There is so much happening in my life – in the lives of my family – that I can barely see past the concern, but today I am going to have my picture taken (never a pleasant result, but that’s hardly the point) and attend this evening’s event at the Toronto Reference Library as one of three finalists in the Sunday Star Short Story Contest.
I have been the fortunate recipient of other writing prizes (at university and in another contest in 2009), but there is something about this event, occurring as it is in the middle of a maelstrom, that reminds me of the precariousness of life, of life’s beauty, and of how infinitesimal we are.
I have long held as my mantra that it is in the doing, not in the done, which further reminds me of Don, who used to say that life is not a four-act play with everything culminating in the final act.
And nothing today could feel more absolutely true than knowing the importance of living day-to-day, all of which makes the privilege of this prize (because as one of three finalists, I have already won) more heightened.
Still, I have spent a long time deferring that second novel, thinking that as long as I had the project underway, nothing terrible could befall me or my family members. But as the saying goes, life is what happens when you’re busy making [and perhaps not completing] other plans.
At first I panicked, realizing that I had wasted precious time. But then I remembered that when I wasn’t writing, I was teaching, editing, talking, laughing, travelling, reading, eating, thinking, imagining, hoping, revelling, worrying – all the things that not only make up a day but contribute to a rich life.
I am meandering today, not able to say fully or exactly what I mean. I think I mean to say that life is terrible and wonderful all at the same time, and that if we do not recognize that necessary paradox, our lives might feel less worth living or less worth having lived.
I must go shower now, and wash and shape my hair. A week ago, I would have tried to shake off twenty pounds and years, but today I am content to look, and act, my age, grateful for all the splendid gifts I have been given.
Don and I were both right. Life is in the doing, not the done.
