A sabbatical, to write, walk and rest

I’d been threatening to do it for years: take a sabbatical to write, walk and rest. To stare at the sky more. Stay in the garden all day. Say ‘yes’ to all the things that I don’t have time for.

It’s finally here.

My novel’s waiting patiently in an agent’s inbox. The garden is taking shape. My health is picking up. One I’ve finished writing this blog, I’m collecting the neighbour’s pooch for a play with me and Harry where we’ll get so tired we’ll lie on the grass panting and grinning, before one of us decides to do it all again.

To get to this stage, though, I had to say no. I had to say no to all of the perceived potential of my other baby: A Story to Tell. While I’m still working away with current clients, as you’ll see on my website, I’m not taking on new work until at least February 2022. But it wasn’t until I placed the big sign on my website and the long message on my phone explaining such things that I actually, really, finally, let go of the potential loss. Of the excitement of new work. The income. The kudos that comes from running a successful business. The sense of being wanted, needed. The need to help others.

And now?

Now I’m relaxed. Life is easeful. And I’m starting to feel less guilty about it. Hell, tomorrow I might even be at the point of embracing it.

If you’re reading this and know of anyone who needs writing, editing or storycoaching assistance, check out this page of my trusted colleagues. They’re also benefiting from my sabbatical.