Get to Steppin’

I'd been talking about writing my next book for years. Not writing my outline, brainstorming, or typing, only talking. It's been a little over five years since I self-published my first book, "When the Mask Cracks." I never promoted it, if people saw it and bought it, I hoped that it was helpful to the reader, because it was my form of therapy for a dark time of my life.

If talking wrote books, I'd have a whole library. As a matter of fact, I think I've delivered over a dozen Ted Talks to myself in front of my bathroom and wardrobe mirror about the various stories captured in the depths of my mind, underneath my hormonal brain fog. Wait, what? Did I just share that? Well, that's a story for another day.

One Sunday afternoon wrapped in my favorite plush blanket, reclined back in my favorite chair in the corner of my living room an inspiration hit me. I grabbed my laptop propped it in my lap and opened my brain dump template, typed a paragraph, then remembered I had laundry in the washer, from there I checked my emails, scrolled through LinkedIn and YouTube; and took a nap while the TV watched me.

When I awoke from my nap my laptop sat on the end table, open but untouched like a museum exhibit titled, "The Story Never Written."

My husband paused while walking through the living room, looked at my laptop and asked, "Are you writing?"

I sat straight up, looking alert, as if I had been productive all that time, "Of course, I'm in my creative process." But the slow movement of the recliner returning to its upright position stated otherwise.

He walked around the coffee table and stared at my dark screen, "It looks as if your main character is dust."

I ignored his comment and launched into my normal speech about the books I would write. How all the ideas I have in my head will manifest into best sellers.

My husband raised one of his eyebrows and moved his hands up and down in front of him, like he was telling me to slow down. "Pump the brakes on the lip service and get to steppin' on executing an actual plan."

Bright Shoes on Stairs - Wix Media

I tilted my head to the side and looked up at him with both of my eyebrows raised, "Say what?"

My husband responded, "It's time for your fingers to start steppin' across that keyboard, or your dreams are going to manifest in the life of someone else who is disciplined enough to do the work."

"It's not as simple as you think it is," I expressed.

"Yes, it is," he said pointing to my Commit 30 affirmation placards on the tables. He began reading them aloud, "Dreams don't work unless you do" and "A year from now, you'll wish you started today."

Even though I wanted to debate his point, I couldn't do anything but smile. "Sweetheart, are you saying instead of talking about it, I need to be about it?"

He looked down at me, kissed me on my forehead, which is hard to miss and said, "Yes. It doesn't have to be a book. Think of other ways to share a glimpse of your stories or ideas with others."

"Fine," I said. "I'll get to steppin."

As my husband walked back into his office, I stared at the blinking cursor, placed my hand on the keyboard, and at that moment, "Getting2therootofit" was born.

Reflection Point: Something to Munch On

Is there a time in your life where you have been "talking" instead of "doing"?

What dream keeps tapping you on the shoulder, reminding you:

• It's time.

• Start today.

• Your future self is waiting on you.

Momentum isn't built on intension; it's built on steps. Even small ones.

Your Turn: Share in the Comments

What dream, goal, or project is telling you to "get to steppin," so a year from now you can look back and say, "I'm so glad I started"?