Recently, we hosted our daughter for the weekend at our little cabin in the woods. To view the space through her eyes for the first time reminded me of the reasons my husband and I fell in love with the mountain retreat when we, too, first laid eyes on it. Yet it’s too easy to forget its potential when confronted with…[read more]
A writer is a writer not because she writes well and easily, because she has amazing talent, or because everything she does is golden. A writer is a writer because, even when there is no hope, even when nothing you do shows any sign of promise, you keep writing anyway. ~ Dunot Diaz
Is there a dream you’re chasing? One that is synonymous with how you define yourself? For me, it’s writing, or identifying myself as a writer. Several weeks ago, I attended a ‘write your book in a weekend’ workshop where I penned more than 50,000 words that evolved into a book of sorts—but mostly it resembled keystrokes of gibberish splashed across my laptop screen. Although I didn’t accomplish what I’d hoped for, I learned two things: 1) that particular technique to birth a book is not for me, and 2) that I possess what it takes to earn my label… because I keep writing anyway. Therein lies the promise.
What does your label look like?
Image courtesy of jennythip at FreeDigitalPhotos.net.
I can’t wait to turn the page of my monthly calendar to Feb. 1. Just like I was excited to exhale 2014 and inhale 2015, I’m ready to chalk this month up as a dress rehearsal for the year—a chance to test the waters and adjust my approach or focus for the next brand new month ahead of me. Maybe you got a slow start in January or you need to come up with more realistic resolutions. Whether it’s a new year, new month, new week or even the promise of a new day, it’s always the write time to make a change that will advance your goals and a choice that will turn your frown upside down. If everything has stayed the same for you during the past 30 days [read: looks exactly like last year], then it wouldn’t be a bad idea to make just one deviation from the norm and see what happens.
Christmas, for some, is just another day marking time on the calendar. For others, the main focus is steeped in a religious celebration with its myriad traditions. The word Christmas may denote hope, second chances, thankfulness, time with loved ones. Or it may mean shopping malls, long lines, Santa Claus and all the other holiday trappings. For me, Christmastime signifies several things. It takes me to the end of another year of dreams dreamed — some fulfilled, more still hanging in the balance. It reminds me of a halcyon time in my childhood that my mother was so much a part of yet absent the past four Christmases. And there’s a hole in my heart that can only be filled with family and friends who reside further than I can drive in a day. But I also look forward with expectation to what the New Year will bring. And I’m grateful every day for the good news and the continued promise of Someday.
Several of my friends on Facebook have been posting what they’re thankful for each day. These posts range from appreciation of the tangibles like husbands, children, friends, deodorant and pajamas to the intangibles such as playfulness in life, God and the sunrise. But instead of listing something each day, I stored them up:
Each and every one of my girlfriends who are as unique as the pattern on a butterfly’s wings (you know who you are) who build up, inspire and never let me forget I’m loved.
My family near and far.
Bikram Yoga for its healing benefits, inside and out.
A strong body and workout buddies to share the pain and sweat.
The other night I was talking to a friend about my quest for Someday — the indefinable future when everything I’ve ever hoped for (and even those things I never knew I wanted) is ripe and mine for the plucking. Instead of Someday, she said, why not “one” day? One day, I will have arrived. One day, I’ll be living my sandcastles-in-the-sky. One day my dreams will come true. Admittedly, it has a catchy ring to it, while at the same time granting me permission to appreciate Today. For some reason, it almost seems more definitive. Like a promise. But Someday, to me, is beyond a time; it’s a place. A place I plan to reside; a locale where I’ll sit back, kick the sand off my feet and shade my eyes from the sun. Where life is lived in the slow lane. And as I wait for Someday, my Todays become a means to a new beginning. One day.