What is the gift?

Death and dying, and living to tell the tale. Is that a gift?

Being rejected. Is that a gift?

What is the gift?

I don’t do Christmas. And not because I’m Jewish and not because I'm a Scrooge. I don’t do Christmas because I really hate all the expectation and commercialization that surrounds this celebration. Now if we were to get back to the bare bones and celebrate Christ, I would probably be able to get behind that. I’m not 100% certain that Christ lived but I do like the message of deep love (not to be confused with romantic love) and compassion that I believe Christ embodies. I love the idea of Christ consciousness, that we all aspire to be more than we are and that we give something to each other. By give I don’t mean a sweater or an iPad or some such.

 
If you were one of my friends you would probably be okay with the fact that I give 100% of myself to you in your times of need, or I'm just super funny the rest of the time; that you wouldn’t receive a material object from me come December 25th would not be an issue. I don’t have a lot to do with my family of origin. We don’t mesh on a lot of levels. No gifts exchanged with them for sure. I send them a generic sort of love and by that I mean that I don’t bear them any ill-will. And given how some of them have treated me over the years, that’s saying something.

But let’s get back to the gift.

In previous posts I’ve mentioned that I have already had a close encounter with death. (Actually I’ve had 3 very close “calls” but I usually only talk about the dying process I experienced in 2005.) I had a friend whose mother had survived cancer and she was always talking about life being a gift and that she valued each moment. The one thing is, her talk was cheap. She was an extremely fearful person and it was tough to be around her, she did not embody the gratitude she spoke of. So I don’t speak of having survived as a gift. I look at each day as another opportunity to improve upon the previous day. Sometimes I’m successful, other times I’m not.

But now comes the interesting part. My agent has sent my book out. And right now I’m 7 for 7 as far as rejections go. It’s been a long few months. Send book out. Receive rejection letter. Repeat.

The funny thing is I’m kind of fired up. I’m like, “You won’t publish my book? Just wait mofo. The editor who publishes my book is going to be one lucky duck.” I’ve set my intention and I’m one of those people; when I make up my mind. I’ve made up my mind.

When I think of all I went through to find an agent, I’m left to believe that this is all a process. (And to be honest, as soon as the book has been bought I have to revise. And I’m burnt to a crisp after this year. So I don’t mind this tiny reprieve.)

You’ve heard it here and you heard it first. New Year. New Me. My book deal is just around the corner.

The signed contract will be the gift. And the start of a whole new chapter. I can’t wait!