AJ Alanson Author

It’s not as bad as it sounds. It’s just the B-side of committing to a new path. My life wasn’t empty when I set my sights on this new heart’s desire, namely, pandering to all of my creative whims, therefore, I had to make room. If I really want the change, I’m going to have to sacrifice something.

And that something was my old self.

I’m had to learn to fail that old self, feel the shame of inconsistency, say no to my old roles in the community, say yes to wacky new experiences, and weather the sting of judgement – all for something greater. Through a series of unusual events, I find myself nearly sixty-years-old, and just now, getting a life. The rally cry inside the head of my fifteen-year-old self had fallen silent for decades to the point where I almost couldn’t make out that faint gasp in my soul after my last child left home.

But exactly how does one “get a life?”

To that end, in this year, 2025, the universe was in my corner…like a trainer…blindsiding me with punches from behind. I caught every virus and suffered impossible injuries, and therefore, failed at every resolution, let down friends and family, and missed every mark to the point where I couldn’t even catch up to my “catching up.”

To my amazement, the world still turned without me. (Upside-down and backwards, it would seem, but that’s another discussion.)

But there, standing in the silenced cacophony of demands – in the absence of my relevance – I could still hear the desperate cry of that rebellious teen. For me, it proved both that there had always existed infinite space for my core identity, and that she was still alive. It’s a balance, I agree, between your responsibility to others and to yourself, but a balance that must be reevaluated in everything we do, every minute of the day. Living in society, by design, demands a certain sameness, a predictability, a consistency with the past, all the while our individual uniqueness is the very spark evolving that society into the future. Only the hiccup in the DNA evolves the organism. Let it be you.

My hope this year is for all beleaguered creatives, endlessly struggling to take in the world around you and boldly holding up a mirror, returning a commentary, beginning a narrative, that you find your true voice in the absence of your relevance. You are this world’s hope.

Below, I caught a moment where a mulberry branch is trapped in ice – even the water droplet of time is frozen – but there, alive, await the buds. If I don’t see you before the holidays, Happy Holidays. Looks like the 10th Admiral book will launch this next week. A Wolf in the Cove is coming soon as the previous book’s hurricane had pushed up a shipwreck in June’s cove, which sparks a merry chase through murder, mayhem, and small-town gossip all while a mysterious stranger wanders into town. I’ll let you know when it’s available. Cheers!