The first section of the year for the Catholic Church is going on right now, Advent.
Today I’m going back to work and feeling good about it. However, I wanted to talk a moment about how one begins anything.
Do we always begin our lives’ various quests with uncertainty? Is there a beginning that can feel anything other than a myriad of possibilities?
That brings me back to Advent. Because Advent is the beginning of a liturgical cycle we know the season ends with Christmas. It’s happened for generations this way.
I am rambling. Maybe this is because I feel a bit off for the last few days, on edge. Ever since I passed out watching a particularly gory and imagination-accessing moment of Agents of Shield I’ve felt different. Perhaps this is one of the things that has held me back from writing? In any case, I am going back to work.
The work of an hour has been enough to satisfy me, but for now I will be trying to work longer, and to keep going back again and again to the page. A cycle of destiny, like a liturgical year of sorts. A literary year, month, day. A routine.
I’ll be sure to talk with all of you soon.
Have aa good day!