It’s the beginning of another work week, the middle of the 6th month, the state I live in is on fire (Arizona), the virus has shown no signs of slowing down, people are returning to work/family/friends/activities/events, and change continues to roll through society. No, I can’t pack all that, along with details, into my calendar space for “June 15”. But what I can do is look at my interior landscape and see where and what and how I can improve, be productive, find direction, and make progress.
I’ve been working on editing my last completed book, and decided I need to go back to the beginning and add some sentences/details so questions of why and how don’t confuse me when I do the read aloud. I’m at about 145K words, and my rewrites always increase my word count! I looked at my list of published projects, and wondered how and when I’ll return to the various series. Perhaps this is a question best postponed until the current project is done.
The imagination is a wily, fickle thing. As a writer, I sometimes believe myself in charge of this part of me. At other times I realize I’m but a pawn to its whims. I can say the same for my thoughts. As a yoga practitioner, I’m no stranger to observing those intangibles that arise and sometimes grip me in emotions I think I should control. I think it’s much like being Tasered in the jugular. And at some point, when the involuntary spasmodic jerking of muscles is done and the gray matter comes back online, I get a chance to take stock. I’ll share what I find, should what I find be worth sharing.
In the meantime, should you need a light in your own darkness, take my candle. Peace to you all, wherever you are, however you are.