Life in the lowlands

I don't like living life on the cusp of depression, but it seems that's where I spend most of my time. Thinking that way makes it difficult to live in any moment. I have to wonder how many wonderful opportunities I have missed by being so preoccupied.

A friend of mine recently pointed out that I seem to be more frightened of the future than I am unhappy with the present. Or maybe I am so afraid of screwing up that I never really decide and commit to making changes.

I want to be passionate and determined and inspired and I'm struggling to get there. I'd settle for two out of three. I have reasons for being depressed. Who doesn't? I could list them, but in Life and the World, these are universal constants; the loss of a love, the death of family and friends, of seeing dreams become harder and harder to envision and pursue, even the unavoidable effects of getting older.

I want to take my life experiences in stride and become a better person, not let it beat me down. I have no illusions that I will age gracefully; I want to do more – contribute more to this world than simply being a good friend. That's a noble albeit sentimental mission. But it's also another way to avoid failing at doing something bigger or more difficult.

The first thing I need to do is to get back onto my writing schedule. The same schedule I used for NANOWRIMO - 2,000 words per night, 6 nights each week. And the second goal is to spend one hour every night working on either getting the manuscript formatted to send, writing my cover letter or finding editors (appropriate) and agents to submit the manuscript. Wish me luck. It can't hurt.