I woke up at 2:00 a.m. last night. It was not a gradual, gentle swimming back into consciousness. Instead, I was AWAKE in an instant, not knowing how or why my body decided to flip the “on” switch.
Listening to the comforting sounds of breathing (one husband, two dogs and one cat) calmed me down, but then my insidious monkey brain kicked into action.
“You are never going to make it as a writer,” it whispered, loading up all of the evidence of my past efforts.
I knew where this was going and it wasn’t good, especially at 2:00 a.m. when I am most vulnerable. While I was thinking of a witty response, my monkey mind seized the opportunity to strike again.
“No one wants to read your books because they are worthless.” The tone had changed from whispering to an outright, harsh message that made me cringe. Just as I was about to cave in and give up, I remembered the definition of success that I had created for just these kinds of moments.
Feeling more empowered, I calmly asked, “Has one person been touched after reading one of my books?”
Silence. “After reading my words, has one person felt closer to God?” Crickets chirping and my heart slowing down.
I went in for the last jab. “Because my books have touched hearts and helped at least one person turn their thoughts to God, then I am a success.”
I took a deep breath and stretched from head to toe. Gratitude flooded through me and I said a prayer to the one who made it all possible.
Thank you God!