A Tree Grows

My post a day is waning, but I am okay with that. I am living each day and some days a post is not available to me and I realize now I don't want to post something genuinely not coming from my heart. Yet, onward I go with discipline -  for each day that I do get into that heartfelt place is a better day for me - as a writer. Speaking of writing, soon I will have ten (10) days off to work on my writing projects which include: one short story, the nudging of a novel that refuses to go away, a spiritual primer, and the ongoing memoir, "Jumping Off the Cliff with my Mother."

Today is Thursday and I'm panting for Friday, my only day off with this current schedule. I am excited to clean my apartment and decorate it for Christmas. I've got a few lights in the bottom drawer of my dresser, saved from last year, and the deli owner across the street is selling little Christmas trees in the pot and I'm going to buy one and have it year after year. I like the idea of a living tree. As the holiday season closes, seeing all those discarded trees and wreaths by the curb disturbs me until I realize they will be picked up and used as mulch. Life goes on. And that is a deliriously beautiful thing.

Happy Holidays.