Weighing the Scales of Life

Confession time, so if you're not comfortable with that, just skip.

I walked into my bedroom last night, tired after doing a day of Not Much and out of my mouth comes these words and this feeling (yes, this happens to me): What if this (life) never gets any better?

I immediately answer: This is pretty good.

I do that a couple of times, fall into bed and think a little about Heart Change and fall asleep. This morning I have dreams of a doppleganger pretending to be me, and a camera with vital photos that WAS my camera (in real life I got a new one) but I didn't take the photos and I need to get them back before political assassination goes on.

Tommy wakes me from the dream. I think I was making little distressed noises because he ALWAYS wakes me from these sorts of dreams.

But I don't get up, I think about that question I asked myself. First, whoever/whatever promised that life would always get better? And some years back I was in a dreary day-to-day life where I honestly didn't care if my life ended (then they downsized that job and I was simply terrified).

And life can get better.
Life would be better if my house was cleaner and less cluttered. See? I can do that, I can make my life better if I want to.

Life would be better if I exercised. (I believe this from past experience but have yet to get off my butt lately). See? I can do that.

Life would be better if I wrote more stories I liked, different stories than the Heart books (though I like them). See? I can do that too.

Life would be better if I was a New York Times Bestseller (yes, I want this). Now THAT I can't do. I don't have the print run to do it. My publisher can do that if they believe in me (and I think my career IS growing, slowly, incrementally, but growing). You can do that, if you like my books, you can buy them and tell people about them.

But the last section isn't within my personal reach so I shouldn't have it as a goal. I can work hard and write the best book I can with the resources I have (which I always do). You can either like the book or not, but that is the only thing in this New York Times Bestseller scenario that I can do.

I could throw money at promotion (if I had mucho), but even at my print runs, this would not make much difference (this I know).

The best I can do to make my life better is to continue what I'm doing...and try to write faster or shorter books that come out faster...

And I can de-clutter the house. And exercise. And spend more time with my friends. And if Life or Fate or the Universe wants me to have a mate, TPTB will send one my way, 'cause I think I'd have to trip over him.

Well, better get on with writing. That's the philosophy for this year or this autumnal equinox. In seasons following I may or may not burden you with philosophy again. I don't do it often, do I?

And there are more wonders out there than are dreamt of in our philosophies, so think about the wonder of life today. I'm going to buy a couple of chairs so I can work outside in the lovely weather.

May you have a kind day.
Robin