The Week of Me

I have declared this week to be “The Week of Me.” For the first time in a long while, I have no weeknight meetings or commitments. My calendar is entirely blank! On the writing front, I want to make good progress with my weblog conversion to Moveable Type, and also get my writing studio tidied up so it’s a more comfortable workspace.

I’ve also been thinking about the path to my next book.

A few weeks ago, Shawn and I did an overnight cross-country ski trip with some friends. We dropped our gear off near the cabin where we would stay, and then drove to a parking lot further away to begin our planned afternoon ski back to the cabin. The weather was very warm, almost above freezing, which made the snow wet and slick. For the first few hours, I had practically no grip on my skis because I didn’t have the proper wax.

The daylight hours passed as I struggled up hills, falling in the thick heavy snow, not wanting to stop lest the guys get too far ahead. When dark fell, we still had another five kilometres to ski. My friend Jeanette had a headlamp but I, alas, had not thought to bring mine. So we decided to proceed with me in front, Jeanette behind, lighting the path for both of us with her headlamp.
Even though I was tired and sore and hungry and desperate to get to the cabin after five hours of skiing, this dark leg of the trip was my favourite. With the light behind me, I was chasing my shadow, watching it herringbone up inclines and stride along the flats. The path was illuminated by the circular glow of the headlamp, and I could match my pace to Jeanette’s without even looking around, the light telling me how far she was behind me.

The path was narrow, marked by dark pine trees on either side. At times we had to crouch down on our skis to duck under tree branches. I called out when we came to a downhill stretch, and we ran the short hills and took off our skis for the longer ones.
As we skied I thought about how you can get to where you’re going, even if you can only see a few feet at a time, as long as you’re on the right path. You don’t have to see the whole route, just the section you’re walking right now.

So rather than mapping my entire journey to a finished book, I’ve been thinking about which path would take me there if I just kept my head down and travelled a few steps at a time. This path will be about routine, how I spend time every day, and make decisions, rather than achieving certain goals or arriving at a particular milestone.

I’ve ordered two books to assist my thinking on this: Living Your Joy: A Practical Guide to Happiness by Suzanne Falter-Barns, and Walking in this World: The Practical Art of Creativity by Julia Cameron. We’ll see how helpful they are to me.