I set up this site and made a post in each of the three categories I decided on: posts about this site, posts relating to writing the book, and posts about the physical aspect of getting ready to travel to England next spring.
Since then I have set up the writing space for my essays and have the first one roughed out. I have decided to try and write one a week and am aiming for at least 1000 words, hopefully more. Yesterday I put my pedometer in my pocket and did an exploratory walk around my community, scoping things out and figured out that with my stride, there are 2880 steps in a mile.
Having accomplished this, why don’t I feel better? I think it is too easy, too organized; I’m a master planner and a weak follower-througher. But interests and habits form, despite our best efforts to get in our own way. I have been researching this family line full-time for six years now. I am still walking, I have put the pedometer back in my pocket again. I am in a place where I can choose better nutrition for myself; I have a chef cooking my meals. I have miles of wooded walking trails now, not a concrete loop in front of my home where I imagined myself at 85 walking around and around, pointlessly, 10 times to the mile. I have potential walking partners, a swimming pool, wii bowling, a garden in front of me that needs my care.
Care. That’s the key, time and care: “It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important.” ~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry