What never ceases to amaze me is the way that human beings can persuade themselves to believe anything that they want to; often without any evidence and even with such evidence as there is, to the contrary. And, no, I’m not off on a political rant, merely musing on my own shortcomings.
These tend to fall into two categories. Those which mainly affect others and those which cause me problems. For the former, I can only apologise and say that, by very conscious effort, I am dealing with them. It is, however, the latter that can be the more insidious. Something that, I suspect, is the same for all of us. Included in this has been the creation of my own glass ceilings, which, being transparent, are less easily seen. This manifests itself in a number of ways with, perhaps, one of the most crucial being my ability to convince myself that I could never write a book.
Well, one day some 10 years ago, I decided that I would really give it a try and, guess what? Within less than a week, I’d written over 30,000 words. Moreover, all that I wanted to do was to write. So I did. In the end, The Other Side of the Doors” came in at 132,000 words and had to be edited down a little. It was published in 2013. In the meantime, I started other books including “The Real Big Society and my part in it”, also published in 2013; this at 49,000 words and now “Lessons from a Chequered Life” this year, at 52,000 words. Two others are in the pipeline with another two planned.
There are a number of important things about this journey. The first is that, I am lucky in that the books come, virtually preformed, out of my head. The second is that, once I stick at it, words appear on the page of their own volition. Indeed, these are often the best bits when the flow of the words paint the pictures that I have in my head with some craft. The third is that I, not only, enjoy writing them, but reading them too. Finally, the joy at being told by my grandson, Chris, that he has read one and in now reading another, is immeasurable. Even I can no longer pretend that I can’t write.
The lesson, as so often, is “What are you stopping yourself from doing and why?”