What Life Tells Us (Tara Taylor Quinn)

I sat down to blog this morning - in time to get here for the east coast early morning people - and I fell asleep. Not just a little asleep, but deeply, dreaming asleep with my head on the desk. And when I woke up I had a choice to make - listen to what life was telling me, or ignore it and probably pay a larger consequence. I listened, went upstairs, laid down and rested for another half hour.

I feel much better now - still with a list too long to get through, but I feel more in tune with the things that matter more than lists, the gifts and messages and help we get along the way, everyday, if we'll only stop and listen, or see.

I'm stressing over a booksigning I have at noon today. It's in a store that tracks (reports for NYT bestselling status) and while it's a month too late for this book to hit, it's the first time I've ever been in a tracking store. And what if I don't sell books? What are the chances that they'll order my next one? Have me back? What are the chances that I'll ever hit that list?

I've made myself sick in the past six weeks, stressing over these kinds of things. I have three books to write in a very short period of time and every one of them have a significant impact on my career - my future - the life I need and want to live. I can't give this up. But I can't do it sick, either.

This morning it occurred to me that I can have it all. We come into this world with dreams and desires and talents and needs. What I'd forgotten was that we also come with the help necessary to achieve, accomplish, survive. This morning, it was a reminder that I needed to rest.

And as I was getting ready for the booksigning, I thought about all of the people who were going to be there - not the ones I'm hoping show up to buy a book, but the ones who've already told me they will be there, supporting me. There are half a dozen of them. And yes, they're the same ones who yell at me and expect things from me and get disappointed in me. But when I need them, there they all are, lining up, a wall of strength and energy to get me through, no matter what happens there. I was so busy worrying about the people who might not come, I was missing all the strength and encouragement that were already there.

I got in the car and my usual radio station is playing Christmas songs from now until January. The first one was by Manheim Steamroller. It brought me such peace I had to stop driving for a moment and just listen. The second was a country song about a little girl who had nothing but a bedragled bird to give, but somehow that bird with a broken wing was suddenly able to fly. Life told her that what she had to give was enough - plenty enough.

And Taylor Marie - my little four pound, red darling baby girl. There she is day in and day out, jumping up to go to the office with her mama, jumping up every time I move, asking to be held if I forget to take a break. This morning, while I was busy lolling in the doldrums of not feeling my best, this little girl took on the world. At least her world. First she pounced on the forty pound mutt lying asleep on the floor. She took her little bone and climbed up on the big dog and started chewing. I had to laugh out loud. I just couldn't help it. Next she took on the ADD ten pound papillion. He screamed at her, but unfazed, she went up and stuck her nose right up to his mouth, smelling, as though inspecting it to see if it was as broken as it had sounded. I laughed again. Next it was on to try to tie shoes, to steal a bone from another one of her friends, and to try to bury it in her mama's pants - that mama was already wearing. Life gave Taylor enough energy today to share. By the time I was dressed and ready to leave the house, I was ready to conquer my world again.

These little gifts - these helps - are with us, surrounding us, speaking to us every single minute of every day - if only we'll listen to what life has to tell us. I guess I've been a little hard of hearing lately. I'm going for a hearing aid just as soon as I'm done with this signing...