Because of the momentous events in my life that have happened lately, I feel that I should be making enormous strides every day to change. But that is not, truthfully, the way life happens. After first summer session ended, I ran with a big burst of energy to revise and send out my entire manuscript to be looked at, wanting immediately to dig into it with both hands and maybe my teeth too, revising and perfecting it. But people have lives, and I have not yet gotten it back, now that I have the time to revise it. I do not feel like writing new poems right now, but maybe I should try to do it anyway. I know once I start, something will probably happen. That's the way it generally is.
I am waiting too for my cousin to do some illustrations for the yoga book, so I can send it out (again, this time with the illustrations).
And I am wondering whether I should look for other gigs to do at the same time as teaching at the college, maybe teaching at another school as well, or something. I don't know.
In short, I am in between, at the proverbial turning point, but instead of turning, I am hesitating, looking hard at the roads open to me, sitting down in the dust to think it over.