I like to know things. I’m not talking about translations of Latin phrases, dates in history, or how to flush a carburetor.
The things I want to know are:
- Will my son’s broken foot heal properly even if he sometimes neglects to wear his boot cast?
- Will I ever have sufficient time and money to travel to Buenos Aires?
- How long will it take me to finish writing my novel? (And when I do, will anyone want to publish it?)
I do know that as much as I would like to have the answers to those questions, right now I need to see if I can figure out how to make a living wage, take care of my kids and still have time to write.
I remind myself that if I knew exactly how to manage all of that, there might not be any more glorious sneak-up-from-behind-unaccounted-for surprises. (Like the offer I received recently to teach two creative writing classes as an adjunct at a local college! Did anyone see that one coming?)
And so, I’ve decided that a healthy dose of restlessness is a good motivator. But I also have to admit that there are times when the only option is to simply sit tight and wait. So this is what I’ve figured out: it’s all a conspiracy. Someone out there in the cosmos is trying to teach me patience. (And all I can say is: Ha! Good luck.)