Showing posts with label type faster. Show all posts
Showing posts with label type faster. Show all posts

Monday, June 3, 2024

Dear Readers, Chapter 24


Dear Readers,

One of the advantages of Self-publishing is that you can re-submit your manuscript with a revised version.

 I found that my Kindle version of Your Story Matters had some formatting issues and a few other glitches, so I submitted it again.

So, for those who have yet to buy it, now you can get a better product.

 Your Story Matters, Living Your Life in the Most Awesome Way Possible, is available on Kindle Unlimited for Free, courtesy of Amazon. This means you can easily access and enjoy the book without any additional cost. And a download from my readers will tell Amazon that people are interested in it.

 Your Story Matters is still being shared here on my site, chapter by chapter. It's like I'm reading it just for you, as per the request of a dedicated reader who wanted to experience the whole journey.

Writing this memoir, which morphed into a self-help book, was a year-long process, although I said I would try to write 50,000 words while the pink dogwood blossoms were on the tree. I did, but you know about first drafts: "They stink. Don't let anyone see them."

I gained so much understanding from writing this. I'm sad about my dad but happy about the child I was. It's been a long life, and I'm grateful for it and the people who populated it. It caused more pondering than I included, and it would be the same if you wrote yours. Thus, I'm encouraging others to do it—even if you aren't aiming for publication. 





Chapter 24


Type Faster


Someone asked Isaac Asimov what he would do if he knew he would die tomorrow. 


His answer?  "I'd type faster."


I've adopted his philosophy.


Today, I'm sad about a plant. 


It lived a block from our home, snuggled in, and touched an almost broken-down old fence with a dog behind it. The dog barked as Sweetpea and I approached. Sweetpea, about 20 sizes smaller than he, acted like she could take him on. 


The plant was a house plant someone must have tossed. I watched it last year. This spring was warm with plenty of rain, and that plant had grown almost a foot and a half in diameter. I was tempted to dig it up, but it was happy there and didn't belong to me. It was its own plant. This week, they built a new fence outside the old one, and the builder trampled that plant down to a spindly two leaves. I heard someone with a Weed-Wacker out there yesterday, and today, on Sweetpea's and my walk, the plant was gone.


I came home, washed dishes, cleaned the stove, and fixed breakfast. I only fixed cereal with half and half, and now I am at my desk—with that plant being a sad memory.


In Old Friend from Far Away, Natalie Goldberg asked, "What Will You Give up When You Die?" 


I will give up life on this planet, so it seems. One person with an NDE (Near Death Experience) said she missed the breeze on her skin.


I say, "Don't teach us to love our sensory pleasures, then take them away." 


When James Lipton, the MC of the TV show Inside the Actor's Studio, was asked one of the questions he asked of his guests, "If heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the pearly gates?"


His answer: "You were wrong, Jim; I exist. But you can come in anyway."


I used to think, What? Do you mean we have to start all over again as babies, grow up, do the spiritual work we've already done, go through puberty, be young adults, but not yet mature enough to handle life, yet thrust into a world of worry, earning a living, and feeding ourselves and our family?


But now, I believe our spiritual learnings are stored in the soul. We learn and continue to learn. We have a choice to stay on the other side, come back, or go on. Someone may need what we offer, and we will return for them.


I'm hoping I won't miss my people and pets for long, and they won't miss me for long, for I believe our souls go on, and I will see them again.


I plan to see green again, rolling hills, green forests, and the ocean. I imagine Boots running to me along with Duchess, Velvet, Sierra, and the dogs, all the animals that have called me their pet. And there may even be a breeze.


People relate near-death experiences. I have never had one, nor do I wish to. There was a time, however, when I was ready to go. I didn't have a dire illness. I had a lingering cold and a meniscus tear (of the cartilage) in one knee that was hurt so badly that I could hardly walk at all, let alone cross the street. I thought dying was not so bad; Sweetpea would be all right. My children will be fine. My husband will be okay. I was in some mushy trilight other-worldly land where I had no fear of dying.


I thought I was having a near-death experience without going near death. It passed, my knee healed, and I don't feel that way now. 


But I need to type faster.

Amazon link to Your Story Matters