Since the previous post in October, I’ve spent hours and hours in studio directing words from the kayak journals into this computer with profound mindfulness toward accuracy and editing, which, for me, translates into a further delineation of my hunt-and-peck typing style. I suppose things may have improved over the years, but a speed demon, I am not. So be it. I have no better place on earth than that studio allowing me the transition from Lake Superior to life around Little Traverse Bay. Work continues on perfecting The Penny, starting a third novel in the Brow Point series (not out of edit), and meeting folks and groups garnering support for the scholarship funds of the Little Traverse Literary Guild. My energy has increased with the conclusion of our annual Giving Thanks to the Community cocktail party at the house – always an emotional event for Christine and I – and feeling good about getting back to volunteering at Crooked Tree Arts Center and Brother Dan’s Food Pantry. Why list such trivial goings-on? It helps me to write and read what I’m doing. I lose track of how wonderful life can be as I struggle with the deepest emotions of depression related to shame and guilt. The kayak journey was a part of throwing my past to the wind and understanding previous years in life as just that, previous. My conscience has a difficult time of letting go. I teach it and preach it but doing it is a whole ‘nother process. So I persevere, much like paddling through waves and wind, the alternate choices of panic and a total dissolution of spirit leading to an early demise are not acceptable. Hope is all we have, sometimes, and hope is what keeps the next day vibrant. On the longest of days on the greatest of lakes, where cliffs and rocks made landing impossible, I found that life does go on. I am able to make shore
somewhere after rounding some obscure point or bluff even if exhausted. Perhaps my return to the “normal” of life has been a bit more difficult than I planned, and perhaps it will take more time as the winter shoves us inside to hibernate and wander outside at a slower pace. Candles will be lit, dinners cooked, and wine enjoyed in between snowshoe walks and kayak floats, so winter isn’t all dark. Into my 6oth year and not eroding from cancer or heart disease is unchartered territory for my family. Truth be told, I am so grateful and so scared at the same time.
Hours and hours in studio
December 6, 2018
stewert james
The Author
An author with a story. Living in a quiet Northern Michigan community, nestled into a serene Lake Michigan bay, James writes to the rhythms of current events mixed with romanticism and experience that can only be found by living the same adventures. Whether it’s a provocative story line or blog, this website will certainly take you beyond the keyboard.
Written from the heart as always. Thanks for sharing. I’m sure I speak for all of your friends when I say that you are a gift to us all and to many others as well.
Wishing you peace of mind.