Following one's heart

Fascinating from the back, as though a map to an unknown destination.

It was an early start today, half a chapter written, then texting with my youngest daughter and enjoying photos of her sunrise a few hours east of us. I woke to clear, starry skies, but clouds have since moved in, rain forecast for the next few days. Maybe in a few days I'll have completed my novel; it's VERY CLOSE to being done, but I said that in a recent post, The End dangling like a carrot merely an arm's length away.

Meanwhile I've been stitching together Cornflower blocks each evening. The photo above was snapped last night, what I see as I sew. MANY papers to remove, but I'll deal with that later, lol.

I'm also working on another quilt, hehehe, more about that in a day or two. And the last ones for this year are washed and waiting to be given to my granddaughters on Christmas, which is just a little over a week away!

I considered today's title right after reading through the seventeen hundred words written over an hour ago. As I began this morning's chapter, my thoughts were a little scattered, but I didn't overthink what was streaming from my brain onto the document. I merely hoped it made sense, in part for having gotten up after only five hours of sleep, and for tackling a somber incident within the novel. But I've been at this long enough to just follow the muse, not fretting the outcome. And upon reading over those words, I was pretty pleased with said outcome, half a chapter left to write after I eat some breakfast.

Much about this time of year is hedged by plans; with whom to celebrate the holidays, what to buy as gifts and for stocking the fridge if parties are scheduled. There is so much to consider, as though December is one long bash with the occasional moment to snatch some sleep just to keep up with all that seems important according to culture, social media, advertising agencies, etc. However those external elements need to be silenced because outwardly December is merely another month in the calendar, and inwardly depending on one's personal beliefs it carries far deeper meanings than online retailers and typical expectations can temper. I'm ready, well almost, for Christmas in the prep stage. We're celebrating the holiday with our eldest daughter, so other than traveling, I don't need to worry about doing more than spending time with the grandgirls, their folks, my beloved, and whoever else graces their home.

But the inward reflections are more important, although time for musings seems squeezed, yet I'm trying to rectify that, and maybe I'm doing okay. Usually I'm pushing to finish Christmas sewing, but the quilts are done, hurray! I mailed the last packages on Friday, a big win. We brought over two wheelbarrows of firewood so we're not having to gather it in the impending rain. The typical sense of rush rush rush is absent this year, and I am very grateful for the calm. It's a little strange, I admit, but definitely necessary.

Maybe that calm has permeated my noveling efforts; the book will end when it does, and that's fine too. Futzing around with a new quilt is merely to keep myself active. Maybe I'm subconsciously coming to terms with growing older and not having the energy to do a million things all at once like when I was younger, ahem. Past Me and Future Me are conspicuously silent on this, and that's fine. All I know is that today is a week out from Christmas Eve and other than wrapping up a novel, little else feels pressing. I'll light an extra Advent candle tonight, a pink candle symbolizing joy, how totally apt for all that waits. Recognizing and embracing life's joys is imperative, despite all that seems dismal and insurmountable. Maybe we need to be reminded how vital are our lives without the trappings of commerce and expectation.

We are here to love and care for each other. May this week bring you these gifts, and the opportunity to share them!