Ideas flow like rain from English skies but without action those little droplets, ripe with possibility, become nothing more than puddles that dampen the spirit and make your feet wet. I've lost count of the amount of things I've wanted to do in my life; the projects and plans that have energised and excited every sinew and nerve ending in my body only to fizzle out with a pathetic hiss after just a few days. Why? Because all to often I mistake thinking for doing.
Thinking is so safe. And so easy. Among the intelligentsia thinking is considered high art; something to aspire to on a daily basis, something to immerse oneself in and fashion ourselves from. Thinking is good.
And it is. Yet, thinking can also be an obstacle to growth and success. An idea blossoms, the roots needed to sustain it are mapped out and then the whole thing is smothered by layer upon layer of cogitation and rumination until nothing remains but a withered stem.
I don't want to think, I want to do. Wish me luck!