Crossing the Rubicon

“Crossing The Rubicon” is an old phrase which means “the point at which one becomes irrevocably committed”. During Roman times, the Rubicon was a river in Italy and to cross it with your army was to make a statement of war. The phrase came into being when Caesar led his army across the Rubicon in 49 B.C..

I recently came across this phrase and have been rolling it around in my brain for a few weeks. The phrase “irrevocably committed” struck me in the forehead like a Harry Potter lightning tattoo. It sounds so strong, so dangerous, so final. Being irrecovably committed. Point of no return. I wonder at which point when Caesar “crossed the Rubicon” that it was considered that he was making a declaration of war. When he dipped his toe in? When he was waist-deep? When he got to the middle of the river? When his troops began to follow him? When he arrived on the other side?

I like to think it was when he dipped his first toe in.  Becoming irrevocably committed is kind of a big deal. It’s something that one should think about, consider, mull over and discuss over lots and lots of wine first. To lead your men into battle, to declare your intentions to the world is a bold move. And you’d better be sure.

I am a lawyer and a mother. One was a happy accident and one was what happens when you let life lead you. One makes me deliriously happy and deliriously tired, and the other just makes me tired.  The writer in me stayed quiet for many years, content to let me go to happy hours and drink wine with my best friends and spend all my lawyer money on gorgeous shoes. When I had all the time in the world, the writer within was content to slumber. Now though. Now I have no time. And the writer in me is prancing and prattling and knocking on the door of my brain, demanding to be let out, demanding to finally be heard.

After the birth of my son, I had a bit of an identity earthquake. I am still struggling to put the pieces back together of who I am or will be. But the one thing that is very clear to me is that I can no longer think that “someday” I will realize my dreams, that I can no longer wait for my “someday” over the rainbow. I have to chase those dreams now, for him. I want to teach him to follow your passion, to dream big and to never settle for ordinary. And how can I do that when I am not following my own advice? If I do this right, I won’t even have to tell him all of those cliches. He will learn by example.

In this past year of juggling motherhood and work and writing, I have been given a gift. For the next 6 months, I am working a flex time schedule. Which means I only have to work like a normal person and not like a crazy person. Which means that I get to actually spend time with my son. Which also means that a time warp has suddenly opened in front of me. I have six months to try to become a Writer. To stop talking about writing, and start doing. To become Irrevocably Committed.

So, this blog is my declaration of war. On myself. On talking and dreaming and not doing. I am dipping my toe in the water.