Wishful Thinking

The weather is turning, windy and cool with that delicious hint of decay and burning that fall always brings, and I have been writing quite a bit, though not quite a poem a day. I have several new and interesting events coming up: presenting at the Winter Wheat Writing Festival in Bowling Green, Ohio, this coming weekend; doing a poetry reading at a TGIFriday’s two days before Thanksgiving (yes, TGIFriday’s – I don’t know how it will work, either!); and another reading at the lovely Fine Arts Building on Michigan Avenue in Chicago. My son is coming home for Thanksgiving, and I am actually on top of things at work instead of frantically behind and scurrying to catch up.

Life is good. Better than good. Awesome, actually.

So why the wishful thinking? Last night, I went to a reception at the Writer’s Workspace in Chicago with my friend and fellow poet Kristin LaTour. It is a beautiful haven for writers – attractive, contemporary space, both social and private, filled with a library and original art in a historic Chicago neighborhood. Talking to some of the people there, people who spend hours of their time involved in creative pursuits daily, I started to think forward to when I will have that sort of time. Now, I catch my time to create on the fly – when dinner is made and workouts are done, when papers are graded and planning complete, when laundry and yardwork and – you get the idea – when these and more are all done, I have time to write. So, I find myself a little green with envy at those who have that time. And more firmly committed to using the time I DO have well.

Life is good. Better than good. Awesome, actually.

But there’s no reason it can’t get better.

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