Folding tiny kid clothes? Meditation. Emptying the dishwasher for the fiftieth time this month, putting the groceries away or humming a song on a radio that you don’t even remember turning on? Meditation. Petting a purring cat and having a glorious, momentary lapse? Meditation. I bet Trungpa had big cats.
Last Friday night, for a minute, i died.
So i’ve ripped and i’ve torn it , shaped it and , formed it ~ and for the moment, I’ve finished my memoir.
Whew! Twenty months of writing, eight months of revising and a pile of edits and rewrites have finally gotten me to this most critical stage: Querying.