Running on About Moving on

Someday, you might reach a stage in life in which your biological balance is off at the same moment you hit the cement wall, where it is etched that no matter how much you love to write, finding a market for your talents will always be a chore—and this could happen while money is  tight, groceries prices are rising; your only daughter is scheduled to pack for college in a year and the tools (computer, camera) you depend on to get you through these nasty spells threaten you with expensive repairs—thereby provoking enough worry that you throw up your hands and apply for jobs—part-time jobs, full-time jobs, writing jobs and, sigh, jobs like the one that employed you for over twenty years.

But then, other things could happen.

For example, you could come face to face with a hummingbird,

or remember there is a writing project hovering on the horizon;

or realize—on a specific day, that even though you resorted to picking violets out of the lawn since you’ve written all you could for yourself and the house is clean and you don't want to go anywhere that could tempt you to spend money—that life resolves itself however it is supposed to, and it's likely you'll live to write about it which will make you happy especially if you do it overlooking a weed-free lawn.

And, for some odd reason this thought could trigger a reminder of two blog awards you forgot about, and, that you won a package in a blog contest that includes one of your all-time-favorite books, plus a DVD by the same name…

at which point you might offer:

a belated thank you to Robin at Your Daily Dose for the “Beautiful Blog" Award and “A Blog with Substance" Award because not only are you six weeks late in expressing your gratitude for these, but also for all the Thursdays on which she has featured you in her “Here’s to You” posts, in which she imbeds a YouTube video into her blog as a tribute to an essay you’ve written over the past week—

plus you could express:

a more current, but still tardy, thank you to Courtney at Southern Princess for running a contest in which you won a copy of To Kill a Mockingbird and a DVD of the same, you hope arrive in your mailbox soon because then, if you have another anxious period, you could stare at Gregory Peck,

and if all this were to occur, it might very well cause:

an improved outlook which inspires you to go window shopping at a place where an unexpected part-time job featuring cheese pops up (Who doesn't love a luscious gouda?) while you were pursuing another creative outlet that has potential to cover additional grocery costs, (more about this later) after which, possibly, just possibly, you would recognize that when life drags you below ground, all you can do is to inhale, exhale, and wait to float up again…because somehow, you always do.