It's been over a year since I posted anything here.
Blogs are dead.
(Except for middle-aged-man blogs read by other middle-aged men.)
(Twitter killed the blogging star.)
(And Instagram killed the Twitter star.)
But I had to write this somewhere, and I don't keep a journal.
A good friend of mine recently acquired STORY so it's no longer mine.
I shelved Dream Year coaching.
Deleted my Instagram account.
Decided not to travel this year.
Don't have a single thing on my calendar.
We have a new baby in the house.
And a most adorable three year old girl.
I've taken up ropes courses with my three boys.
I wake up every day, work-out, and then spend a few hours with my kids.
Around 10 AM, I do some emailing and tidying up.
After lunch with my family, I head out to write for several hours.
I've been working on a novel for nearly two years.
Two hours a day for two years. I'll be done February 28.
It's been the most enjoyable but agonizing thing I've done.
Even more, I'm starting at the bottom of this craft.
20 years of career-building activity down the tubes.
All because I can't keep the stories inside me.
People keep asking, "So what's next?"
I think the last decade was all about building a platform for most people.
Selling our soul to the devil of social media.
Then trying to convince people we were "experts."
In the meantime, we lost our identities, stayed perpetually in "post mode,"
and generally let the tail wag the dog of our lives.
I think we're entering a new season of getting our lives back.
Spending time with the people we actually care about,
And making good things we love.