Searching for Serenity

Here we go. Hello, Monday. We meet again.

Monday is a reliable friend. You can count on her. She always comes calling when she says she will.

We’re now seventy days into 2017. Some days have felt like an eternity. Conversely, at times, I feel as though entire weeks and months have rushed by me in the blink of an eye. Time is a mysterious phenomenon.

There was a time when the start of a new week sent a thrill of excitement running up my spine. The scent of undiscovered opportunities and possibilities hung in the air. Now, Mondays are as mundane as Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Regardless, I always begin my day with the best of intentions, vowing to make the most of it. Before I go to bed, I take a moment and consciously remind myself of the things in my life that I need to be grateful for and not take for granted. I don’t have a problem knowing how to begin and end my days. It’s the hours in between that I sometimes struggle with.

It has been said that change is the only constant. This might very well be true, but not much has changed for me so far this year. I remain stuck in a place I don’t want to be and I still can’t think of a way out of it. Mistakes and choices I made in the past led me here and I take full responsibility for them. Having said this, there are certain elements beyond my control that keep me trapped.

Anonymous Alcoholics have a saying that goes something like this: “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” I think it’s called the Serenity Prayer. I am neither an alcoholic nor a religious person. Still, this phrase has played in my mind with increasing frequency as of late. I would like to learn how to serenely accept the things I cannot change.

There is one thing in my life I do have the power to affect. My writing. When I sit down to work on my novel, I’m in charge of what happens on the page. Working on my novel is my favorite escape from reality. Now that I think about it, something has changed since the start of this year. And what’s that? I no longer fear the blank page. Instead, I relish the thought of filling it with words, creating a story that I have complete control over.


10 thoughts on “Searching for Serenity

  1. I confess, sometimes the blank page terrifies me, but only because I feel the weight of its expectations; like it knows what I’m capable of and will accept nothing less than sincerity (or, failing that, blood).

    Savielly Grigorievitcyh Tartakower said “The mistakes are all there waiting to be made.” As the story goes, he was looking at a chess board, set for his next match, but I’m sure he was looking at a blank page.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I think you’re right. He must have been looking at a blank page. A chess board seems far less intimidating than a blank page.
      You’ve made me thing of Hemingway. What was it he said about blood and writing? Something along the lines of it’s easy, all you have to do is sit down and bleed. Nothing worthwhile is easy, right?


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