The Doubter Chronicles

The beauty of having older children is that in my free time, I can actually finish a book with minimal interruptions. I just finished this. I thoroughly enjoyed it-Susan's voice reminds me of my own. I felt like I knew this crazy chick with her abundance of the f-word and self-deprication. If I had an inspiration page of authors, Susan Gilman, would be right under Judy Blume.

I usually don't chronicle my book consumption. Most aren't worth mentioning, many are just devoured and shortly forgotten. Much like a drug addict, books to me seem to fall under the quantity versus quality rule.

But, on the second to the last page, a relevant paragraph struck a chord.

On Thursday, I received an email from Mrs. Possibility. Entreprenuer of the year, embodiment of passion for her business--the "do-er" in our friendship vs. me, "the dreamer".

She wrote, "Is it strange that I don't feel like doing this anymore?"

Well, hell, Miss "enjoy the journey", "everything is gonna be all right", "beacon of light at the end of the tunnel", if you, too, feel some doubt then I can accept that doubt has nothing to do with failing.

When I walk into the Market, I love the place. I love that between those 4 walls my imagination is real.

I don't love giving up my weekends or worrying about how I'm going to pay my rent. There are days when I have said, "This is your dream?? Are you kidding?" I was warned that once something becomes a job, it is no longer fun.

However, I was exempt from that--I knew what I was getting myself into.

Right. (insert sarcasm here.)

I'll get back to the second to the last page of the book:

"Moments of pure bliss were often accidental. Getting something you'd consciously worked toward, on the other hand, was often far more emotionally complicated. Fulfilling an ambition was an experience that could oscillate wildly between terror and exhilaration, helplesness and fulfillment, anxiety and mind-numbing boredom."

See, we all get it.

Right there in black and white, those of us who dare (and we all do to some extent), it's normal. I know that even though I hate giving up a sunny, summer, Saturday morning on the deck, I must keep going.

I also know there are at least two people in this world that can relate.