Only Good Things To Come

Hello everyone! First, let me wish you all a happy and healthy New Year. God knows we need as many of these blessings and well wishes as the heavens can provide.

I realize it’s been quite a long time since my last post, and apologies aside, I have to admit I’ve missed connecting with you all. Sometimes the best lifelines are the most unexpected ones. But it was necessary for me to pull back. The truth was up to that point I had been lagging behind and terribly (~sigh~) in the editing process of my next book, and I figured this snail lady better get her ass in gear.

Unfortunately, for me, things did not quite pan out as I’d planned. Long story short, I got two months in with the book before FEMA came calling. And calling. First working all the COVID vaccination sites scattered across the US, then during the last week of August, I got deployed to New York to help those in need get back on their feet after Hurricane Ida. Which is where I still am, four months later and freezing my ass off under sweaters I’ll probably never wear again.

The bright spot in all this when I deploy is FaceTime. It allows my associate Meghan, now 7, and me to go through the motions of a shared life with things we’d usually do together: read, sing songs, and carry on a conversation about how her day went at school. If I’m lucky, I get a snippet of dialogue out of her because she’s already onto the next thing like a nectar forager bee flitting from flower to flower. And that’s despite all the WD40 I’ve pulled out as ammo.

From an observation standpoint, Meghan is indicative of who we are, collectively. People with short attention spans and very much human. When tragedy and disaster strikes (and as of late, there’s plenty of that shit to go around), we’re glued to our screens. Our empathy copiously flows out to those who’ve perished in floods, tornadoes, fires, their families, looking on in horrified disbelief at the homes ripped from their roots, flattened like match sticks by Mother Nature doing her worst.

But then the river of empathy slows. It diverts itself to some place else as those still picking up the pieces of their lives slip quietly to the back page of yesterday’s news.

It’s a sad reality. A reality of humanity all the same. Does that mean we’re heartless creatures? No, absolutely not. We’re just people trying to figure out how to get through the day in one piece.

Needless to say, the past two years have affected us all in the most unimaginable ways. Financially, spiritually, mentally, depleting us to the soul level. And if these two years have taught us anything at all, it’s how fragile life is; to cherish those moments we have and don’t take anyone or anything for granted.

Today is what I have. That much I know. And I hope whatever days are yours, you do something incredible. I hope you find the love and joy within and without. I hope you stir the passion pot, build the most amazing things, step courageously into the dark, and live the dream that is yours alone.

Peace. Hugs. Thanks.