April 30, 2022
April has had its fair share of rain this year, but right now with sunshine warming the air and the soil, early bulbs and perennials colour the garden and offer hope for a COVID-free world. (That last bit would be my inner Pollyanna voice.)
30 years ago, on the 26th of April, my sister Jane, died of brain cancer at the age of 42. In the memoir I began five years ago to mark 25 years without her, she factors prominently as my confidant and muse. While a sense of catharsis may accompany the overdue completion of my manuscript, the loss I feel for her remains.
For me, the business part of writing (aka: the road to publishing) is dull and daunting. Tedious enough to make me ask myself “Why bother?” A journey with so many forks, U-turns and dead ends, is enough to test anyone’s drive to succeed.
My biggest problem though, is the anxiety caused by my entrenched mindset to get the work done. Writing and creating are the fun parts and having been raised under the mantra: work before play, I don’t feel dabbling in a new writing project permissible until I’ve got all my publishing ducks organized. It was too much; I needed help.
Many thanks for my Nourishment Call with Chelene Knight who showed me tools to break down and sort the madness impeding my progress and left me feeling more grounded and assured. And to my weekly writing-sprint friend, Andrew. Our chat took me three steps closer to confidence and recognizing the big picture needs of my manuscript.
Now that I’ve taken time to identify the source of my frustration, I’ll spend the early part of May weaving a plan of measured step towards my publishing goal and pepper it with enough fun-framed windows to tease me forward and make me smile.
Some things that make me smile:
THIS MONTH’S SKETCH and a HAIKU:
Grandbaby twin boys
toddle twig-linked adventures
on dappled footpaths
THIS MONTH’S PHOTOGRAPH:
An early perennial whose bold, bronze foliage provides a flattering backdrop to pink tulips (done), golden Hakone grass (still too small to see) and in this case, a litter of once velvety, now disintegrating Magnolia blossoms. Oh, and the eager Hosta peeking out in the foreground. My garden never stops changing.
I’ve discovered that keeping track of the books I complete has me not only more conscious of my reading habits, but reading more. Not sure if that’s good or bad …