Photo courtesy WTL photos
Editor’s Note: This is a guest post from Sean Platt of Writer Dad.
Two years ago, I didn’t know I was a writer. The knowledge was still sleeping inside me; treasure buried and abandoned sometime in early childhood. I was not aware of its entombment, as it was a thought I’d given no consideration for maybe twenty-five years.
I loved to read, but thought nothing of the possibility that pen and paper could possibly be the tools of my trade. The books I read mattered even less than the letters I wrote to my wife and children.
I could never string my syllables together well enough to make my living.
Today, I am a writer.
Two years back, my wife whispered in my ear, “When are you going to start writing?” Perhaps to impress her, perhaps only to see if I could, I penned something special for our first born. The results made her weep. Then, like any other fire that needs feeding, my wife continued to fan the flames of my newfound fascination, adding fuel until a few glowing embers were roaring from within a raging inferno.
“Your words are beautiful,” she would constantly say, her compliments most often chased by the truth of a kiss; her belief in me too easy to taste.
Her faith in me lay undivided, and briskly inspired my own. I decided to put myself out there to face the judgment of a less forgiving audience.
I decided to start a blog.
I had no idea where it would take me, but I was eager to feel the winds of change lightly chap my cheeks; ready to put one foot before the other and step straight into the gale. I registered a domain and began to publish my pages for daily public perusal.
The last six months have fallen from the calendar like leaves in those final hours of autumn; gracefully hurried but a little behind. Blogging has been little like I expected and more than I ever dared to imagine.
Countless doors now stand ajar, each awaiting entry. My wife, still unwavering in her faith, wishes to cross the thresholds in unison.
At the end of December, we closed the preschool we’ve run together for the last several years, ready to work hand in hand in a whole different way, building our dreams online and in tandem, in a new world surrounded by no ceilings or walls.
Our adventure is scary, but only because we cannot see past its horizon. However, knowing what lies in wait does not lead to the absence of fear. It merely embeds the bricks deep in the boardwalks of boredom.
I will go anywhere with her.
The best places I’ve gone in this life have been those where we’ve braided fingers whilst stepping on unfamiliar ground. The mistakes I’ve made have been those where I stepped forward absent her breath by my side.
Marriage is the ultimate adventure, a podium from which every other dream might declare its intention. I am fortunate to have a wife who believes in me without fail, and who has given birth to the remaining two of my three best friends.
Our last year was amazing and looks to soon swim in the shadow of the next. Without her by my side, it would have been just another twelve pages on the calendar.
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