Last week it occurred to me that in some of my thinking patterns, I'm not much different to how I was when I was 16 years old. Back then, I used to hate school and walk around under a cloud of restlessness with the feeling that something was not quite right. And sometimes I have the impression that the cloud is still hanging, even though I'm now 36. When I was 16, 36 was supposed to be that shining, fantastic date in the future when I would have myself all together and be as happy as possible. So I asked myself, "What is it that hasn't changed?"

I remember one particular afternoon in 1986 when I left school in the afternoon with my bag bouncing over my right shoulder. I thought, "It'd be so great to have all this behind me. I want a husband and kids and a chance to sit down and write books without having to worry about any of these other silly subjects and essays."

Well that time has arrived and everything I hoped for has come to pass. I've been abundantly blessed during those twenty years that passed, and I am far happier than I was then, but now I have a new list of things I want to come to pass. I want to be in a position where we can stop renting and build the "dream" house that Andrew wants to construct himself, before the kids are old enough to leave home. I want to build up my little publishing business even more, telling lots more people about Apple Leaf Books. I want to be financially secure to take the kids on two holidays per year as it's such a great thing to do with homeschoolers (and we haven't been in the position to do it for two years). So I see why I feel the same as I did at 16. I've got my hopes set on different things but it's the same style of thought producing the same feelings. Now that I've brought it to my own attention, I think there's really only one way to end the restlessness.

When I'm working on my fiction I've worked out what to do. I used to feel overwhelmed and frustrated to think of a whole novel length story looming before me to write, but I developed a way to deal with it. I've been setting myself small bite-sized chunks and weekly goals. "This week I'll finish the scene where so-&-so happens." Although there is still such a lot to write overall, I concentrate on perfecting a small bit, so that by the end of the week, I do feel as if I have made very good progress. I've written four books that way since my children were babies. Now I think I need to do the same thing in the rest of my life, too.

For me, a new standard is, "Don't spend so much time chasing the ever-changing, ever-moving "Point Bs" I've set for myself. I need to practise contentment in being just where I am, because today's "Point As" are yesterdays "Points B" after all. And when we take things slowly and steadily, "Point Bs" come anyway and not one bit of restlessness and frustration brings them sooner.