As a Bay Area freelance journalist and a ghostwriter for therapists, I notice that progress is not usually linear but rather happens in bursts and often when we least expect it. For instance, I ghostwrote a book for a therapist client and we pitched it to various publishers. The process has been at least a year in the making. She kept hearing, “no, no, no” until finally a publisher said “yes.” What happened? Did we tweak our pitch? Revamp the opening chapter? Nope. It was the exact same book and the exact same pitch.
I can’t tell you what was going on for the publisher that they said, “OK, we want this,” but what I can say is life is like this. Several years ago, I planted California poppy seeds in January. In March, everyone else’s poppies started to bloom. Mine did not. I checked my poppies frequently, searching for signs of buds. Each day I stared at verdant green leaves, but no hints of orange. Finally, in about mid-May, the first bud appeared, and then suddenly, a flower. It thrilled me to see orange after so many months of waiting. I beamed from ear to ear and pride swelled within me. But note, it took months, MONTHS, for my poppies to catch up to everyone else’s.

When we compare what’s happening in our lives with other people, we might feel behind the times. Some therapists might wonder, “Why are they getting published in Psychology Today and I’m not?” “Why do they have a book and I don’t?” The truth is, everyone has their own timetables.
I’ve found over and over again that progress is systaltic, like a heartbeat. Do you know how a heart pumps blood? I learned this ages ago in AP Bio. A heart is like a syringe – it fills up with blood, pauses at fullness, and then pushes all the blood out. In all of life, we experience this cycle. It’s the natural order of things to expand, pause, and contract.
It can be so hard to remember this, especially when we compare ourselves with others. LinkedIn and Instagram make it seem like everyone else is crushing it professionally, and maybe they are. But that doesn’t mean your time won’t also come. Like with the California poppies, you may have to wait and wait and wait but then all of a sudden, there’s a bloom.
What do we do in the meantime? How do we keep pushing forward when it seems like nothing is happening? In my experience as a Bay Area freelance journalist and ghostwriter for therapists, you keep creating and then you wait. Because eventually the tide will turn. Eventually, you’ll write a blog that’s accepted by Psychology Today or a publisher will say, “We’d love to print a book on this topic!” If you’ve planted the seeds and tended the soil with care, eventually at least one of your flowers will bloom. I’m sure of it.
If you’d like support with your writing process, I’m here. Reach out to me and let’s see if we’re a good match.