SH*T HAPPENS

John Lennon’s quote “Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans” will most likely be the header across my tombstone, since it seems to describe my intentions I tried to keep throughout.


“Shit happens” also seems to fit the bill at times too. In fact, it has become my mantra over the past thirty years. Raising kids and step kids, being married and not, various careers and plain old jobs have all added to the mosaic that is my life. I am a mother-in-law and it is hard.

For me, October is traditionally a time of reflection and introspective analysis. It’s always been that way, even when I was a kid. It is also the time of year my Jewish friends observe Yom Kippur, perhaps adding the need to enhance my own self-awareness and preservation. A time of nip and tuck, of cleaning up and throwing out, October is essentially my spring clean up, occurring amid the calling leaves and cooling temperatures. I seem to feel the need to look for work during this time, and yearn to quit once the spring breezes roll around.

So it came as no surprise to learn a book I had been working on with my publisher, which was supposed to be released this holiday season, has been pushed back to December 2010. Not what I had intended, but it’s the way it is.

Perhaps it is the cosmic push I needed to finish my other works, all in various stages of development. In between, other ideas have popped into my already crowded cranium’s horizon, squeezing out uncertainty and doubt. Looking for work has become a depressing and fruitless endeavor, reminding me what a psychic told me several years ago.

“Don’t stop” he said. “Don’t stop writing.” Sure, I thought to myself, easy for him to say. He’s got the express train to the future; I have to sit and wait it out at the station. There doesn’t seem to be any kind of employment in my future, except for the freelance work I find from time to time. Perhaps it is the economy, or New York or my age. In any event, this year’s reflection has been filled with realizations and revelations. Things will never be the same.

“Let’s just get on with it” my purple bathrobe calls to me. Wrapped around me on cool, rainy days like these, it is the muse which beckons me to sit and pay attention to those feelings of uncertainty, doubt and just do it, do it, get on with it and get it on the page.

There are just so many lunch dates, shopping sprees and tv marathons to be used as excuses to do not do it. Eventually, everyone and everything is full.

So shit happens and life goes on. I suppose I should be thankful for that.