Limits are everywhere I go these days. It seems as if almost
every post I read and every question I answer on MyRACentral has an element of
someone beating their head against the wall of limits. Of no longer being able
to work, no longer being able to kick a ball around with their kids, of having
trouble cleaning the tub and the feelings that come with this loss of normal. And
outside of work, they are there, too. Someone I know struggles with finding
worth and self-esteem in a life that is shrinking around them, questioning who
they are now that they can do less. And yet another flails in frustration,
alternating between anger and sadness, frequently reduced to tears and all of
it because of limits.
And it is there within myself, as well. I'm getting closer
to the release of The Book and reading writers’ blogs about what happens after your
work is published, how to promote and get it passing before eyeballs of
potential readers. And there are terrific recommendations about blogg…