Ok, I was supposed to take the summer off to write my novel. Well, how did that go Linshaolin? Funny you should ask — terrible. Brain freeze, family drama, workload, home repairs, doing my nails, heart murmur, cost of gas, mood altering meds, Law and Order . . . in other words, I found every excuse not to write. For Heaven’s sake why? Fear, gut-wrenching, sweat producing, fear of failure. Yes, instead of writing I used power tools. I planted two million tomato plants. I painted my home office taupe. I made it through part 38 of Form 42 in Tai Chi class. I went to a Tibetan monastery and put labels on their party invitation envelopes. I chanted, meditated, studied the dharma, became part of a sangha, did the loopty loop, and pretended that I was not afraid.
So, is my writing career dead in the water before I even jumped into the pool? No way. I figure that another eleven sessions with my shrink will do the trick. We got up to the point where I sobbed while remembering that I could not write within the lines in third grade — then he went on holiday. “Hold that traumatic moment. We are out of time.” I know deep in my heart that once I unearth the memories of getting my first C- (essay about Martha Washington, seventh grade) and survive them that my fear of being a total, miserable, laughing stock writer will fade. I will spend my Autumn in glorious purple prose.
Meanwhile, while I was away I met an amazing cat. He is a neighborhood cat — every Sunday at 9 AM the doors open at the church to let in the members of the Unitarian Universalist Buddhist Fellowship so that we can have our meditation practice — and, like clockwork, the cat wanders up the street and through the door and joins the meditators for a quiet half hour. When the finish bell rings three times and we begin to stir, the cat leaves and goes home. We have named him Shadow. I am sure he is an enlightened being.
Despite the joy of the Buddhist shadow cat, this was a difficult summer. My dearest friend’s son died. My heart is still aching over this loss. Another dear friend’s sister is battling cancer. My nephew (who suffers from autism) had to be hospitalized again. My health declined as the Parkinson’s continues its relentless march. Yet, despite these immense sorrows, I continue to see the world as a bright and glorious place. And I am happy to be back at the blog — so many handbags to tell you about, so many scientific discoveries to report. I do hope you are all still out there!
