Before you panic and think I'm ready to shuffle off this mortal coil, let me just say I've had days when I kinda felt ready to go. I was tired and disillusioned, and (let's blame this on hormones), my PMS was getting the best of me (may as well tell it like it is, eh girls?).
But these days, nah, I'm good. What I mean by running into the sunset is that I realize time is marching on and the days left for me to accomplish my goals are becoming limited, or, shall I say, more limited. Does that scare me? You bet your girdle it does! But that awareness has actually, of late, been serving as one great big push. And I think that's a good thing. So I'm running, with my head held high and my biggest dreams still on the bucket list.
Today's been a weird day so far. I had to go to Chartlottetown (about an hour from my home in Summerside) to see my eye doc. On the way home I passed two sandstone inukshuks and a big sign that read something like, 'You're never too old to follow your dreams.' Of course, me being me, I was listening to sad iTunes songs as I drove, yet my heart was filling with a growing excitement. I will also add that, me being me, I felt that both of the inukshuks as well as the sign were, of course, placed by that particular stretch of earth-shattering gorgeous Prince Edward Island highway for me to see. For one, I never drive home on Hwy One, yet today I did, for a change (lots of eye appointments equals lots of driving time, and I get bored), and for two, I've been thinking a lot about ageing lately.
I think when a person spends their entire adult life driven by an all-consuming passion to fulfill one's dreams, one tends to start some sort of countdown as the years tick by. Lately though, like today, I feel like I'm being handed a number of messages telling me that it's okay, life's not over yet, I can stop counting and just enjoy each moment, and it's not too late to make the rest of those dreams come true. (If it is too late? Well, what's the point of worrying? Enjoy today!)
I've been working on a museum contract at the Wyatt Heritage Properties these last few months, and, let me tell you, you begin to appreciate how sacred life is when you run your fingers over a magnificent dovetail-jointed writing desk lovingly created by a nineteenth century craftsman. Suddenly life becomes this whirlwind vortex that you can't begin to wrap your mind around because your days are peopled by folks who no longer exist (well, maybe they do, in spirit). You read journals and notes left in cubbyholes that were meant for you to find. These have messages like this one - that a particular Windsor style chair was handmade by the rather famous Barnett Wilt from Fortune, P.E.I., who made it around 1850.
You realize that the person who left the notes was once breathing in and out the same way you are. And that she was surrounded by family who also roamed the beautiful old Victorian home where you are now so carefully and lovingly studying the furniture left behind, the tangible proofs of their existence, where they stored their things, where they snacked on cucumber sandwiches, where they played the piano and entertained lonely airmen training for war at the local flying school.
Working in the museum world is incredibly humbling.
But working amongst ghosts has also given me a rush of energy to get out there and get moving on my next creative project. Will my name be left in cubbies for future generations to find? Perhaps my books will live on and some young gal will pull one out of a dusty drawer and wonder who Susan Rodgers was. Will she blow off the dust and give it a read? Will Jessie Wheeler, Josh Sawyer and Jacob Ryan live on? And what about the folks y'all have yet to meet - Jordie MacAulay and Abby Ryan? (Yeah, Ryan is a family name, guess that's why it shows up in a few of my books! And why do so many of my characters have names that start with J? I dunno, that just happened. Worked out great for my new wrist tattoo, lol!).
The point is…thinking about the past can make speculating about the future much more relevant. It's interesting to look behind me and see how what I've done before has informed the present. My life is seriously a bunch of big puzzle pieces that are only now starting to fit together and make sense.
My Ophthalmologist, Doc O'H, I call him, put it quite succinctly. (Yeah, we rarely discuss my eye, that's almost an afterthought after years of seeing the guy for the same eye issue - instead he's like a wise sage whose advice and thoughts I've come to cherish). Anyways, Doc O'H once said I needed to do other things in my life in order to get me to where I am now, and to feed the knowledge and experience I need now. I tend to agree. During those 'down' times, I got discouraged as hell. Damn straight I did. We all do when things don't seem to be going the way we want them to. But suddenly now it's like a big 'ole rainbow is opening up. A friend of my mother's told me, when I was seventeen, that I would be a late bloomer (yeah, she was talking about my boobs, but I ate lots of red smarties and they came around…ha ha…). These days I am giving her thoughts another perspective. I am saying in terms of dreams, I'm blooming late.
But whatever. We're all on our own path. Who says life has to be sorted by the time you're twenty-five, thirty, forty, fifty, or even sixty? I am forty-nine, and not afraid to admit it. I'm in the best shape of my life thanks to tons of Yoga, Pilates, and Zumba, mostly. My guy is even older and he looks amazing (trust me, yum). I just finished an eight novel series that is exploding in popularity (scary in its own way), and I am blessed beyond belief to have been accepted into the 2015 PEI Screenwriters' Bootcamp, which starts this Saturday.
I am not making any predictions as to how things will go for me. There are too many factors beyond my control to even consider. But I hope I travel safely to and from the bootcamp, and I intend to work my new Yoga butt off to make the next dream happen. The dream is my feature film, Atlantic Blue, which I will be fine-tuning as a screenplay at the bootcamp, and will also be writing as a novel this summer.
Mucho work is about to begin again - seeking investors, financing, a team to help make the film happen…you name it. But I'm disciplined and beyond excited, because there is nothing in this world that, to me, equals the simple MAGIC of matching story to image and image to music. I've accomplished that in the books, to a certain degree, but now I want to give Drifters fans (and new fans) the next level of what I know I am capable of in terms of evoking passion and inspiration. (Y'all know my stories are about down on their luck folks who find ways to believe in themselves…right?).
Getting older? Pshaw. I'm becoming wiser and more at peace every day. I hope you are too. 'Cuz you reading this blog is my kick in yer everlasting pants to get out there and make your own dreams come true. Ain't nobody gonna do it for you. So stop whining. Stop looking for others to blame. Just - make - it - happen.
I'm gonna try.
Whatever happens, happens. I've got the time this summer, I've got the support, and I've got the desire.
Atlantic Blue, it's time. You are NOW.
Where's that stunning Prince Edward Island sunset? I'm running towards it, with my arms outstretched, with a wide and joyful smile, and with music in my heart.