Today I feel like having a gentle morning. It’s been a balls-out month of writing (30,000 words in 30 days) and I am thrilled with that. I intend to have another good day of writing today too. But I think I need to approach it in a softer way today.
So much of my life this past year has been stressful, dealing with death, divorce, and heartbreak, and soon, a big cross-country move. I’ve earned that new streak of grey hair, for sure. And I’m still kicking–fiercely sometimes. Often, I don’t even feel like I’m breathing; I’m just plowing along, shoulders in the traces, trying to stay alive and not lose the things I still have. It can be hard to appreciate the things that make life beautiful at a time like this, or even to look up and see them.
I haven’t gone to see the aspens in their golden splendor, or hiked my favorite trails in months. I haven’t fed the birds in my yard, or eaten in my favorite restaurants. Haven’t strolled downtown, peeked in art galleries, gone shopping.
I have had some lovely laughs with good friends, here and there. I have had the pleasure of using my craft, and knowing I’m doing the thing I was meant to do with my life. I know things will get better as I move through this phase, and I know there are good things in store. I just have to treat myself in a loving way if I want to get to the finish line.