I painted a watercolour sketch last weekend.
“Hmm,” you’re thinking, “well, good for you.”
And, yes, actually it was good for me. Because this is the first time in two years or more that I’ve sat down and put pen â€“ or brush â€“ to paper with creative intent.
It wasn’t a large painting, or particularly skilled in execution. I only had around forty minutes free, and not the best viewpoint either.
But it was hugely significant nonetheless.
Sometimes, the big goals, the revolutionary changes, the “massive actions” are all too much to tackle. All we can manage is one teeny tiny turtle step forward.
Why turtle steps? I can’t remember when I started calling them that â€“ I think perhaps it comes from Martha Beck’s Finding Your Own North Star. But I always think of baby sea turtles â€“ so small, so vulnerable, and such a long way away from their goal of open water. That doesn’t deter them though; driven by their essential being, they launch themselves on their perilous journey and head for the sea, tiny flippers scuffing, leaving sandy divots as tangible proof of their progress.
Teeny tiny scuffs in the sand. Sketches. Stitches. Songs. Make enough of them, and you’ll reach your goal.
And you have to start with one.