Sing

My house is silent right now. It's early and my husband and son are still sleeping. I should welcome the peace and quiet. I'm between books and have to decide what to write next. But there are so many stories I want to tell and so many choices for how to publish that sometimes my head spins. The possibilities for success are nearly endless...but so are the possibilities for failure. There are no guarantees in publishing.

There are no guarantees in anything.

But I also have a great deal to be thankful for. Everything from my previous successes to good coffee and hot showers. And when I shift my thoughts away from the "decision that can't be made" to the people I love and the smell of rain on the grass just beyond my deck, a little something bubbles up inside and I sing.

What is it about notes that rise and fall and words that rhyme that lifts our spirits and fills our hearts with joy? How can we be silly with confusion one second and totally relaxed the next just because of a melody?

I don't know. When something works, I don't really care about the whys. I just sing.

susan