Autumn is my absolute favorite time to ponder and heal forward.
The brilliant colors and woodsy chill create a mood that can’t be matched by the innocence of snow or even the unique freshness of spring. I recently overheard someone describe the season this way: “Fall feels like coming home.” To me, it’s apple cider, pumpkin doughnut, and cinnamon stick blanket weather.
My husband, Rene, and I spent last weekend in Breckenridge, Colorado, for the annual new class retreat for the Leadership Aurora program he manages at the Aurora, Colorado, Chamber of Commerce. I have tagged along the past few years because I benefit from hours of peaceful mountain breezes wafting through the open windows of our hotel room. It’s usually the only time during my year when I get to do nothing but write. On this trip I worked on my next two books, embracing the work life I have always wanted and now have. What a thrill it is to launch into my next projects that will be unveiled 12-18 months from now while still celebrating the completion of my most recent self-assigned assignment
Some have understandably suggested I take a long break and punch out until January. But I can’t. I have been itching, no aching for months to get back into creative mode.
Why the eagerness? Cuz I gotta keep moving forward, creating new memories and stories. Some authors are using artificial intelligence to “write” a book a day, chiding old-fashioned wordsmiths like me who don’t fully embrace the wondrous efficiencies of AI technology. In the articles I have read about AI, no one seems interested in asking—let alone answering—that annoying question: “Do you honestly think anyone is going to actually read all the 250 or so books you’re releasing this year?
Quantity does not always equal quality. Efficiency does not always equal excellence. And speed doesn’t matter nearly as much as making progress, improving your craft. Moving forward.
I believe Teddy Roosevelt got it right when he said, “. . . the best thing you can do is the right thing, the next best thing is the wrong thing, and the worst thing you can do is nothing.” I would add, “No wait. The absolute worst thing you can do is lose sight of why you’re doing it in the first place.”
May you take time this season to heal forward and contemplate your future while basking in vivid shades of red, orange, and gold.