This morning the top of my coffee cup handle fell off, leaving me thankfully holding securely onto the cup by the bottom of the handle. Such a surprise. At the very moment this happened, I was wondering if it’s time to stop telling myself I’m writing a novel, and that maybe this activity has served its purpose in my life … then kerplunk went part of the handle. It felt as if an angel or a higher power was saying, “Yes, I understand. Like this handle, right? This whole cup has also served a purpose and no longer needs to hold your coffee any more than your novel needs to hold your thoughts – read here indecision, anger, frustration, hopelessness, sadness, some eagerness from time to time … all those things a person in a new town with a new job might experience (like my character, Addy – a new manager of an inherited book store in a new town, or like myself some years ago (new apartment, new job, new life.)
With the New Year I have set up a break-neck pace of activities for myself and am getting tired. I know it’s not a good thing to exhaust myself trying to do everything all at once. I’ve waited so long to sincerely focus on my writing that it now crowds out everything else in my life. Obviously this is what it feels like to have stayed too long at the fair.
Today is definitely a letting go for me. Am I letting go of that ‘new girl in town’ frustration that my character, Addy, is experiencing – meaning I’m allowing Addy to feel more confident, now that I know where this book is heading with her character arc?
Or am I letting go of the journey I’ve been traveling for the pat 25 years? New to the working world, out on my own, not sure how it would all end, and for the last 10 years, putting all of that emotion into a character in a book I thought I was writing. Has this been Addy’s journey? or mine? Either way I know today is definitely a letting go. How opportune for that cup handle to fall off and leave a gaping hole the very instant I was having this thought.
Life sometimes works in surprising ways. Now I have even more to ponder, don’t I?