I’m having a hard time getting to the end–the end of a sentence, a thought, the situation, the reality. I guess it’s because there really are no “ends” in my life right now. I’m working with beginnings.

     I was discharged from my job in August—an ending for sure. But it opened up an opportunity to do something else; exactly what is being determined. I’m checking Monster, Craigs List, Linked-in, and Facebook daily. Can’t say what I’ll be doing a year from now, but writing feels good in the interim.

      I lost my house the end of October—another big ending. I said goodbye to my home of 10 years, made arrangements for my teen boys to stay part-time with me and part-time with their dad, sent my boyfriend out to find a full-time job and moved in with a girlfriend.

     I’d love to finish the story, but I can’t even get to the end of the paragraph. I don’t know what’s coming next. It’s that simple. I can start a sentence but I’m not sure how to finish it. And I’m not forcing myself to! I’ve given myself permission to start chapters, paragraphs, sentences without the pressure of finishing. How freeing! There’s no pressure to draw any conclusions, determine any next big steps, or finish anything. Not even this darned blog if I don’t feel like it!

     Today is for starting. No ends in sight. Just beginnings.