On October 31, 2015--the morning after Molly's beautiful wedding--Mickie and I went to breakfast with our Life Coach, Jay Pryor. It was the first time I'd met him, although we'd worked together more than a year and a half at that point. The quaint little breakfast joint somewhere near the Plaza was packed, but we managed to snag a table and gracelessly grab for the steaming coffee our waitress offered. And, then, we all talked at once. Mickie and Jay discussed her venture into coaching, but at one point she turned to me and made, what I have learned to label, a bold request: "I wish you'd write a book in your own style about your life," she said to me. "About the things that happened to you." Jay immediately jumped in with encouragement, but cut me off quickly when the "all too common" answer rolled out of my mouth: "Oh, I'm not good enough to do that." The minute I said it, I knew trouble was on the way. Jay does not countenance "Not Good Enough" and that morning was no exception.
At the same time--secretly--I was excited about trying to write a book. Not a real book, of course, I told myself. Just a series of essays...kind of blog-like. For a few years I've been writing a blog, or playing at writing a blog. Or, guiltily, taking time out of my day to work on a blog. But this! This would legitimize my stolen hours in front of my laptop. A book would be permission to close the guest room door and shout, "I'm writing!" when Dr. C. knocked. Or, not. He's a persistent devil and tries to be considerate, but he's so social he gets nervous if I'm in there too long. But, he really tries hard, and he's getting much better at it.
So...with some semblence of confidence, I began tapping away, writing a book...a real book. But, how should I write it? How should I format it? Will it make sense to you--my targeted readers? How to...Oh, Good Lord! Yes, I was that desperate and a failure before I'd even started. This writing gig wasn't as easy and fun as I'd always assumed. I typed through November and I typed through December. I typed through all 31 days of January. Then, one dreary afternoon in February, I look at the mess and deleted it all.
And began again.
So, this little book is the end result of all those hours of happiness and despair, dashed hopes and frustration. Struggles with technology and tussles with Blogger. But it has been such fun to write these little essays. I have loved every minute of it. At the risk of sounding like my self-centered, proud-as-punch five year old self, I hope you enjoy the read. It obviously hasn't been the perfect life, but it's the only one I've had and I intend to celebrate it...while clinging on as long as I can.
Love to each of you and Merry Christmas!
Your Mom
*Partial quote from Meister Eckhart
November 7, 2016
At the same time--secretly--I was excited about trying to write a book. Not a real book, of course, I told myself. Just a series of essays...kind of blog-like. For a few years I've been writing a blog, or playing at writing a blog. Or, guiltily, taking time out of my day to work on a blog. But this! This would legitimize my stolen hours in front of my laptop. A book would be permission to close the guest room door and shout, "I'm writing!" when Dr. C. knocked. Or, not. He's a persistent devil and tries to be considerate, but he's so social he gets nervous if I'm in there too long. But, he really tries hard, and he's getting much better at it.
So...with some semblence of confidence, I began tapping away, writing a book...a real book. But, how should I write it? How should I format it? Will it make sense to you--my targeted readers? How to...Oh, Good Lord! Yes, I was that desperate and a failure before I'd even started. This writing gig wasn't as easy and fun as I'd always assumed. I typed through November and I typed through December. I typed through all 31 days of January. Then, one dreary afternoon in February, I look at the mess and deleted it all.
And began again.
So, this little book is the end result of all those hours of happiness and despair, dashed hopes and frustration. Struggles with technology and tussles with Blogger. But it has been such fun to write these little essays. I have loved every minute of it. At the risk of sounding like my self-centered, proud-as-punch five year old self, I hope you enjoy the read. It obviously hasn't been the perfect life, but it's the only one I've had and I intend to celebrate it...while clinging on as long as I can.
Love to each of you and Merry Christmas!
Your Mom
*Partial quote from Meister Eckhart
November 7, 2016
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