My heart is heavy today–that verge-of-epiphany kind of heavy. I’ve been thinking a lot about happiness, and about the state of my career.

Contentment has become a four-letter word. Who wants to be content? We’re so busy chasing things, people, careers that we don’t have time or energy to be content. A good friend told me life is mostly a series of journeys. That may sound obvious, or cheesy, but think about it. How many times in your life have you been “there”? Right where you wanted to be? Not often, I assume. Most of the time you’re spending your energy trying to get somewhere. So if we are never content in transition, are we just never content, period?

I think there’s something beautiful about having a dream. Having passion. Having goals. And I think we should all take steps every day towards those goals. But there’s a fine line between chasing a goal and lusting after it, between wanting something and becoming obsessed with it.

I’ve become so obsessed with achieving some of my goals that I have forgotten how to live here, now, and be happy where I am. Writing is not solely about being published. It’s about the actual writing, then growing in your craft, then entertaining people, then attracting agents’ attention, and so on. It’s about a process. It’s about a journey.

So this week I am celebrating being a somewhat new author, editing my first book and preparing to send it out for representation. This is an exciting time that I don’t want to miss out on by focusing on how I’m not published. I’ll look back one day and remember how hard I was working for something I wanted more than anything else. And I’ll know it was worth every word, every late night, and every edit.