We’re back on the map! And to think, all it took was what it always takes – a lifetime and a moment, the Hand of God and walking in His will. Tonight what that looked like was a little pushing of the envelope of self beyond the elliptical-induced-knees-talking-shudda-wudda-gone-to-run-in-the-pool-instead, itchy, scratchy, gotta go to be but not before eating-everything-that-isn’t-in-the-doggy-dish, receiving the prophesying of Pastora Dinorah Jimenez, and staying up waaaay past bedtime. For my reward, I encounter this Night of Writing Dangerously poster at NaNoWriMo while looking for details on the annual book drive. If only I were in SanFran to dance my way to a higher word count. If only pigs did fly. If only I had a why to write, to paraphrase Frankl, who deserves so much more, I could live with almost any what. In any case, thanks be to the Great Ink Slinger in the Sky, at least this much we know is true, this is how!
