As I finished up my Solstice day in relative quiet (I did shout aloud about my first sale on The Raven's Cauldron) and solitude, I began cleaning out old notebooks that I hadn't opened since I left Ohio. It was strange to see someone else's handwriting again after all this time, it was stranger still to realize that I didn't feel a need to read what he'd written. Instead, I tore all the pages from the wire coils and put them into the recycling bin. I didn't feel sorrow or anger or any other negative emotion, just a sense of accomplishment for having clean notebooks. What a wonderful feeling of fresh beginnings.
I did find some important pages tucked in all the notes and such, though. One was the write-up for a sweater I had designed and would like very much to work out various sizes. Another was the beginning of a story that still fills me with anticipation at seeing how it will turn out. That just might be the story for next year's NaNoWriMo. I'll need to do a little research about getting permission to use lyrics in it, but that can wait until the holiday season is over. I also came across a letter from Anthony that he wrote just before The Crucible. How my heart jumped when I read the words of my first born as he was preparing to get through something I couldn't even imagine.
This morning I think about how lucky I truly am. My son is in another state but we talk a couple times a week. My daughter is leaving in a couple months, but I'll be sending her letters weekly or more. My Dad is far from me, but he is well and we talk once or twice a week. I have friends who celebrate my successes and cheer me on. I may not have all the wealth and acquaintances that some people have, but I have so much abundance and love and that really is all that matters.
To those who are feeling strain, I send you prayers. To those who have abundance, I send you prayers, too.