You may have noticed by now: I have a lot to do. Nine weeks from now, we're moving to Westacre. That really isn't very long at all. Before that, we need to finish rebuilding and decorating Roger's bungalow, get quotes from contractors on the big Westacre project, pack up our house in Harrow, do some decorating there before we can let the place out, finish our work commitments in London, and work on the future of Westacre as a business. And stay sane.

It's a long list of scary things. Scary in the sense of new, unknown, unfamiliar, challenging, and bound up with our future well being. It requires me to put in everything I have. And of all the scary things, developing Westacre as a business is easily the most scary. It is, for me at least, the whole point of the adventure. This is my once-in-a-lifetime chance to make a dream come true.

I would love to work on that. I would love to be writing my courses and recording meditations and tell stories to camera. On the very few occasions I do get time for it, the juices really do flow and I feel I'm doing good work. Trouble is, how do you prioritise something that doesn't have a deadline, or at least not a deadline that is immovable and definite. This is, after all, something that can wait until after.

After Roger's moved into his bungalow. After we've moved. After we've rented out our old house and renovated the new one. And then after that, I am sure I will find dozens of other excuses. Like needing to look after the house and garden. Or becoming involved in my new community. Whatever it is. Doing this work will always be something that can wait.

But clearly, that isn't the way to go. If I keep giving the writing the lowest priority, I shouldn't be surprised that it never gets done. Sometimes, despite the need for everything else to get done, I have to put my writing work at the top of the list.

So why is that so hard? Part of it, of course, is just sheer practicality. All that other stuff is getting more urgent as time goes by. But it's also to do with the fact that, for now, the course development is 'just' for me. Nobody knows what it's going to be yet. Nobody is waiting for it. So far, these courses only exist on my computer and in my mind. I doubt anyone is going to die if they never see the light of day.

Still, this is it. Those courses are my gift to the world. They are the culmination of years of spiritual and teaching practice. They are what I have to offer this world, and I do believe they can make a difference to how we perceive and treat our world and all that lives in it. This is what I want and need to do with my life. However hard, some days I have to say 'no' to everything else and choose my dream.