Skip to main content

It's All Gravy

Last week, I was wandering through a bookstore, soaking in all the wonderful-ness that comes with wandering around a store filled with stories, I was hit with a bit of inspiration.

I've certainly been at a cross roads before. Certainly had the opportunity to make a choice one way or the other way. And for many years, my perfectionist self consistently want to make sure I was doing things the RIGHT way.

Whether it's age or experiences or the west coast air, I think I've slowly come to the realization that in essence, it doesn't really matter which path you take as long as you're always moving forward.

I tweeted "Accept that your life could go in many directions, all fulfiling, and you will fear less about making mistakes...".

And since today I emerged from a bit of virus hell (sorry all those who may have had to come along the ride with me) I was reminded of this tweet and it made me think about it all over again.

I could be a travel writer. I could be a publicist for a book company. I could keep tech writing. I could go back to school and become a doctor, a lawyer, a diplomat. I could become a mother. I could go live on an island, off the grid. I could go back to being a journalist. I could cover wars.

But I'm pretty sure, I can't do them all. And I'm pretty sure that each day seems to bring new feelings, emotions, new instincts about where this path is taking me.

And while this may seem obvious to all of those reading or perhaps I've stated this before just in a way I wasn't fully understanding it or for that matter, it may be so simplistic that you can even fathom how I WOULDN'T understand it but really, what matters is that I am just still going. Still doing. Still being.

I guess I just really feel ready to be ok with not doing everything on the list that I thought someday I would do. That I'm ok with taking more risks, that maybe put in even different places then I expected. That I'm ok with the decisions I'm making because I know I'm instinctively making them for a reason.

And so all the good things that happen along the road? All the bad things? All the things? Well, they're really just added bonuses. Because the life bit comes in the CHOOSING. The rest of it is just gravy.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I'm baaaack!

Hard to believe that last entry was almost three years ago!

Many moons ago, I set this blog up to chronicle our journeys. Once we were grounded a bit more, it kind of lost its way. I spent some time working on my writing offline, taking on different projects and working full time as a technical writer. It was difficult to keep this blog up. Not for any real reason I can articulate. Just had my words redirected to other avenues for awhile.
But, I'm pleased to say, after over a decade away, we are back in the UK, living and re-experiencing a place we enjoyed in the mid-2000s.
Social media has certainly changed the way we look at blogs. I'm excited to navigate this new world, explore just what people post, what people read. What's better on one of the many new platforms and what's still appropriate for good old fashioned blogosphere.
For now, here's a peek at where we're staying -- in a pretty little village just outside of Oxford. A temporary home for now but suc…

Focus

My regular journaling has significantly improved my mood.

I've been taking some time, twice a week, to polish existing content as well as develop my floating ideas into a more concrete outline.

I've felt this focus for the last 6 weeks that I can't really describe properly. It's as though I've shifted my thinking totally. Writing is my craft. It's what I do, who I am, how I exist. It's like my mojo.

So, I guess, I've gotten my mojo back. My focus, my purpose, my essence.

And it feels good. It feels right. And I am almost understanding more now why the best writing of the best writers happens when they are older, more polished, more experienced, more rough around the edges.

When all the youthful spark has been extinguished and what's left, is the determined embers, that will not go softly, that will not die out. That will continue, fervently glowing, creating warmth and not just drawing attention from its flicker, but pulling people in by it's so…

In Remembrance

"In Flanders fields the poppies blow
      Between the crosses, row on row,."

When I was eight years old, I carried the Canadian flag in the Remembrance Day parade for our Brownie unit. I can't really remember when I realized the importance of November 11 but I can only imagine that somewhere between learning about that day at school and taking part in a very solemn ceremony that it must have been ingrained in my head to always mark this day.

   "That mark our place; and in the sky
   The larks, still bravely singing, fly"

I remember growing up, the assemblies at school, always with a older veterans, in those days many from both World Wars, would attend. When I got to high school, I remember not being able to fathom how these decorated men and women, had once been my age, had once stood up and fought, and had made these decisions during the same years I would try to decide which route to take from English to Science just to maybe catch a glimpse of my current cru…