Here’s some transparency.
Sometimes I get busy. It starts innocently enough. I need to take a new client on a day that I usually reserve for me-time, or more likely, at least in my case, I decide to take a class – something that will just be a couple hours once a week for a couple months. That’s how I look at it. It’s just a little time for a while. Then, when I’m not looking, I get a new client. Then a really cool opportunity to work with a certain group pops up, and again, it’s only a little time for a little while. In the middle of that little while, something else pops up. I tell myself, “well, this other thing that I’ve already been doing for a bit will be over in a few minutes, hours or days, and then this new thing that I added won’t be anything big at all. It’ll just be another a little time for a little while.
And on and on and on. [Read more…] about Falling Into Busy
I have always been a writer. My journals, if I still had them would date back to October 1st, 1989, the day I arrived in Edzell, Scotland. With the exception of just a few years after my Mother died, expressing myself in writing has been my go-to healing modality. I’ve written poetry, monologues, and bits of dialogue for stage performances. My writing has always been self reflective, and when I thought of writing longer pieces, memoir generally came to mind as the genre of choice. It’s true, writing in a journal or in a blog has been the pathway into my own dark secrets, deep loves, and shadows.
My 11-year-old Dog, Ginger died on December 5th. I intended to write here. Perhaps share something about grief, a subject I’m pretty well-versed in and have been since my Mom died in 2013.
