Reflections and Shifts

As this week comes to an end, I reflect on the past year of my life. You see, it was around this time, exactly one year ago, that I set out on a journey to officially shift my life from burnt out, unfulfilled, unhappy healthcare worker back to the creative and mostly positive person I have always truly been. It was on September 14, 2021 (my fortieth birthday) that I launched my writing website, my Sunday short stories, and announced my upcoming book. Some call it a mid-life crisis while I like to call it a return to my true self. Goals were set- to highlight other fantastic, artistic creatives and write a short story every single week for the next year. I had enough stories to start and honestly wasn’t sure how long it would last, but with the quirky everyday-isms that occur and the hilarious people I have been lucky enough to collect as friends along the way, I was able to meet my goal. Today marks the 52nd Sunday short story.

The week of my fortieth started like any other week. For years, I dreaded the milestone - fearing all the things that come with aging like deeper wrinkles, achy bones, mountains of responsibility, and youth fading further and further into the distance. Forty just sounded so old. My free spirited, fun loving twenty-five-year-old self would have cringed at the thought of forty on any given day. However, with the year leading up to the birthday, my mindset had significantly shifted. After personally witnessing so much death and sadness during the pandemic, I welcomed another year with gratitude and complete unconcern for gray hairs and a slowing metabolism. I don’t want sympathy for having to experience those moments in the ICU, as I am grateful for the shift it caused in my complete makeup. Honestly, it was the best and most timely gift I could have received.

The official day of turning forty came like any other day, except there was a distinct difference when I stepped out of bed at five-thirty in the morning. A sharp, uncomfortable pain shooting from my left hip all the way down to my ankle welcomed me to a new decade. “What the hell?” I thought. “I literally just turned forty and now I have a bum hip?” I wiped my tired eyes, popped an ibuprofen, and jumped in the shower hoping to shake it off. I received sweet phone calls and text messages from loved ones while getting my children dressed and ready for the day and preparing myself for work. The timer was set to launch my writing website at noon. It was all I wanted to do to celebrate the special day.

I loaded the children up around seven-thirty, limping all the way with the troublesome hip and finishing up my coffee, just hoping it would give me enough caffeine to get through school drop off. Still- I was grateful for another year. “Everyone buckled?” I asked the kids as we backed out of the driveway.

“Yes ma’am,” one half awake child replied. I drove down the neighborhood street heading toward the busier road, and that’s when it hit me- my coffee. Now, we’ve all been there before and if you say you haven’t, you are lying. It’s just a cold, hard fact of coffee drinkers’ lives. I had to think quick.

“Kids, I forgot something at the house. Give me a quick sec.” My children moaned and groaned about possibly being late to school as I popped a U- turn in the neighborhood and zoomed back to the house. I jumped out of the car and hobbled with my bum hip as fast as I could to my quick pit stop. And that’s when it happened. There are three, awkward steps leading up my back door, into the kitchen, and my newly forty-year-old self with a janky left hip tripped going up them. In one of the most emergent coffee-just-hit situations, I fell flat on my face…and you can just play choose your own adventure with what happened next. Forty had officially kicked my ass all before eight a.m.

By some miracle, I remained grateful and forced myself to see the humor in it all. I quite literally picked myself up, dusted myself off, and started all over again. Eventually the children got to school, and my website launched, but not with a few typos here and there. A few weeks later, I went to the doctor about my worsening hip, discovering I had somehow torn my labrum most likely due to overall wear and tear associated with “age”.

With the past year of writing my Sunday short stories, it has kept me in a state of gratitude and reflection, mostly because it connected me and re-connected me with so many good and solid people. It has awakened distant memories with friends and family who have shaped my life along the way. It has humbled me to the core, as I worked through whispered criticism, imposter syndrome, and judgmental opinions. And it has made me so thankful and appreciative of the supporters and readers- you will never, ever know how grateful I am for each one of you. Thank you.

As another birthday peaks around the corner, I find myself again in a heightened state of gratitude for the simple gift of life, mostly due to the tragic events that have unfolded in Memphis this past week- a city that has played a major part in my childhood and college years. The events have been yet another stark reminder of how quickly life can change (or end) and that the simple joys of being able to wake your children up in the morning should never be taken for granted.

With another birthday, marks another milestone: I will receive the galley copy of my debut novel. For anyone who is not familiar with what a galley copy is, it is the advanced copy of a book- not a finalized version but close enough. The reality of this life long, creative dream is starting to come to fruition. Excitement mixed with anxiety and almost paralyzing fear is running through me at any given time of day. Trying not to live in the negative what ifs is a daily struggle- What if no one reads it? What if they do, and it is terrible? What if people think this fiction story is true? What if they don’t understand the good intention behind it and my overall message isn’t conveyed? These what ifs make me consistently remind myself that I, or anyone, shouldn’t put energy of creative worth in the hypothetical negative opinions of others. I try instead to shift the what ifs to a more positive tone- What if I never wrote anything at all? What if I didn’t get my creativity out? What if the outcome is actually better than expected? What if readers do understand the intention and message? The ever-looming anxiety and back and forth of negative what ifs to positive what ifs is constant, but I’ve been told I wouldn’t be a true writer this wasn’t the case.

So, as I prepare for the launch of my debut novel, I will shift my weekly focus. Instead of weekly Sunday Short Stories, they will be more like monthly short stories. This will allow me to focus on the spring release of The Carter Charm, to wrap up my second novel (tentatively titled Sister Bayou), to start my third, and to delve into the busy season of my magical day job- Enchant Christmas! And while I do this, I will continue to focus on the positive energy and feedback I have gotten from those who have been so very supportive on this creative journey. Again, I can never ever thank you enough, and I am so grateful for the new friendships I have come upon this past year.

And for those of you out there who are thinking of making a shift in your life, just go for it. Take this as your sign. It’s never too late, and life is way too short. It’s constantly reminding us of how short it is- from senseless tragedies to an unwelcomed diagnosis. If someone told me a year and a half ago that I would be a writer with a flexible schedule who worked for a creative Christmas company that strongly believes in the mental, everyday health of their employees, I would have laughed in your face. Find what makes you happy and do it. Surround yourself with magical thinkers and creative forces. I love when people ask what I do for a living and I get to say, “I’m basically and elf who writes.” And it’s not a lie.

Life it tough- it’s going to do its best to rough you up on a daily basis. The everyday can be long, monotonous, and exhausting. It is no walk in the park, and it will test you on the daily. But gosh it’s also amazing with beautiful sunsets or sunrises and people of all different walks of life ready to add a little something extra to your world. So, why not figure out what makes you happy and go for it? This way, the amazing parts will always outweigh the tough parts. And to those supporters who have helped me make all the shifts this past year, whether knowingly or unknowingly, I owe you everything, but hopefully a monthly short story will suffice for now!

An Unwelcome Friend

Labor Day Decisions