I’ve been a busy beaver over the summer, and contrary to the past summers of nearly a decade, the busy has been for me. I need to take a deep breath every time I think of spending the time on me. It’s something we all need to do, but what our western world often considers selfish.
On the first day of fall as I notice the beginnings of color change on the tree outside my window , I realize it has been a good summer.
I’m excited for fall. It makes me feel hopeful. There’s something about nature putting itself to bed for the winter that is so calming. As an introvert, drawing inward is more my speed and fall is all about gathering your resources to you to process over the long winter sleep. Then come spring, what issues forth from inside you, isn’t just a copy of what you shed in the fall, but is something entirely new.
I’ve finished the rough drafts of two books as the heat blazed outside–the fiction novel that I chronicled on this site with word counts, and a nonfiction book about dealing with stress. I’ll be self-publishing the nonfiction book on Amazon and elsewhere sometime in November. I’m getting the rough draft back from early readers now and it’ll be off to a professional editor in the next week or two.
The novel still needs a lot of work, mostly regarding structure, which is the aspect of my writing that I have to fight the hardest for each time I sit down to write. So significant rewrites and restructuring are in the cards before I can bring it to light. I’m hopeful about publishing it next year.
My garden grew this summer for the first time in ages because I actually had the time to tend to it. I’m still getting tomatoes, green beans, and both banana and bell peppers, as well as numerous herbs.
As I cultivated my physical garden this year, I also cultivated my creative garden. Growth has been all around me and not feeling stagnant anymore was priceless. My life has been simpler and the quiet and contemplation has done me worlds of good.
I still have a lot of work to do and the learning is never over, but wouldn’t the world be a less interesting place if we weren’t always students of its intricacies?