It is five in the morning, the Sunday before Christmas. The year is coming to a close. And I think I can safely say that I have grown.
I feel a different energy in me. Something more sustained and sustainable that I've ever had. I sit quietly from time to time and just feel it, in my heart, in my gut, in my brain. Sometimes it's warm, sometimes it's magnetic, sometimes it is liquid and sometimes effervescent.
I hope to be in constant conversation with this energy all my life. Creativity I'm beginning to believe is a state of conversation. Sometimes we go off and have this conversation with ourselves, taking great care to make sure that our contribution to the conversation of civilization is the best it can be.
Sometimes we just blurt it out. But what's important is that we show up, seeking to understand and be understood.
Today, I just want to rest in gratitude for this wonderful year. Last year it ended with money. This year with some stature. An award and a great writing credit.
Next year, I have to score a book deal if I'm going to continue writing.
But that's just writing. If I'm going to continue being happy, sustaining the mild happiness that is so essential to writing, I'm going to have to keep meditating. I'm going to have to continue cultivating compassion. I'm going to have to work on going to bed early in my tidy home.
Above all I'm going to have to continue believing that my happiness is of greater benefit to the world than my misery.
