There is no doubt that 2020 has been challenging for most of us. Elections, economic downturns, social upheaval, Brexit, and Covid just to name a few.
I began 2020 with lofty goals. I was going to get married…and have a ‘real’ wedding’ this time. I was going to write one million words – #1Mwordsin2020. And a plethora of other ambitions as well.
I did get married. Ten days before they suspended all weddings in the UK. But there was no ‘real wedding.’ It was just me, Alan, @PanKwake, and a couple of close friends that could suspend everything else they were doing at 3 p.m. on a Wednesday. Our photos of the momentous occasions were shot by @PanKwake on her iPad. All of them have a yellow tinge. Oh, and we had to bribe her with stuffies from the Disney Store to get her there at all. Our ‘reception’ was the three of us going to TGI Fridays after shopping. Then we came home and finalized preparations for lockdown, including getting friends to witness last-minute, DIY wills. Not how I had imagined it.
As for 1,000,000 words in 2020, not even close. Well, I did edit 1,228,453 words this year. But I only wrote 552,470. An average of 1,505 per day.
Wait a minute. Only?!?
Yes, that’s the point of WHY I believe in setting goals. Even if most of us never achieve them. By working towards something that was unlikely or a stretch at best, I wrote more words in a year than many writers do in a lifetime. No, they were not all fiction. Yes, many of them were total crap. But I wrote something, anything for 317 days this years. So, I missed 49. That is less than one day off per week.
Would I do it again? That 1M words goal?
Yep, in fact, that is my goal for 2021, too. I’m not off to the best start, admittedly. Oh, I changed my New Year. Yeah, you read that right. As a goddess worshipper, I decided to go back to the old ways. My new year began at Winter Solstice. So, I am already twelve days into it. My average words so far is a mere 1,159 per day. Then again I took five days out of those twelve off for the holidays. (I need to try not to do that again.)
So, where do we go from here?
Tomorrow and Sunday, I will post the finale to Angel’s Fate. Then on Monday, we will get back to Trouble Texas Style. I hope to finish it by Valentine’s Day. Spring Equinox at the latest.
I need to work on organizing this website a bit better, too. Because soon these stories will join the other finished and edited on my Books page.
That is another goal for this year – to edit all my completed stories and post them here.
I am still figuring out what if anything I want to do beyond this. I have a couple of other free sites that I have posted at, which have begun to gain a following. And I still have a handful of books (mostly outdated editions) on Amazon. I’m not all that interested and don’t need to make a living from my art. But I do want to get these stories into as many hands as possible.
Because as I have said before storytellers are the architects of our futures. They draw the blueprints of what could be. And since we entered the nuclear age and Cold War, that picture has been pretty dark. Is it any wonder that depression and suicide are soaring?
Yes, things are tough. Heck, they may get tougher still. I know beyond all shadow of a doubt that I will not live to see them turn around. But I believe from the bottom of my heart that we have the potential to do better and be more.
I have heard it said that this age in which we live is a transition. Having been through labor a few times, let me tell you – transitions SUCK! It is the absolute most painful part of birth. With one contraction coming on the back of another, sometimes so quickly that you cannot catch your breath. You scream and yell and cuss and swear you will never do this again. You blame your partner; it’s all his fault; he did this to you.
Then you get to push and there is a burst of energy. You have the goal in sight. You can do this.
Then you see and hold that baby. You hear that cry. And everything was worth it.
Yes, there is still loads of work to be done. Sleepless nights with feedings every two hours. Colic. Poopy diapers. Terrible twos. And worse yet…the teen years.
But it was worth it.
Our jobs right now is the birth a new world. A more sustainable and regenerative way of living. A more compassionate and equitable place for all. Even my beloved @PanKwake won’t live to see the fulfilment of that dream. But we are building for that 7th generation. Our children’s children’s children’s children’s children’s children.
And at the same time as we are birthing and nurturing that new life, we must simultaneously hospice an old system that no longer works for us (and probably never did for most people). We need to do that with compassion. In such a way that the new is not built on the blood of the old. That never works well.
Those are some pretty big goals. Way more than a mere 1,000,000 words per year.
Personally, I feel incredibly blessed to be where I am right now. As a being standing upon the cusp of my wisewoman years, I look forward to midwifing both the death of the old and the birth of the new.
I believe we all have a part to play in that process. And now is a wonderful time to reflect on where you have been and who you are, the values that you hold dear, and what you feel is your calling. Yes, none of us are too old to have a calling.
So, please join me on this wonderful roller coaster ride we call LIFE. There’s gonna be bumps, dips, curves, and screams. But just as with any labor, it is worth it in the end.
But we are far from the end just yet.
Goddess bless and ignite your vision,
P.S. That was the first sunrise of 2021. Not a bad start, eh?