"Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts." - Winston Churchill
Outwardly, December looks like a failure. I hoped to revise Twenty-Six Point Freaking Two, the running memoir, and submit it to additional independent publishers. I also wanted to follow up on some of the submissions I'd already sent. And I'd hoped to finish the first draft of Eat Your Toast, the daily meditation and practice book. But December got away from me.
Let's blame it on Scarlet, the immensely adorable yellow Labrador puppy we got shortly after Morgan, my co-star in Twenty-Six Point Freaking Two, died. In addition to her actual care and training, Scarlet takes a lot of mental energy. I feel exhausted a lot of the time.
Even before Scarlet arrived, November had already worn me down. National Novel Writing Month which I love, drained me this year. Beneath my desire to achieve my daily word count was the sadness of Morgan's final decline from congestive heart failure. We turned our house into a doggy hospice reminiscent of the final days with my father and it brought up emotions I hadn't felt since I'd written about that several years ago.
And then Morgan actually died. Man. That's such a punch in the gut even when you know it's coming. I didn't realize how sad I'd been until that happened. So when Scarlet entered our world two days later, I was already worn down and reeling. She's a gem, but such a distraction.
As a result, I spent much of December staring blankly into the middle distance unable to find the mental space to do the work. I did a few things, but nothing near what I'd hoped and I feel disappointed.
I refuse to beat myself up for this however. It is a new year. Scarlet is nearly potty trained! (Yay us!) And one month will not make or break the submission process. So here's to not giving up. Let's move forward and continue courageously toward our goals.