Two weeks after hitting pause on my book, I dusted off my publisher hat and got back at it. Was I scared? Eerily so, but I was more afraid of letting that fear control me. As much as I need a break from all things stressful, I need to be clear about the source of that stress. The two weeks away have helped me see, and appreciate, that I do love my work. As I read the manuscript, the nagging doubts melted with the hours. I was lost in the story, clarifying it, fixing it, polishing it. I ended with a list for tomorrow, and left my desk in time to catch some afternoon rays, cook supper, plant more seeds in my container garden, bounce, play some music with my son, and watch a little TV. It was a good day.

But I still have a long way to go. Here is why. My techno- brain – the one looking for grammar, typos, story arc and sentence flow – was purring. A switch to my creative brain, though, brought angst, tension and frustration. Asked to pick an accent colour for our new kitchen island, I blanked. Eyeing the bald patch on our front lawn I suddenly couldn’t decide: garden or reseeding? If garden, put the lilies on the left or the right? I stormed back into the house in tears.

Then I breathed, deeply, 10 times like I promised myself I would. Paint can be painted over. Grass can be dug up. So can lilies if they need to be moved. I know that, but my processing time is still hampered. My brain, body and spirit are still grinding more than they should, resulting in a continued need to heal and recharge.

But the best thing about today? I’m looking forward to getting back at that manuscript tomorrow.

Thanks for being here. See you tomorrow.