“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” — Mary Oliver
This week, I lost my aunt and, in doing so, I lost my publisher.
Judi was one of those rocks in my life that I had assumed was permanent – bedrock, tethered deeply into the earth. To me, she was ageless, as if she had always been around 60 years old, even when she wasn’t yet and long after those years had passed. We age regardless of how others perceive us. I sometimes think I locked in at 38.
But unlike rocks, we are mere pebbles in the streams, one day carried away by the currents. None of us has permanence. In the end, the only guarantee we get is that we will one day expire, too.
The publishing journey for my novel, Finding Lancelot, began nearly a year ago. It was December 2019 when I emailed the final draft to my aunt, assuming it was easily on track for a June launch. It took her months to get back to me with the edits she felt were necessary. I questioned them at first but of course she was right. We grappled with timelines and I fought hard against the other commitments and distractions in her life. What was supposed to be a month turned into several and the editorial process drug out longer than seemed necessary. Me with my type-A nature grew more and more testy as the June launch date came and went, seemingly without regard.
I pushed and pushed, and we continued to edit through the summer. She lived in New Zealand, I in Chicago and for 2 to 3 hours every day via Skype, in the wee hours of each other’s mornings, I read aloud the entire manuscript, both of us listening for inconsistencies and needed fixes.
Finally, in August we agreed the manuscript was ready for print. But August is a terrible time to get people’s attention, and with school going back into session, September didn’t bode much better. My aunt suggested that rather than compete with the fall election, it would just make better sense to delay publication to 2021. I was adamant that the book needed to come out and that we had already lost precious time. I was publishing in October, I declared, and picked October 5 as the official, not-to-be-changed launch date.
Now, just a little more than a month after releasing my book, Judi is gone. Did I know that we were running on borrowed time? Maybe. There’s a quote I love that’s attributed to Buddha but is from the Jack Kornfield in Buddha’s Little Instruction Book, his interpretation of Buddhist teachings:
“The trouble is, you think you have time.”
None of us are privy to our expiration date. Too often, we wait until the terminal diagnosis to tackle the projects burning inside of us. What would it look like to live with that fire burning, having lit it yourself? Something in me knew this project needed to be finished and that I was running out of time. It mattered a lot to me that my books be published through my aunt’s press: Santel Publishing, a mix of Sansweet (her married last name) and Wachtel (our maiden names). This was a family project. It carried a karmic load.
Which brings me here, where I beg of you: Please do not dawdle and fritter away your life on mindless pursuits when there is a calling for something bigger. Procrastination and idle amusement are dangerous distractions from pursuing our callings, from achieving our great work. The words may seem trite and I’m certain you have heard them a million times before but people like me will continue to shout. We will continue to remind everyone, in the hopes that a blog post such as this wakes just one more person from their slumber.
Whether you believe we get one life or that this is one in many, the reality is that you’ll never get THIS life again. Our time on this Earth is a gift. Use yours wisely. Share your gifts with others.
I’m so truly sorry for your loss. Your Aunt sounds like she was an amazing woman. What you wrote here about her and about life are such incredible reminders of how we need to live. Thank you for sharing this and for reminding me of the important practices of gratitude, being present, and living life everyday.
Tami, my genuine heart-felt love to you especially right now- your remark that we do not know our expiration dates is spot on. Seize your life, pause to take in the beauty of a sunrise, rest in the peaceful knowing that you have a guardian angel, and follow your heart.
Love you Tami, and I’m so very sorry. Writing this through tears……
This is so beautiful, Tami. I’m so sorry for your deep loss and broken heart. Your words resonate with me more than you know. Thank you for putting this into the universe today and please take care of yourself. I am so happy you were able to publish your family project just in time. Collaboration + perseverance for the win!
Oh I’m thrilled to hear the words hit home. Thank you for taking a moment to share, Amy.
So sorry for your loss Tami. Beautiful writing.
I’m so sorry for your loss, but I’m equally happy that your partnership with your aunt was so brilliant and nourishing and rewarding. I’m sure she loved working with your manuscript and seeing it bloom into a great book! And, thanks so much for the reminder that life is short and unpredictable. As you noted many years ago, there is no Fire in my natal chart, but you have always helped remind me to rekindle the flame of creativity every day!
Maybe that’s my role with friends like you – light your fires!! I certainly have enough in my natal chart. I could use some Earth and Water 🙂
I’m so sorry for your loss Tami. My condolences to you and your family.
I am sad to hear of the loss of someone so important to you and your journey, particularly, in this case, your writing journey, which of course has been lifelong for you. You obviously came in with it. Therefore, her importance cannot really be overstated. Even though it got testy there at the end, there’s no doubt she knew how crucial she was to you, since she has known you, and the writer in you, your whole life.
Getting ready to “celebrate” my 71st birthday, and with covid about, I find myself thinking about death daily. It’s not something I particularly like, but comes with aging I think. It seems like the final fuck you. You can’t negotiate with it; you can’t argue with it; you can’t charm it, manipulate it, bully it, or pretend it away. Although we are powerless against the fact of our own death, the fact that we will, one day, simply vanish from the earth, we are not powerless over how we spend our lives and time.
You are so right on and thank you for the reminder. Dawdling and frittering are a tragic way to spend one’s time and yet so common to humans who are so easily distractable, particularly when faced with a hard truth. In some ways, I think it is the challenge of the human life. That is certainly what the Buddha taught. Jack Kornfeld’s quote got it so right.
Together, you and your aunt have collaborated to manifest both a wonderfully creative contribution to the world and the fulfillment of who you are. Her karmic debt to you, if there was one, was certainly paid. Courage, my girl. The sadness will gradually dissipate and what will be left is love and the mutual exchange of energy you two shared.
Thank you Nicky. I loved your words and recognition of the larger soul connection.
Though it has been many years, I remember your aunt very well before she moved to New Zealand. I”m so sorry you lost such a precious part of your family. My condolences to you and your Dad..Hugs
Thanks Aunt Sarah. Miss you!
Hi Tami, Was clearing out my emails and just saw this. I am so sorry to hear of your Aunt’s passing! Even though I did not know her, I did speak with her and you a couple of times by phone and I do know what an integral role she played in your writing. I’m glad you were able to get the book published before her passing. I have no doubt she got a lot of satisfaction from working with you. Thanks for sharing this post!
So sorry for your loss, Tami. What a great reminder for us all and thank you for following your intuition and insisting on the right thing. Hope the time will make this loss just a bit less painful and the great memory of your collaboration continue to be the inspiration in your life.