October 7, 2009 – Stormy, nasty, rainy, beautiful clouds and sky. Rose has been after her Imaginary Squirrel for six years now, convinced he is up there, and tracking him closely. That girl does not quit. Izzy and Lenore love to watch her at work, though neither seems convinced there is a squirrel.

  I’m crashing and burning on my novel, “Rose In A Storm.” The (hopefully) final line edit, grinding, important detail work. Was at it for eight or nine hours today, and have 140 out of 430 pages done. My eyes and brain and hands are fried. Getting up before dawn tomorrow to keep at it. I am tired.

  For me, a meaningful life
  Has little to do with money.
  Or age.
  Or external measures of security.
  Or the stock market.
  Or a farm. Or animals.
  Although those things can be important.
  It is not about someone else’s life, or
  self-lament.
  It is about choice.
  A meaningful life is a choice.
  To love and be loved.
  To create,
  and tell your story.
  To be self-aware.
  To make room for life.
  And take risks.
  To open yourself up,
  and let people in.
  To admit vulnerability,
  and transcend it.
  To learn to be honest,
  about yourself
  and others.
  To be available,
  to yourself. And others.
  To understand
   fear,
   and loss,
   and pain.
   A meaningful life is not someone else’s choice,
   But my choice. And yours.