Several weeks back, I fractured my leg. Long story, but suffice to say, I’ve literally been taking small steps (on crutches) as I wait for it to heal (big goal). You’ll see the parallel here with writing a book. It’s a big goal. Achieving it takes small steps. But many thought leaders make this mistake in their approach.I know this because they tell me. Repeatedly authors say they intend to set aside whole days, weekends or weeks to write. I understand this impetus to do this. The small steps to recovery of my leg have been as much a mental challenge as a physical one. Big steps feel satisfying. Small steps feel frustrating.
I became a feminist at the age of 15 when I was treated to a sudden and shocking political awakening. I left the Canberra Girls Grammar School and went to the School Without Walls (SWOW). There I met communists, feminists, and openly gay men and women for the first time in my life. I won’t say my sheltered life. No life, no matter how financially privileged (as mine certainly was), protects a woman from the impact of sexism, misogyny and abuse. I have had my share.