I read the obituaries compulsively, who has died and how much older (please) than I were they? How fast do I have to work to complete all my projects before I die? Life’s quality isn’t measured in length, but in what we become in those years. I’ve just finished writing a novel, roughly 375 pages, three years in the writing. (I’d allowed myself a decade, so I may get in two or three more.) Work like that can’t be hurried, but grows, like most accomplishments, through daily effort, a couple of hours each morning with my coffee, obsessively writing, rewriting, re-rewriting,
until I dream the story at night. A brief celebration at completion, then sending it out to literary agents praying one of them will find it marketable, then that it’s sold to a publisher. (Lots of patience, lots of prayers…) Stand by, you’ll be among the first to know! Meanwhile I begin another novel. My hours gather speed, like a cross-country ski trail suddenly dipping downhill. I swerve among the trees not knowing where I’m headed, but certain I’ll stop at the bottom, one way or another, and it’s a dazzling ride.
As always, Qigong practice gives me strength and patience, and painting relaxes and frees my brain. I have no scheduled classes for March, but would love to talk with you about tutorials in Beginning Qigong (“Chee-kung”) or Soul Painting. Call me at 541.390.9652 or email [email protected].