Gratitude

Sometimes, in the hustle and bustle of daily life, we forget to stop and give thanks for our blessings. I know I do. Frequently. It’s easy to take for granted that we’re healthy, or that we’ve got food to eat, or a roof over our heads. We forget that there are people out there who don’t have those things. And then it’s like, whoa, I am so lucky. I need to thank God/the Universe/whomever for this. Every Thanksgiving I try my best to practice gratitude. At our table, we list our blessings and what we are thankful for. It’s a small but very powerful thing. It reminds us that we should never take anything for granted. As you know, my health has never been perfect. But I am very lucky in that I’ve never had cancer or any other serious or life-threatening illness. I’ve never had to think about what happens after I’m gone in a very real way (versus abstractly right now) or actually make preparations for that possibility or say goodbyes or be faced with options that will either give me three great months or seven horrible ones. I thank God for that all the time. Yeah, I get frustrated with things — the severe fatigue, the sleep issues, the little stuff that pops up…but nothing’s killing me. I’m lucky. So damn lucky. I’m also grateful for my business, my job, which allows me to work from home and not jeopardize my health worse by having to work…

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Searching for Consistency in Chaos

Yeah, that’s basically been my life for…gosh…since August of last year? Not counting COVID, just business stuff, now. Somehow the editing part of my business exploded and I started getting jobs way more frequently than usual…one after the other. While this was totally awesome and lucrative, it required some adjusting — from the way I structured my workday to the way I scheduled each and every job. And, for the most part, it hasn’t really let up since. Which is awesome. And a bit rough. And then we also have COVID in there, and the usual life stuff, and my health crap and and and… So things have been seriously off kilter for awhile. So much that I haven’t written in months. One of my editing clients, who I routinely talk shop with, asked me the other day how the writing was coming along and I had to honestly tell him that I’d written 181 words in January and that was it for the year so far. And some poetry. And in years past I’d written every single day. My least prolific year back then was around 86,000 words, back when I spent a bit more time editing than drafting. My most prolific year? 399,000 words. Four standard novels, folks. But back then I had 9-to-5 day job. I came home, ate dinner, and wrote. Rinse and repeat. For years. It was not only a routine, but a comfort. I knew I could always go into my worlds and play.…

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