With the end of 2016 I found myself with a few loose ends to tie up, something that I spent all of this month working on until this point. Now that everything is behind me and I have a chance to take stock and catch my breath I find myself at one of those points in life where I can just sit and reflect.
To be perfectly honest this is a very comfortable spot to be. It is easy to fall into the belief that there is nothing making demands of me, even though I know that come February I need to begin reviewing and revising my second book. There is a peace that comes from having everything in order, and being able to consider all my projects with the realization that they are complete (for the moment anyway). Now I can sit, and just enjoy peace as I let my thoughts roam where they will without having to worry about how I am going to write that next paragraph, or scene, or section, or chapter.
But even as I sit here there is this feeling in the very back of my mind, just gnawing at my thoughts. At first it is easy to ignore, but as time goes on it becomes more and more irritating. Before long I’ll even begin to feel guilty that I haven’t started work on something new.
It would be nice if I could tell you that this was something romantic like a life philosophy. “You cannot sit idle for too long because that way leads to stagnation. You just can’t do it.” In reality it isn’t anything so carefully thought out. I can’t even call it a drive. It is more of a compulsion, one earned after sitting idle for years with no change until I was nearly bored to tears.
So even now I can feel it will be time to press on before long. I know where I am now, and while it isn’t terrible I know it isn’t where I want to be. I honestly can’t tell where my current path will bring me. Sometimes that frightens me. Sometimes it leaves me filled with doubt. Still, that is a far better than suffering the discomfort that comes to me when I stay still.