So reads the official launch announcement my publisher put together for me.
It is exciting.
I am excited.
rocket book is launched.
For the past seven years my singular passion was to put to paper the experiences I had while my husband and I were Peace Corps volunteers in Kazakhstan.
For most of those years, my routine was set: eat breakfast, write, eat lunch, read about writing, eat dinner, research about writing. For the last two years the routine has been slightly different: eat breakfast, edit, eat lunch, edit, eat dinner, edit. You get the idea. Now, the book is launched and I am wondering what will come next.
This is new for me, this empty nest. I’ve heard often enough of mothers who didn’t like the emptiness. I keep waiting to be miserable. But I’m not. I’m enjoying this particular emptiness.
Well, to be fair, my life is not empty. I’ve got a book tour to fine tune, blogs to write, chickens to feed. I’ve got a husband who misses me if I’m not around (never mind a mother who lives at the end of my driveway).
And, I’ve got a granddaughter who’s in that stage where she likes to write letters to her grandmother. Needless to say, I’m taking full advantage of this. (Hello, Isabella).
I still sing tenor in our local hospice choir, and I’m still serving on our town’s Planning Commission. But I’ve done those things for a few years now. Through it all, my book was my singular obsession.
With the launch of my
boat book I find I no longer have the passion, the obsession pulling me in one particular direction as I had for the last seven years.
AND I’m OK with that. It heightens my curiosity, wondering what direction I’ll go in next. I have no doubt that I’ll be pulled again, soon enough. But for the moment, I’m trying to sit in and enjoy the emptiness of having no requirements, no deadlines, no demands, no assumptions.
The Oxford English dictionary isn’t so happy with my emptiness. Here’s what “they” have to say:
1. the state of containing nothing “the vast emptiness of space”
2. the quality of lacking meaning or sincerity; meaninglessness. “He realizes the emptiness of his statement”
Sounds pretty bleak. Still, I’m hanging in there, staying empty, open, ready for what may come next, what WILL come next. And that’s exciting.
HOW ABOUT YOU? Have you a similar story of waiting to find your new direction? How do you deal with “emptiness,” the “not knowing?”