A Personal Treatise
Not sure exactly why this year is so significant to me. I've had seven others and truthfully none have felt so exciting. All year I've been waiting for today so that I could somehow, somewhere mark this auspicious occasion [stilted language--for no apparent reason]. I do realize that the number eight is not so significant when it comes to celebrating any life event or milestone. Most people look forward to the fives--five years, ten years, fifteen years, and so on.
Eight is significant because for me it confirms a new beginning of sorts. The interesting thing about reaching eight is that you don't start all the way over. You tend to begin again with a fresh and new perspective of all you've learned, struggle through, and experienced in the previous years.
One reason I say this with such confidence is because I saw this happen in my marriage. It was like my husband and I recycled into markedly new people after eight years but still had the awareness and consciousness of our life together during the previous years. It was lovely rediscovering who we were at that time. Arguments that used to be so intense suddenly became complete hilarity. Things we thought we knew so well about the other became times of reexploration. We had a new flow, and it just felt right.
The other thing is my instinct: I just sense something new is in the air--a shift. Out with the old; in with the new. Everything fresh.
Now obviously I am not a numerologist, and I would not put myself in a class with the prophets. Still, I know for certain the best is yet to come. I believe that today begins the fulfillment of all the expectations I have held for the last seven anniversaries. I have a stronger sense than when I started in this business, right out of college, that this is where I am supposed to be. I feel at home. I feel like I am growing into my best self. I have a surer sense of what I want, yet I expect to receive it with every bit of childlike wonder and surprise I can express.
If you asked me how I felt about things two-and-a-half years in, you may have caught me looking for the escape hatch. Everything was so quiet, then, you could hear a neuron drop. "Shh, editors at work." I was really questioning how I would fit. But, man, I really had no clue! Real publishing, when you're really in it, is like totally not quiet AT ALL! I'm so glad I stayed. You've got to give high-quality things time to age and settle. Like fine wine or great cheese or my grandma (she's still a hot mama at seventy-six and just getting hotter)...
I am so humbled God has been gracious and patient with me over these years. I wanted things He held back. I resisted things He gently nudged me into. Then I was overwhelmed when what good things I didn't ask for, He showered on me with lavish love and amazing favor. I am so grateful for all of it. Where would I be if it had not been for His grace? Most times, I am thankful that He really does know best and has the wisdom to ignore some of my prayers. Again, where would I be had He granted all of my early, not-too-bright, I'm-still-wet-behind-the-ears-but-think-I-know-something requests?
I suppose I could reflect on all the books I've edited, the authors I've acquired, the company I work for, or the respect I've garnered, but this isn't one of the fives. Eight causes me to step back and have a moment of self-reflection and God appreciation for what was and what is on the way. I absolutely adore my authors and am beyond moved by my coworkers' support and commitment, but what good could I really do them without my own confidence and awareness of who I am, where I am, where I want to go, how I plan to get there, and then a clear view--from my current vantage point--of how all of that works with the bigger picture of publishing? I'm not one to just put my head down and work. I like to look up from time to time to take in my surroundings--see where I'm at and who I'm there with. It is important for me to assess what I know and what I don't know--and learn it--before, I attempt lead, coach, or partner and build relationships with authors, other publishing professionals, and my coworkers.
I think these eight years have just helped me to not only recognize what I don't know, but I've also learned how to ask the right questions to learn what I need to learn. Wait a minute. Isn't that what I learned in college? Dang it! I thought I was on to something. Ah, well...
Here's to the eight gone by and the eight still to come!