The Gift of Belief

I saw someone post about whether she should take the safe job or follow her bliss and write. Then she noted that her husband wanted her to write. 

The thing is, to me her question wasn’t just about security vs dreams, though most of the people who answered her looked at it that way. It was also about spouses supporting and encouraging their dreams. 

And that prompted this post. 

Why I am able to write.

That guy in the picture. 

He is my personal “Patron of my Art.” He has a real name, but here on the blog he’s the hubs. “Out there, particularly on Flikr),” he is WyoJones, a very talented photographer.

To avoid any copyright problems, I mostly use his amazing photographs for my blog posts (one of very few people who can!). When he is well enough, he also trails me around to my events as my personal paparazzi. And after said events, he smooths away my wrinkles and family jowls so I can look sassy when I use those photos here and on my website. 

We have been married forty-seven years (which surprises us both—not that we’ve stayed married, but that we are old enough to have been married that long), and he is also the amazing father of our children. He not only made it possible not only for me to stay home with our children, but he encouraged me and believed in my storytelling even when I didn’t believe in myself. 

He called me a writer before I did. I am an author because he didn’t give up on me. 

He kept copies of my books on his desk until he retired. And I can’t count the work contacts who mention to me about how he has bragged about my books whenever I ventured into his world. 

I don’t know what that author will eventually decide to do, but it is my personal opinion that when someone offers you the gift of belief, accept it with a grateful heart. 

And then give it back to the giver. Believe in them. And do your best with the gift you’ve been given. That’s how you say thank you (though it never hurts to say the words and say them often). 

What about you? Has anyone ever offered you a special gift that you took? Didn’t take? Wished you’d taken? 

Perilously yours,

Pauline