Some people are the lucky ones.

You already have that person pictured in your mind, don’t you? They have perfect teeth, an insta-worthy breakfast everyday, and whatever the marker of success is for your social-economic strata, be it interviews on local TV, a column in Forbes that they didn’t pay for or adorable crotchfruit that are both honor students and on the football team.

And, as you review the gaping minefield that is your life compared to the glorious tableau of their Facebook profile, you feel that knife-turn of envy and sigh as you go back to scanning LinkedIn for clients and reheating leftovers for dinner. AGAIN.

I’ll be transparent. I’m in a slump right now. I rationally understand that it happens to the best of us and that it’s only temporary, but it still sucks. I’ve discovered that way too much of my self esteem is wrapped up in my work, but I still have issues with valuing my work. I’m a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, surrounded by an enigma.

Or I’m just human.

Here’s the interesting thing- even though I consider myself to be at a low point, I’ve had 2 people tell me how much they admire me in the past month. That I’m doing what they want to do. That I make a difference in their world. To these people, I’m the lucky one.

And you are the lucky one to someone else, too.

That’s a thought both comforting and scary. Not only does that mean that people are watching you and taking notice, but maybe, just maybe, life isn’t as horrible as your brain is telling you. That just might mean you have less to bitch about and less excuses. And then, who knows… maybe it means that you just might succeed if you keep on keeping on.

I suppose this is the point in the article where I put some type of action item or list of easy-peasey things to do that will immediately shift your mindset and your bank account. I don’t have any of those. What I do have is the little piece of advice that I learned from Julia Cameron, David Bowie, David Lynch, Monet and every other person who had a long term career doing what they loved.

Keep working.

It doesn’t matter if it feels like you are screaming into the void with every keystroke.

Keep working.

Are you having to moonlight or freelance to pay the bills?

Keep working.

Even if you have to take a 9–5 or retail job.

Keep working.

If you truly believe that your work, your art, your book, your script, your whatever is needed by the world, you need to keep working. It doesn’t matter if you are devoting 30 minutes a day or a month. What matters is that you keep working.

This slump will pass and, soon enough, I’ll be bitching that I’m too busy. In the meantime, I will keep working.

After all, I’m the lucky one.

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