Photo by Flickr user allison rose (Creative Commons license).
Good things are happening to me, left and right. A development in my professional life, to be announced soon, is so big and incredible and affirming that I sometimes sit back in my desk chair and beam upon remembering with a jolt, a dozen little such jolts each day, that this thing is happening. Forgive my vagueness.
I recently had a big breakthrough in a writing project I’ve been working on for at least two years now. The proverbial aha moment where the pieces click into place and a title comes and oh hey, this is what a book looks like just before it’s born.
My volunteer work is fulfilling. My resistance work, the bit that I can do and manage with two jobs and that pesky need for sleep, is fulfilling. My relationships, even those that have been troubled lately, are fulfilling. My son is a magnificent brilliant sensitive alien star-fire gift of love and being his mom is The Fulfilling. I am healthy. The bills are (mostly) paid and the car started this morning.
And still. Past trauma + current political climate says, hold on there, mama. Too self-assured, too solid. Here, have some anxiety about it, about all of it. Have some self-doubt. Remember who you are. Continue reading