“In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife.
In five hundred twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes
How do you measure
A year in the life?”
~Rent, “Seasons of Love”
I love writing. In an all-encompassing, can’t get enough, makes me warm and fuzzy, sets my soul aflutter, cloud nine kind of way. I know, I know, that must come as an overwhelming shock. I’ll have to make more of an effort to talk about it on here.
Ha. But seriously, even though I write every day, it never gets old. That’s one of my favorite things about it, actually. There’s always a new story to tell, a new journey to take, a new concept to explore. Sometimes that means new characters and new books, but sometimes it means going along with old favorites as they take another leap of faith, follow another twist of inspiration, or start off along another curving path. I’ve realized that all over again lately. It’s like the spark has added a new glimmer of light to its flame. Writing is always a joy, and this week has been proof of that. And now that I’m almost ready to begin brainstorming/plotting/outlining the sequel to Reflections of Me, I’m looking forward to another magical experience in the future. I’m planning to write the follow up in a very different format than the original – an exciting challenge I’m eager to dive into – and even though the canvas is still blank, waiting to be painted, there’s one thing I know for sure. The book is going to cover a year. Three hundred and sixty-five days. That – along with something I wrote earlier this week – got me thinking. How do we measure a year? How do I measure a year?
In moments, in memories, in milestones. In laughter and love, sunshine and smiles. In the ordinary, in the extraordinary. In seconds of joy, in lifetimes of blessings. In pages written, chapters finished, words that weave a patchwork, sounds that turn into syllables and syllables that turn into sentences. In stories, in books read, in novels written. In friendship, in family, in family that we choose. In sunrises, in sunsets. In concerts, in plays, in shows. In photos, in freeze frames. In coffee dates, breakfast dates, milkshake dates. In shows watched, in songs listened to, in the stories of our lives as seen through other people’s eyes. In mornings, in afternoons, in nights. In raindrops, in snowflakes, in sunbaths. In babies, in hope, in those little miracles that aren’t so little. In relationships, in bonds, in connections. In conversations, in phone calls, in discussions. In trips, in vacations, in days at home. In the big, in the small, and in everything in between. In magic, in the magic we make. In … everything.
What about you? How do you measure a year?