I began Sunday evening by finishing up an 8000-word weekend. It was a part of the rough draft for a novel I’ve been working on since nanowrimo began. When I finish up a writing experience like that, I am two things: written out and high as a kite. There’s no greater high for me than a great creative session.
This one had been pretty darned wonderful. I got to know one of my characters better, an unlikeable lady if there ever was one. And I had written an awesome setting scene.
Just to let you know. I write every day. It keeps my creative juices flowing. Also it helps me solve issues that I am not sure I can solve when I start out. Like how am I going to get this character to do that thing when she will give me hell for sticking her in that situation. Once I start, one sentence leads to another and another. Pretty soon I am past the problem I thought was a problem. I have the confidence to grunt my way through.
Anyway I was checking out some of the blogs in my readers’ section. I came across a young woman’s post about living with her student debt. She wasn’t complaining. Her post was a response to another woman who wrote her boss a nasty letter. So I re-posted her post on Tuesday.
I was kind of bummed by the two posts. I started asking myself those questions you shouldn’t ask yourself when you’re tired. Questions like what has happened to my country. For that I don’t have an answer.
Then I chanced upon Mary Chapin Carpenter’s song, “Age of Miracles”, and it was like a kapow coming from Batman’s fist. It reminded me that no matter how bad things get, there is always the possibility of a miracle. I just never know what will happen to me when I turn a corner. I could very well meet someone who might change my life. Or I might run into a friend I haven’t seen in twenty years. Wouldn’t that be a WOW. I might trip over a hundred-dollar bill. Or the Huffington Post might email me and tell me how wonderful my blog is and they want to hire me full time. Now that would be a big WOW if ever there was a big WOW.
Of all the singer songwriters out there sending songs my way, Mary Chapin Carpenter’s tunes give me goose pimples more than just about anybody else I can think of. She’s the bees knees and the cat’s pajamas in my book. She’s been doing her magic for something like thirty years now and she just gets better and better. Of any artist out there, it is Mary Chapin Carpenter’s songs chronicling the life I have lived. Each song is always a surprise. “That’s me,” I cry out. “That’s me.” And there’s nobody I would rather sing it. She has the perfect voice for these chronicles.
I didn’t listen to her “Age of Miracles” once. I played it and I replayed it. I couldn’t get enough of the insights in this one, and the hope. Life can be a real bummer. It can be a real bitch. And here’s Mary Chapin reminding me life is downright awesome. While I am here bitching and moaning, there are those out there like Thich Nhat Hanh, the Dalai Lama and Pope Francis. What a miracle that is.
As I thought about miracles, I thought I would pass along something I have believed since I began this blog. Each post here is a miracle. It’s miraculous that I created the darn thing. It’s miraculous that you read it. It’s a miracle that you and I met here in cyber space and shook hands. Now that is a very big double awesome WOW.
And don’t forget that no matter your situation, no matter what you are going through, there is a miracle on the way. You can take it from Uncle Bardie. And Mary Chapin Carpenter.