Sunday Snippet: The Who Is My Best Self Edition

This morning during my daily meditation, the guide asked us to consider that question: “Who am I when I’m at my best?”

Who am I when I’m at my best?

Wow, what a question. I think we, okay I, don’t stop my life to consider who I am, who I want to be, who I should be. I just push through…working, writing, doing laundry, making meals, being horrified by the state of our government, yet loving my family and friends and just trying to get through each day. Always behind everything I do or think or say is the knowledge that my heart isn’t working as well as other hearts my age and that I am on borrowed time.

I don’t say that to be dramatic–it is what is real. I know that people can live a long time in heart failure–years even. Perhaps I will live to be a very old lady. I hope so. I’d like to be that old woman who’s unpredictable in a good way, whom people are happy to see and talk to, who’s interesting and vital and has fun. Who’s still writing romance at the age of ninety-six. But the reality is my heart tries harder.

But that wasn’t the question, was it? The question was Who am I when I’m at my best…now?

The very first thought that hit me was I am a writer when I’m at my best. As I’ve often said, quoting my writer friend, Anne Stuart, “Everything in my life is filtered through my writing. There is no me without it.” That is very true. When I look at all the other things that I believe make me the best Nan I can be, words are always a part.

I am Wife when I am at my best, but in the background, love stories grind. I am Mom when I am at my best, but I love talking story and plot with Son and basking in and drawing energy from his creativity. (He’s a musician.) I am Grandmother when I’m at my best, but I’m always storing away little tidbits of conversations or situations with Grandboy, knowing that pieces of him will be in the kids in my books. I am Sister when I’m at my best, but conversations with PJ and brother Bud are also stored for writing sibling relationships–not to quote, but to draw from when I’m writing families. I am Friend when I’m at my best, but so many of my dearest friends are also writers and/or avid readers.

Who am I when I’m at my best? I think I’m a writer when I’m at my best and the rest of me gets filtered through that one fact … and always has. I don’t think it’s something I want to change, even though there are days when I worry that I don’t have another word in me, another story to tell. When the people in my head are ominously quiet and I fear that they’ve left me. But then, suddenly, in the midst of the rest of my life–being a wife, weeding a garden, floating on the lake, hanging with my kids, washing the dishes, folding towels–one of them speaks. Tell my story. Or two of them begin a conversation, and I listen. I know with all that is inside me that I’m a writer when I’m at my best. And that’s a good thing.

Gratitude for this week: The daisies are blooming! I’ve been sleeping better. Went over to the kids’ house to help Son fix a little household issue–always a treat to see them on the fly; Husband fixed the dryer–yay! The shot in my knee seems to be working. The capri pant I ordered fit perfectly.

Stay well, If your state is having primary elections, Vote! Always choose kindness, most of all, mes amis, stay grateful.