There’s a long list of problems that I cause for myself. And on that list is this. I sometimes think I have it all worked out.

Not always. But sometimes. And each time I do (I am increasingly realising), doors close. I stop learning. I stop absorbing. I shrink.

It’s such a danger to me. Imagining that I have it all worked out.

So what happened from 11pm last night, as I sat down to watch the first episode of Baby Reindeer, was really useful for me. Even though I’m quite tired today. Because four hours later. At 3am in the morning. I’d watched all seven episodes.

Watching Baby Reindeer was really useful because – as a story and as a piece of work – it is braver and better than anything I’ve ever done or (worse still) it is braver and better than anything I’ve ever thought about doing.

It left me with a wonderful thought. A useful thought. For me. It made me wonder, do we live the life we really could? Or do we live the life we think we deserve?

And it also made me think about if and how my writing makes others think. Because Baby Reindeer – as a story and as a piece of work – is braver and better than anything I’ve ever done or (worse still) it is braver and better than anything I’ve ever thought about doing.

It’s such a danger to me, imagining that I have it all worked out.

Write A Comment