This week, driving back to the city in the rain, I was telling my husband that I might need to completely change my line of work, maybe even go back to school. That's how low I was feeling about what was ahead of me, the hoops to navigate to secure continuing work. I just didn't have the heart for it, and while I love the work itself, the writing and the editing, the helping someone else achieve a heartfelt dream, I just don't have the right constitution for the sales conversations. The story I have been telling myself is this: Most people don't really understand what I do; they think it's little more than placing commas. They have no idea how long it takes or how all consuming it can be. When I tell them the fee, I imagine they think I'm tripping. My super successful ghostwriter friend says I just need to get comfortable sitting with the gulp of silence that follows as they digest what's real. This is my livelihood, after all. She says I have to trust that people who know the value of my work will find me. But the thought of having this money conversation again and again just leaves me depleted. I know it's a necessary aspect of a freelancer's life, but I dreamed of escape. Then I arrived home and checked my email and a wonderful writer who has numerous YA books and a raft of awards and even a TV series made of one of her books, was asking me to edit her new book, and another writer wanted to hire me to edit a proposal she has to craft; "I need your eye," she said. I have another coaching project in the wings, and another prospect as well, so I thought, well maybe I'm supposed to stay where I am for a while longer, see how things go. I'm not on the other side yet, however. I'm still in my head, making up stories that stick pins in me, which might explain the slow leak, the brooding insecurity, which is not, but feels like despair. I need to tell myself a new story, one that corrals my free floating anxiety about the future and settles me peacefully in the present moment. Because, as I noted to my husband, in this moment we are actually okay.