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| The lovely cover of my book. Thank you Jeph Blanchard |
How many times have you left the house to go on vacation, only to start worrying that you forgot to shut off the oven? It's a horrible feeling. You may be really far down the road when that feeling hits you or, if you're lucky, just a few blocks away.
That's what it feels like when you realize that maybe you aren't where you should be, and you aren't doing what you were meant to do.
I remembered to "shut off the oven" today.
Today is the day that the Sorcha that inspired this blog came to life. It's the first time in a very long time that I don't feel like I've gotten too far down the road to turn around and do what I should always have been doing. It's the most amazing feeling.
The closest thing I know how to equate it to is something our oldest dog used to do. We taught Blue how to sit, shake hands and roll over. He got a treat whenever he obeyed any one of these commands. At a point, he started to do all of these things at once any time we commanded him to do any one of them.
Right now, I'm somewhere between tears and ridiculous grinning. I can't decide from one moment to the next which I should be doing; so I know that I am kind of doing both.
I don't have dreams of grandeur in the least. I elected to self-publish my novel as an e-book on Amazon.com. I'm not going to live in the same literary zip code as Stephenie Meyer or Charlaine Harris any time soon. It's not about garnering some great fortune. It's not about having my book turned into a full length feature film or a television series.
It's about completing unfinished business with my very soul. It's about finally being true to who I have always quietly been.
The great thing about this feeling, is it feeds the desire to feel it again. Success, no matter how tiny it might measurably be, is such an amazing rush. I already want to feel it over and over.
The craziest thing about getting here is how far I got down the road before I realized that I forgot to "shut off the oven," and how willing I almost was to keep driving whilst knowing that everything in my life was potentially going to go up in flames. I know how extreme that sounds, but when you aren't following the most basic advice William Shakespeare ever shared--"To thine own self be true"--I am convinced that's exactly what will happen to you. The fire may be a slow burn, but eventually, you will resent all the miles you put between yourself and your "house" before you went back to save it.
Two people really helped me. It's as if they phoned me or texted me in the car to remind me that there was a wealth of stuff worth saving, and I really should just turn back around. And while I make a habit not to name names in my blog, I'm breaking with that today. Jeffrey Bishop simply took the time to enthusiastically explain the process to me. His unabashed exuberance was disarming. And my own Jeph needled me day after day, and month after month to work on my book and to put it on the flash drive over and over. Without them, I would probably still be driving and driving.
I also want to thank the face of Sorcha. I had a vision in my mind of what she looks like. My friend Ginnifer Jobgen looks very different than what I had in my mind's eye, but in the days since she and her husband Jason struggled to finally get a photo of her ginger-haired awesomeness without a shit-eating grin on her face, she has become my Sorcha.
Tomi Mix deserves a shout out for being the first person to purchase my book, but also for being moved enough to share a quote from it on her Facebook page today. There's nothing like seeing your own words mean something to someone else. These were the two moments that nearly brought me to tears today. I will never forget them.
And finally, my friend Anastasia, who has become ever so much dearer to me of late happened to be here this weekend for a Lumineers concert. I knew that at some point my book would get published, but she was with me today when it really happened. She and I have been going through rough times, luckily together. There's something about people who are there for you at some of the hardest times. When something wonderful happens, it's even more fantastic to share it with them, because they know how much you have been battling everything else. When I look back on today, and this fantastic moment, I will remember that she's the person I was with when I could breathe the sigh of relief that the "oven" is finally "off." I love her dearly, and I hope that she gets back to her own "oven" as soon as she can. She deserves it, too.
I said today that this was a giant and small day. It's because accomplishing this changes everything, and at the same time, it changes very little. I'm not going to be able to quit my "day job" as they say. But I am going to remember this feeling of wonderful, and I am going to want to feel it again. So I am going to go back to the fragments of another book, with other voices that whisper to me when I am in the middle of the "drive."
I don't know what will happen tomorrow. But I do know that everyone deserves moments like this. We live both too short and too long to find ourselves driving down the road and worrying that we have forgotten ourselves, or that some piece of ourselves is somehow missing.
No matter where you are on your journey, you can always turn the car around. You can always "turn off the oven."
Beautiful Day--U2
Link to download "Soul Seeker" on Amazon.com
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