Saul Good and Co.

Seasons of Dawn

I observe a traditional 12-month calendar because I’m part of the world, but I realize that personally, a year is not really broken into months or winter/spring/summer/fall but instead it's made up of six distinct periods. To wit:

January - I'm generally a mess for the entire month, blinking my way into the New Year and not holding myself accountable for making any big changes.

Badass/Thriving Period- I tend to get my shit together by the beginning of February and cruise through the next few months on a combination of stable routines and keeping it cozy at home. This is when I typically make my goals, for example, by May I’m regularly running 5 miles or whatever and I’ve logged a lot of writing hours.

Vacation summer - July through mid-August is a series of getaways, beaches, family, fun food and flowing drinks. Brains go out the window, and pretty much everything else with 'em, with glorious abandon.

FML summer and false fall - when vacation is over, the hot and humid weather overstays its welcome and I descend into fitful, crabby malaise. Probably don't touch or talk to me, and don't expect too much. 

Good fall - this occurs around mid-October and marks a brief return of exhilaration and productivity along with crunchy leaves and my beloved sweaters.

The Holidays - Halloween through New Year's. Basically vacation summer, but cold. And repeat. It's helpful to be in touch with one's own phases and patterns, I've gotta say.

I swear I even smile sometimes (usually in phases 2, 3, 5 and 6), I'm just bad at capturing it.

Dork Everlasting

Some of you who know me from way back know that I took guitar lessons in the early 2000s. I was already in the better-late-than-never stage of my life at that time, and when I made the decision to get started (with all that optimism and, more importantly, that sweet, sweet non-child-having free time I took for granted) I was happily on my way  to acquiring something I've always wanted: musical talent. Well. I took weekly lessons for about a year, and definitely learned some basics. I wasn't a quick study, but I felt like I was making progress, and was pretty sure that I'd get the hang of it until 1) my teacher got a new gig and stopped teaching, 2) I never got a new teacher, 3) I lost the motivation to practice, and 4) my cheapo acoustic broke right in half. The point is, the musical talent never showed up, but the potential never actually went away, I just let it go. The other day I woke up really wanting to play again, and so, because I can, I'm getting a new guitar.

Nothing is promised, not one more second, I am inordinately aware of this, especially, er, well you don't need me to go into detail about what's special about these times. In the wake of my guitar resolution, I was doing the math on my existence and it turns that, due to factors such as my particular genetic makeup, the odds favor that I haven't yet reached the halfway point of my life. Yeah I'll be 50 in a few years and I'm middle aged no matter how you look at it, but so? That's still so much potential time. Time to learn guitar. Time to get my book published and to keep writing. Time for so many adventures and experiences and why not? Because I'm not young anymore? How dumb, what a shame it would be to lose out because I've been brainwashed by Youth is King culture. 

I wouldn't go so far to say that I'm aging gracefully, I don't think the word "grace" applies to me in any way shape or form, but I can extend grace to myself. I intend to age joyfully, and that includes being loving to myself, even my changing body and face. I don't begrudge anyone doing whatever makes them happy, and I haven't sworn against any eventual procedures or interventions because you never know, but due to my contrary nature and having lived long enough to question the standards of what makes someone acceptable in our society, I just don't want any part of it. The diets and the botox and the fillers and the desperate clinging to a game that nobody wins. I want beauty standards to be different, I want that for us. I want physical appearance to matter less, I want that for all of us. I'm getting older and that's great! I celebrate getting as old as I possibly can, and I know it comes with a ton of downsides (health and quality of life is obviously a consideration) but I have my own list of upsides and even putting aside the passions I have yet to chase, I have my kid and my niece and nephews I need to see grow up. I'm betting on my FOMO being powerful enough to add at least five years. 

Whether I even want to see what comes next in this deteriorating hellscape is another matter altogether, but for its own sake, I think growing old is a privilege and I'm ready to be the ornery arthritic guitar strumming fuck next door who will probably still be writing sex scenes and everybody will just have to deal with it. 

This is my hopeful post for the year, don't spend it all in one place.  

Meet the New Boss, Same as the Old Boss

Well Crappy New Year to you too! Every day I wake up is a victory in itself, but once I get past that segment of my gratitude practice I'm a grumble bear. Don't poke me. Actually, ACTUALLY, it's not that bad if you like time warps. We're back to hunkering down in our comfy clothes with our comfort foods and reading and bingeing Netflix and lighting candles making the best of it circa March 2020. It's not like coziness isn't my top priority in general, it's just that I want to choose that hygge life. It's a drag having it forced on us again for fear of our lives. Whatever whatever, we got through that and we'll get through this. I wrote this entry one year ago today and you know the wild turn that day took so I'm not going to jinx anything by getting publicly excited or hopeful about anything. I don't dare, ok? We're here, hello, that will have to do. 

In the first entry of last year I set a few goals, a big one being, "This year I am going to get my damn book published and finish a draft of the sequel." That did not happen, obviously. All is not lost in that arena however, as I got a bunch of people in my life to read and give me feedback on my current manuscript and I did learn a lot about the query process and did a ton of research about agents. The next few months, now, are dedicated to sending out queries to literary agents, and while I wait to hear back, finishing a basic outline of the second book. I don't usually employ an outline when I write, but read a bit of wisdom that said if you're going to write a series, wait until the first book is set in stone before you write the second in its entirety because changes might be made to the first that would seriously affect the sequel. I just need to be writing something, is the point. And that's all she wrote for today.