Today, I’m inspired by a few pages of “Oh the places you’ll go!” by Dr. Suess. Anyone with at least one child has this book on their shelf.I’ll read the pages…You can get so confusedThat you’ll start in to raceDown long wiggled roads at a break-necking paceAnd grind on for miles across weirdish wild spaceHeaded, I fear, toward a most useless place.The waiting place…… for people just waiting.Waiting for a train to goOr a bus to come, or a plane to goOr the mail to come, or the rain to goOr the phone to ring, or the snow to snowOr waiting around for a Yes or NoOr waiting for their hair to grow.Everyone is just waiting.Waiting for the fish to biteOr waiting for wind to fly a kiteOr waiting around for a Friday nightOr waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle JakeOr a pot to boil, or a better breakOr a string of pearls, or a pair of pantsOr a wig with curls, or Another Chance.Everyone is just waiting.------------------------------------Six months ago, I read these pages to my daughters. At the time, I was in the waiting place. I wanted to jump out of my corporate life and into this project, but I was waiting for more money, I was waiting for more experience speaking into a microphone, waiting to get the right skills. I was waiting for something, and if you would have asked me at the time, I doubt I could have even told you what I was waiting for.The waiting place felt like I owed someone a debt that could I never repay; but until I paid in full, I’d never get out. I was convinced. CONVINCED! That there was a good reason why I should just keep waiting.There wasn’t.I was waiting because I was afraid. Of course I was. I was afraid of failure. Maybe of success. I was afraid of losing more time, of making a complete and total fool of myself in public. I was afraid of financial collapse and having to again, for the third time as an adult, live in a relative’s basement. I was afraid that what I didn’t know would cripple me. I was in the waiting place, and the waiting place felt safe. It is warm. I was in a line with people in front and behind me, and it felt good to know I was in line. The line was going somewhere important. It would end somewhere.Who else is waiting for more time to write? Or waiting to learn how to write? OR how to plot, for a writing group, for more inspiration, for a little more energy?So many times we want to write when the time is perfect, and so we wait for perfection. But, to move forward, you have to write through the imperfection of your life. You will have imperfect time, imperfect skill. You will make mistakes.But, your imperfection is what the work needs. Writing doesn’t need perfect, writing needs human. It needs fear and hope and disappointment and hurt. It needs things you have, not the things you think you need to get started. Your story is not perfect. Your writing life won’t be either.What are you waiting for? What are the things you think you need to write? 99% of the time, the things we are waiting for are just excuses. They are the sanction word for excuses- pragmatism. But, pragmatism is just fear in disguise.Take a step today. It can be anything. You can write for 15 minutes. You can share your dream with a loved one. You can edit that manuscript that has sat in your desk for years. &nSupport the show