I've been all over the place lately--not literally, that's starting in November, but mentally. Freelancing is not a business for the faint of heart or the weak, and I so often feel like I'm both of those. The highs are high and the lows make me not want to get out of bed, ever. There are days I wonder if I shouldn't use the health insurance I finally have to get something to purge those, to make me just feel one thing, or nothing, but I don't, I just keep hoping I learn to be better, to make better work, get on more stable ground, not constantly second guess every decision, big or small. That's a tough way to live.
I feel like I'm forced to have faith--in myself, my books, the universe, my choices. Maybe it's misplaced faith, but it's all I've got. So for today, I can say I'm grateful that I got to see some art like this sculpture at MoMA with my guy on Monday, and took notes on a new assignment in the lobby. As guilt-prone as I am, I am taking November, my birthday month, for myself. I'll be in Northampton, New Jersey, New York, San Francisco, Albuquerque and Austin, but most important, I'll be in my own space and time as much as I can be. I'll be doing NaNoWriMo because I'm pretty certain that the lack of book writing is what's holding back every area of my life. Logically, I know it's not like, write a book, get all your dreams granted, but I do know that allowing myself to settling for writing small has allowed me to settle for being small, for thinking less of myself, for kowtowing to those voices, internal and external, who are sure I can't do it. I'm finally ready for that ultimate leap of faith, even though most of the time lately I feel more than a bit befuddled by where my life is supposed to be going, where I'm supposed to be. Maybe I need to walk into the fog and wade through it, spin myself around until I'm dizzy, before the path clears. That's what I'm hoping. In the meantime, one second at a time. That's my pace these days. Working up to a minute, and a day, and a step forward at a time.