As I might have mentioned in earlier posts, my writing process has a lot to do with eliminating all other distractions and then being able to proceed with an unburdened mind. Today, my Monday after sending my son back to his mom’s for the week, consisted mainly of uncluttering my mind. Was I successful? Not especially, but at least I won’t have as many distractions tomorrow.
My list of things to do includes the following:
- Read up on books to build a better travel writing website
- Approach more clients, editors, and leads
- Write some pitches
- Plan an itenary for writing trips
- Work on the book
- Update LinkedIn profile
None of that got accomplished today. These are some of what were accomplished:
- Cooked roasted chicken for lunch
- Replaced office deadbolt
- Hung curtains on back door
- Washed and re-hung wrinkled curtains in bedroom
- Installed a barrel bolt on door leading to the dock (yes, my house has a dock)
- Took the dog out for several walks
- Sent some emails
- Jury duty postponement form
- Chatted with friends and got caught up
- Beat self up about various things
Now that all of those things are out of the way, I can expect to have a productive week.
There are days where the storms roll up on you, the wind howls, and the branches snap from high limbs of trees. The rains come and threaten to wash you away. The noise, the lightning, the chaos. It is maddening. You feel like you might die at any moment. Alone against the storm.
Then the wind subsides. The land is quenched. The distant rumble that you hear is almost comforting.
You look at the devastation left in the wake of the storm and understand that things were bad, but could have been worse. I’m tired of these storms. But what this last one left in its wake was a story of hope. It’s a story that continues to be told.
A story of picking up what is left and moving forward.
I get to pick what was good from every moment of my life. All the lessons. All the happy moments. Nobody can take those away from me. I had forgotten that for a little bit. They exist independently now, in a room in my heart, in an archive of my memories. They are safe and yet always with me. Along with perfect moments, kissing in moonlight, sweet moments with my children, good friends I have met along the way, and houses with solariums and libraries that are yet to be built.
I’m going to get some rest now.
This city can be pretty melancholy in the rain. Maybe that’s what it was. Maybe it was just trip exhaustion. Either way, here is the low point of the London trip. Submitted for your approval. Gettingoutmore.org.