A Well-Seasoned Life

The one fear I have in life is getting in a rut and not able to get out of it.

From 2007 through 2009 I had Stage 1 skin cancer and had to undergo treatment. As far as treatments go, it was "mild" but my system is rather delicate when it comes to taking in any type of harsh medication. In short, the treatment laid me low, tampered with my short and long term memory and made it impossible some days to function very well. The treatment was worse than the illness. The skin cancer spot I had was eradicated but the after effects of the treatment raged on for quite a bit and only during this past year have I started to feel better. The bloating has subsided and my memory is improving little by little.

One thing that came out of all this was the realization that some things that had made happy, activities I had enjoyed, had become obligations. They were not fulfilling. I had to back out of many activities due to my protracted health issues; once I started to get better I discovered that I wasn't anxious to return to a few activities that I had been engaged in for a very long time. There were other external factors too, but realizing how much I wasn't enjoying them anymore surprised me. They had been, as I said, things I had been doing for a long time. But there it was - I wasn't interested anymore. So, that realized, what now?

I decided that I wanted to change my career and pull my energy and time away from other things. It's one thing to change your career path and quite another to get into the market you want to be in, especially during a bad economy. It was frustrating to repeatedly get turned down for even entry level positions I was willing to take in order to learn law enforcement. But, finally, after a lot of persistence and prayer I got to where I wanted to be and landed an entry level position in law enforcement. Thanks to the state, I will be able to take classes in criminal justice starting in January.

The decision to focus on my own writing projects has been easier said than done. I was not able to pour my pain and frustration into writing as some writers can do: not knowing where the rent money was going to come from each and every month worried me to the point it my creative juices were blocked.

I'm in the process of creating a special place to write in my home that will function as a sanctuary. I realize how much more time and energy I have now that I have pulled back from activities whose pleasure components had long since died.

And that's a good thing.