I love to write. When I write, I come alive and feel as though I can do magic; that anything’s possible. All of the wild thoughts and imaginings and creations in my head clamber to take form and rush from my mind down to my fingers almost quicker than I can assemble them.

Yet I have found far too many reasons not to write over the last couple of years. Consumed by doubt, my words – still swirling around in my mind; still vivid and colourful – refused to be channeled for anyone else to see. They grew shy, and unsure of themselves. In they end, they hardly knew how to come out at all, even for me. When they did, they were hesitant, and disappeared quickly. My spring of creativity dried up, or perhaps it was dammed. The words no longer vied for my attention. They hid, impervious to coaxing, and took solace in the fact that they were safe and comfortable.

Yet here I am, writing this now and yes: it feels clunky and base and contrived. Like I’ve lost my rhythm, my treasured flow. Like I’m cutting coarse fabric with blunt scissors. “Use it or lose it” – the perfectionist in me says I’ve lost it, and cringes at the idea of clicking “publish” and sending this into cyberspace to be met by you. But I’m determined to write it, because today I promised myself that I would start to do just one thing differently in order to change my life for the better, and give life to my precious words again.

That one thing different is this: instead of saying “no”, say “yes.” Instead of finding reasons to stay safe and comfortable and right, find reasons to do that which burns to be done. Feed the aspiration, not the fear. Find reasons to do the undo-able, speak the unspeakable, and say, “yes” to what is in the heart to do.

It is hard. It is hard being a perfectionist and offering up imperfect words. It is hard to feel that something which was once light and easy and fun is now hard and sluggish and requiring conscious effort. It’s harder to have no words; to have only the yearning for words, and the regret at all the words that have gone unwritten.

I am determined to feed my aspiration. Today, imperfect words. Tomorrow, imperfect words. In ten years’ time – more imperfect words. Because there is no such thing as perfect words. There is only what we want to do, and whether we have the courage to manifest it – to say “yes” to our aspiration instead of our fears.

So this is my one thing different. Choosing “want” over “don’t want,” and “yes” over “no.” Thank you for reading these imperfect words. I hope very, very much that there will be more to come.