Presents to Myself

I really hoped to get through to the end of the notes today, but there is just too much to cover and reconcile yet.

Another day of digging through old notes and material, shaping them into a coherent whole has been an amazing process. It's remarkable how much material I've generated over the years. Because of the separation in time, the dislocation of various notes (Google docs, loose post-its, Scrivener files, and random thoughts as I go) and the somewhat stop and start approach I've taken to this project, I've found it fascinating to see how some material supports other parts created at very different stages, how crazy deep I dug and how many cool little details I jotted down here and there. Like finding buried treasure with every shovelful.

Appropriate to the day, it's like finding a roomful of presents I've left for myself. I've spent my morning opening them with deep gratitude to myself for having taken the time to do the work, to save the inspiration for this moment.

I doubt that this protracted, even stalled method of story development is the recommended or "best" practice, but in this case it's been like marinating a stew or aging a wine. I've found deep value in letting this story accumulate and self-select rather than to have tried to sit down and force it to life. It's organically grown- deeply rooted in my psyche, fed with time and imagination and watered from the common well of myth. The first shoots of green are promising what could grow to be a mighty tree. I'm excited.

I will take tomorrow off, so to those who celebrate it, a Merry Christmas. To all, a joyous celebration of the return of the light, the turn of the season and renewal of your spirit and the bonds of family and friends.