Write a Better Story

There's an edge of melancholy as fall is winding down, combined with yesterday's rain, the oranging trees (meaning the peak of colour is past and only bareness is left to come), along with the heavier blanket of snow on the mountains.

It's all beauty and for this I am grateful, but there is the foreboding of what's to come: cold and piles of snow and short days with long nights and the inevitable anniversary of Brent's death.

As the months grind on, the reality is setting in that it's impossible to maintain the same pace of completing maintenance and chores and tidiness at home with just as much work as ever and only one of me to do the work.

Am I complaining? No, just reporting facts that don't thrill.

I leave tomorrow for Donald Miller's Storyline Conference in Nashville and while it should be exciting, to tell you the truth, my introverted side is feeling awfully shy about being in a crowd of strangers, unknown by anyone. If I hadn't already spent a boatload to book the conferences way back when I thought it sounded like a good idea ("Write a better story with your life"), I would bail and not go. Am I the only person who looks at life this way sometimes? Or maybe I just need to get more sleep. Ha!

Update: I went, it was good. I made new friends. When grieving loss, sometimes it works to push oneself out of isolation into safe places of interaction. Listen to your own body. Your timing might be different than mine. And that's okay.