I have spent the entire weekend writing, just not on this blog. I miss it. My attention is scattered.

Right now my pieces are in various states of disarray, various states of organization, various states of I don’t even know. I’m tired of looking at my own work.

I have to admit this whole “trying to get stuff ready for submission” thing is time consuming. And a bit daunting. The kind of daunting where you feel pretty good about the piece you have prepared, then realize it’s all wrong as you scrap most of it and start reworking.

Honestly, there is no pressure to be had here, other than the pressure I put on myself. I have hopes and dreams, some of them quite grand, some of them small and respectable, all of them open to allowing Life to meet me where I am at and seeing what happens. I am finding though if I don’t place some sense of expectation on myself, then how are those dreams going to happen?

I believe in miracles and gifts from the universe, but I also believe that we have to uphold our end of the bargain. Meaning, if I really want to write on a larger scale, then I have to be willing to start putting it out there. Which means a bit of pressure on oneself to follow through. The last thing I want is to be sitting here a year from now with these same goals and dreams talking about how someday I will submit, and not having taken a single step towards it.

What does someday even mean?

I don’t understand someday.

I understand now.

I keep thinking-

If not now, when?

So this is the now. I have a plan. I’ve made a goal to submit a piece a week to some sort of larger online publication or appropriate journal. I am focusing on the discipline of writing the same way I do marathon training; practice daily, make time, stretch those muscles, be patient.

I just know as I’m sitting here listening to the rain fall outside my window and smelling the crisp notes hitting the night air, that fall is coming. Change is right around the corner.

I will take my cue from the seasons and embrace metamorphosis. Old endings. New beginnings. Even if that means I have to work a little extra harder to put new energy out into the world, and trust, that Life will uphold its end of the bargain and meet me there.

The thing is, I ran a half marathon today in the rain. Water streamed down my face the entire time and I smiled up until about mile 11 when it started to hurt and I told myself only 2 miles left and no way was I giving on my pace. I didn’t. I found that a summer of running hard paid off, I placed much higher than I usually do.

I wouldn’t have the burn in my legs or the feeling of satisfaction inside at seeing my name so high in my age group, had I not bothered to race. Had I let the rain or my tiredness keep me in bed this morning. Had I decided that someday I would do a race, but not today.

The thing is that it’s past my bedtime and I am still up drinking wine and eating well earned chocolate. Listening to the sound of the rain. Maybe I’ll regret being a night owl tomorrow, but right now, right now I don’t want to be asleep missing this moment. My soul is alive. There are a million possibilities this week could hold. I don’t want to sleep yet. I just want to be in this moment.

The thing is that the work week will start tomorrow. With all of its distractions and busyness and shiny red balls that will grab my attention and deplete my energy store, unless I am intentional about its allocation.

If unintentional then this week will pass, unnoticed. Next week will pass. And the week after that will pass. And it will be very easy to continue with this non intentional living, stay in bed because of the metaphorical rain and simply let the days pass into one another.

And nothing will change.

Then before I know it, I will be writing a couple months from now about how much I would really like to submit my work, someday.

What does someday even mean?

I don’t understand someday.

Life is now. Right now. It is not tomorrow. It is not yesterday. At times we might be in different seasons in life. Some of us planting seeds. Some of us watching those seeds grow to fruition. Some of us harvesting crops. Some of us waiting out the winter until Life has prepared our soil to plant again. Some of us bored with this whole crop rotation metaphor.

Some of us just waiting to give ourselves permission for the now.

Permission granted:

Whatever Life has you, your time is now.

And for me that means keep writing and taking active steps towards my goals. Keep running so that when that trail marathon hits in November I can say I was smiling for most of it, until it started to hurt. And sacrificing a little bit of sleep for just a wee bit more time to listen to the rain fall, watch the flames flicker in the jars of candles lit nearby, choose a good book, and be in this moment.

This moment, right here. Right now.

If not now, when?