to quit. I’ll take a break, for sure, but then that familiar crackling of a new story will reawaken my imagination. Characters will start telling me stories, again, and words will emerge on blank pages.

This is my purpose. This is also the cost of seeking out a life of creativity. The price is sometimes great, but the reward… the reward, dear reader, is always worthwhile.

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