Is this your stop?
Neglect is no way to achieve your ambitions
Disclaimer: This article is produced for entertainment and informational purposes only. It is not a substitute for the help of a licensed mental health professional or therapist.
If you, or anyone you know, is struggling, seek help immediately from the Samaritans or local emergency services.
“You’ve stopped writing,” he said.
“Not completely. I’m working on a new novel.”
“But the letters. I haven’t seen one in a while.”
Now, that much is true.
What started as a week-long break turned into three. Then four.
But there’s a reason for that.
And one that I’m proud to share.
No station for the wicked
You know the feeling when you want to stop.
But you’re scared.
Scared it’ll make you a coward.
A quitter.
And the hype train we’ve hitched a ride with doesn’t slow down.
Seems like there’s no way to get off even when we want to.
Which is why, when I was exhausted, juggling work, writing, keeping fit, eating well (to an alarmingly inconsistent degree) I kept going.
I told myself I was in the zone, even when I knew I wasn’t really.
That to capitulate now was to accept failure.
That ever cruel and present teacher.
Until one day, where I knew I needed to add another responsibility into the mix.
And I couldn’t do it.
I had to do something uncomfortable instead, and take my own advice.
So, where do you come into all this?
Looking out means looking in, once and a while
There’s a limit to what you can do for other people at any moment in time.
In some seasons, you’ve got the bandwidth to commit to something small.
Especially if you know it’ll have an outsized benefit to someone else.
But there are other times where saying yes isn’t the gift you think it is.
Where you’re stretched so thinly that to say yes is to deliver no, via disappointment.
And that, frankly, is no way for any of us to live.
Certainly not to live well.
Looking out for yourself in those moments allows you the capacity to show up for others.
A pinch of selfishness, just in time, is what’ll keep you sane.
And honestly?
Sanity is an underrated virtue, these days.
So, I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.
Staying sane is prioritising the future
When I started this letter writing campaign, I had this idea that I would do it for six months, and see how it goes.
Nine months later, I’ve been blown away by the responses you’ve shared with me, whether you’ve put them in writing here or privately.
But it’s time for me to think about what the future looks like, as I stare at a list of some hundred literary agents I’ve started to query.
That future looks to me like a balanced one.
A sensible cadence of creativity, writing support for those that need it, and (of course) another novel in the works.
It looks like meeting my son for the first time, and imparting what wisdom I can to him as he grows into a thriving individual.
It looks like less ‘things’ and greater intent.
And, of course, approaching myself as a compassionate friend.
Where do we go from here?
Is this a farewell letter?
No. Not yet, at least.
But it is a shift in the cadence of the letters, which you’ll receive once a month rather than every single week.
The world, I believe, needs us all to write more letters like this.
Because your ambitions, whatever they are, deserve to be shared as we always have.
As friends foremost, with an eye on the future.
And the destination to come.
For now, it’s been a pleasure and privilege.
And until next month: this is my stop.
Warmest regards
Your author
Stuart Found
P.S. What could you do less for a while, to give yourself more bandwidth?