One Less Thing

I realized my self-talk whispers “ok, one more thing” over and over each time a new daily challenge arrives. This came to my attention when suddenly I experienced a fifteen minute window where I soaked in the joy of One-Less-Thing instead.

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My car dashboard mirrors my life with its scattered warnings. The tire maintenance light is forever “on”. I’ve had 5 nail punctured tires over 5 months.

The service engine light greets me each morning. The oil change guy hooked up a gadget reader to tell me the light is nothing to worry about, but I wonder. The brake light won’t go out even when the emergency brake is released. I stopped looking up what the other lights mean in the manual.

The dashboard reminds me of the running narrative in my mind. It goes something like this: I’m still sick. Stress is not helping me get well. Drop the kid off at school. Go to work. Repeat. My voice refuses to come back. The cat puked. -One more thing. I need to make dinner. Sweep the house. Keep trying to sell the house. Clean the bathroom. Move the laundry. I really should write a letter or send a care package to our deployed son. What just fell off the house?! -One more thing. If you sit down, you’ll fall asleep. Get up. Give Hubby the light weight fork because it is easier for him to manage. Position his shoes in a way that will help him be less likely to fall. Move his phone to his next location so he is not thrown off balance by carrying something when he travels inside the house. Help the remaining kid with college applications. I need to go to Lowe’s. Heavy duty caulk. A new vacuum bag. Take out the trash and recycling. Prepare for presentations at work. Who do I need to call back? Have I followed through on all work tasks? Scoop litter box. Check personal email to see if anyone has responded to my manuscript query letters. Send more queries. Do we have gas in both cars? Pay bills in a way that hopefully does not cause an overdraft. It’s going to be close again this month. Is Hubby breathing? Is the cat breathing? I really need to make a vet appointment. -One more thing. There are other people I want to check in with. I text them. There are other people I would like to be there for. My capacity is too narrow. I can’t believe he hasn’t been able to work for a year. We need some mobility equipment. That will have to wait. The kid needs an eye appointment. -One more thing. I can’t make that work financially. How many hours of sleep can I get if I go to sleep right this minute? Why can’t I fall asleep? And so forth.

I try not to complain out loud. “Just keep swimming” as Dory says. But seriously, if there is a Santa out there who wants to buy our house so we can leave and start over, that would be GREAT.

Today I uprooted this tree growing into our fence and felt delighted by the image. Yes, we are ready to be uprooted.

In an attempt to make extra cash, I placed an ad to be a Pet Sitter. I can squeeze in dog walking and more cat litter scooping. I can love on animals and give neighbors peace of mind. The first response? Someone needs help with a cat until they get out of jail in February. So many thoughts. Bless their heart. Sigh….

One day I will not feel so stuck. I visualize selling a manuscript and being in an affordable and accessible home. One day I’ll be in the land of all three. I have learned hard lessons. I can do better.

This week our youngest got a job. Go kid! And he broke my heart by saying, “You won’t have to worry about Christmas, Mom, ’cause I’ll be able to buy my own presents.” The sentiment is good. The reality hurts.

A new job means he needs new pants. We make a plan to go to the store Wednesday. I secretly stress about how to afford the pants, but I think we can make it work. I don’t want him to know how close we are cutting it.

On Tuesday evening I drag my work bag into the house as the guys say, “We have a surprise.”

There on the kitchen table are new pants one day early. Hubby even used a coupon. In my book, that’s hot. Hubby had a decent afternoon and they worked together. I hear that the wheelchair got stuck in the JCPenny door, and they figured that out too.

In the moment, I physically felt something fall off the to-do list. One. Less. Thing. This felt magical. I soaked in the joy for fifteen intentional minutes. I smiled in my own home. This surprise felt so good!

This was a glimpse that things can be better. Will be better. I will trust the process.

To all those who struggle, I send you a giant cyber hug. You can do this. We can do this. Deep, slow breaths.

And now I must go.

The cat puked.

Love,

Glenna

What We Think vs. What Is, Plus Tea

Dear People,

I admired her. I wanted her to like me. I hoped we’d be friends.

And–I was fairly sure she didn’t think anything at all about me.

That lady was busy doing important things that I liked being part of even if on the fringe. She might not have known my first and/or last name.

I attempted a conversation or two. I doubted my spoken words connected to her brain.

Isn’t that how it goes sometimes? We like someone. We share similar ideas with them. They do work we think is cool. We are confident they have zero interest in getting to know us.

