Last year at this time, we were just making plans for them to move in with us—a temporary solution (we thought) for their situation. We rented a camper and parked it by the back door for the summer. Later, we found a great deal on a luxury 5th wheel that would work as a more permanent “home” right next to me.
In so many ways, this has been one of the hardest/fullest years I can remember. I launched two books in a six month span. Moved my parents in and sorted through decades worth of stuff. Took over a business. Started working full-time. Opened our home to a niece who needs a place to live. Wrote a movie script. Got a new grandbaby. Grieved some deep losses. Worked to make this old house presentable
for the movie…which is still in the works but so, so, slow. Continued to coach and speak.
And in the midst of it all, my mother is struggling to remember days and appointments, and names, and birthdays. I count my own years until I too will struggle. Twenty-five years? I know how fast time goes and my heart just kinda hurts sometimes. How is it that we are here, already.
In light of all this, I am giving myself permission to pause.
I need to pause some of the things I love most, like writing emails to several thousand people each week in this newsletter. I feel tears coming to my eyes at the thought of pausing, but honestly I am looking for wiggle room,
and some space to breathe.
Since 2006(!) I have written or posted online through blogs, Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, and emails. I absolutely love what I do, but burn-out—creative burn-out—is real. And though it is tempting to send out a cheery “On Vacation—Be Back Soon!” notice, it wouldn’t really be honest, and it wouldn’t feel right to pretend I’ve got it all together and I’m just “having
too much fun” to post regularly right now.
So, I’m pressing pause on my weekly emails for awhile.