Years later she calls me. Wha…wha…what?

She wants to meet at a restaurant.

So I go.

And it turns out she likes my brain too.

She has been reading my blog and asks me to help her think through a couple things.  Then she asks me to pray for her weekly in the months ahead as she works on a project.

I say…ok.

Like, O and K together softly, genuinely.

Before agreeing I took a few seconds to think about whether I could fit her request into my life. Which, I gotta say, is one of my most grown up moments. To consider if I could make time for something new, to think about if I could honor her and my word, ah, yes, that is an adult moment for me.

Connection isn’t always obvious, dear readers. Sometimes less is more. We don’t have to force anything. Be present. Be kind. Carry on. Don’t compromise. Be you. Things come around if they are meant to be.

This example gives me hope that a relationship with a literary agent will come into my life too. It’s happened for others. It will happen for me too. I’ve written two novels in three years (dog gone it) while in the midst of serious life changes.

The pressure is on and off at the same time. My coal is being pressed. I’m learning all I can about who might be my #DreamAgent. It will happen. I know you’re out there.

Until then I am sipping Hot Cinnamon Spice tea on a Sunday morning. I’ve learned that quality tea and taking time to breathe is valuable. I’m putting my mug out there and wishing peace for you and your dreams too.

Love,

Glenna

 

4 People You Meet at a Writers Conference

Pic 4 People You Meet at a Writers ConferenceI have lost count of how many professional seminars and trainings I have sat through in my adult life.  This year I set a goal to attend a writers conference.  I declared that intention out loud to my Masterminds group October 2017.

Then the day before I would be on the Masterminds “hot seat” again May 7, 2018 I knew it was time to report on my goals.  Eek!  I had the Blue Ridge Mountain Christian Writers Conference (#BRMCWC) on my calendar over nine months.  How could I go to my accountability group with anything less than a booked reservation?  I checked and there was still room.  I reserved my spot 14 days before the BRMCWC.

The first night at dinner I carried my food tray through the cafeteria asking God to lead the way.  I knew no one.  I fought back nerves and slight loneliness.  A group of wonderful ladies welcomed me to sit at their table.  Whew!  I felt relief.  And go figure, one of the first people I met, Lilly, was from Alamogordo, NM.  That is the same town where my adult son lives.  She came a long way to Black Mountain, NC.  I found comfort in her presence.

The next person I met said she was returning after this conference crushed her dreams four years ago.  She described running away in tears last time.  Alrighty then.  I whispered to God, I’m a big girl, but You’ve got this right?

From that moment forward, I enjoyed meeting a new-to-me world of people:

Professionals.  Literary agents, publishers, promoters, and editors really do exist.  I studied in college and since have read hundreds of articles and books about them.  I’ve written query letters to them.  I’ve received rejection letters from them.  They are real people flesh and all.  I met with eight professionals in publishing over the course of the week.  I appreciate their wisdom.

Inspirational Folks.  A couple times each day attendees gathered to listen to keynote speakers.  I leaned in to hear what they said and made notes to bottle their encouragement so that I can revisit their words.  I value the paths they’ve forged.

New Friends.  It was fun to listen to other writers talk about their work and lives!  We celebrated one another and exchanged contact information.  I am still in touch with several authors and it is wonderful to feel part of the writing world!  Take Kelly A. Wypych, for example.  Kelly ran 100 miles consecutively in April.  100 miles!  Her blog is great and her Instagram posts @kawypych sing to my soul.  Here’s a pic of Kelly and me at our first writers conference together:Kelly Wypych and Glenna S. Edwards at BRMCWC May 2018

You. You know how you can’t really see yourself, but you walk around in the body that is “you”?  Yeah, that’s a weird thought, but sometimes I suspect we disconnect from the most authentic “you” there is.  We spend each day with eyes that see outward but can’t see our 360-degree self easily.  When I walked by mirrors or spoke into mirrors to prepare for my book pitches I felt like I was meeting myself for the first time.

Hello, You.  Hello, Writer. 

Oh, you’ve been a writer at heart since 4th grade? 

How interesting.  Nice to meet You.

It was good to spend some time with the you that is me.  I think part of personal growth involves getting to know ourselves better.

I give thanks to God for all the people at BRMCWC and for all that I learned.  I thank Him for leading my path.  It was a wonderful experience.

Psalm 9:1  I will give thanks to you, Lord, with all my heart;  I will tell of all your wonderful deeds.

Glenna