It’s one of those days.
When I taught a Junior Achievement class called “Real Jobs, Real World,” I used to ask my high school students to imagine they had the job of their dreams. It supported the lifestyle of their dreams. They loved every minute. (I cheated a little – I emphasized the part about “of your dreams” with a video of stunt cyclist Danny MacAskill practicing his moves, riding his bicycle off a wall and up a tree, among other things.)
Then I asked them if they thought, when they had that job, that there ever would be days they just did not think they could go to work. I asked them if they thought MacAskill ever felt that way. Always, the answer was, “No.”
This was the unit on motivation. It was the reality check, the “think it through” class. I wanted them to choose carefully, because I know about those days. No matter how much you love what you do, sometimes it just doesn’t come together. Those times, you need a reason to get up and do it anyway.
I love to write. I love to tell stories, to surprise, to make my audience laugh or weep – maybe even get mad. I want them to feel more than they did before. In the best cases, I may be able to shed a little bit different light on a subject, get one person to see something just a little differently. But some days, the latest twist of the new short story drives me crazy, or the layout of the Wire won’t work. Some days, I have no earthly idea what to say in this note, and I fear it will be pure drivel. Some days I question my ability, and some days, I just flat don’t want to do it. But I do. Even if it’s drivel, I write something.
This morning, I heard the news on NPR of the death of Marie Colvin in Syria. Ms. Colvin was a journalist – a woman who wrote. She spent much of her adult life on the front lines of war, recording what was happening, particularly to the civilians caught in the crossfire. She was, as are all war correspondents, well aware that her job could cost her life, but she kept doing it. She lost an eye to shrapnel in Sri Lanka in 2001; she put on an eye patch and went back to work. There were stories she was put on this earth to tell, and no one else could tell them the way she would.
This morning, NPR anchor Steve Inskeep asked one of Ms. Colvin’s colleagues, London journalist James Hider, why she kept going back. Before the poor man could answer, I was shouting at my radio (it’s a bad habit, I know), “Because she was a writer!”
I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty sure there are no Marie Colvins in my house. I haven’t yet run across a story I’m willing to die for. If ever I do, you’ll be the first to know.
But I get it. If you’re a writer, you just do it. Even on the days when you’re pretty sure you can’t, you do.
I think we’re special, we women who write. We tell stories our own way – stories no one else can tell. We bear witness to the little details of the heart as well as the sweeping horrors of war. Even the best of us – like Marie Colvin – probably wake up some days thinking, “It just is not worth it. I can’t do it today.” And then – if it’s our dream job, if it’s what we believe we were put here by the Universe to do – we knuckle down and tell our stories anyway.
Days like today, I feel very small. Marie Colvin exposed the tragedy and the lies of war up to – even on – the day she died. The best I’ll ever do is maybe get someone to stop and think twice about a dearly held preconceived notion.
But I also feel honored. Marie Colvin was a woman who wrote. I belong to that universe, too. My stories are smaller, less earth shaking (an understatement if ever there was one), but they are from the heart. And my stories, for the most part, are short fiction – but they bear witness to the truth as I know it.
This is one of those days I’ll remember when I have one of those other days, when I wake up and think, “Not today.” I’ll think it, sure – and then I’ll put on my shoes, make my cup of chai, and go do my job, telling stories. Being a woman who writes.
Showing posts with label Women Who Write. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Women Who Write. Show all posts
22 February 2012
01 January 2012
The big picture
Several years ago, I quit making New Year’s resolutions. For me, they were just “to do” lists with all the time in the world and no accountability. However, the end of one year and the beginning of the next can be a time to reflect on where I am and where I’m going, evaluate my progress toward larger goals, and redirect as needed. This is the time to clear the clutter, decide what’s important right now, and commit to bringing that to life. It’s the time to discard what’s slowing me down and start fresh in living life well.
For years, I tried to build more structure into my goals. I wrote them down and posted them on mirrors and bulletin boards, created deadlines and to-do lists, and pushed myself to adhere – and inevitably, ended up frustrated, behind schedule, and mentally and physically drained. In recent years, I’ve learned I can only deal with so much structure before I start to feel boxed in and out of touch and seriously uncreative.
Let me explain: If you’ve had a child with ADHD, you know how intently teachers, administrators, caregivers, and mental health professionals all push the “structure” thing. Gotta have expectations. Gotta have accountability. Gotta have routine. But when the expectations, accountability, and routine become inflexible, you’re headed toward a major meltdown. If you focus exclusively on managing the ADHD, you stifle the child – and the end result is never pretty.
For me, the balance is the “big picture.” I have intended results and drop-dead dates on my calendar – and I try to ensure everything doesn’t come due at once! But I keep the day-to-day activity flexible. Once I start a project, I try to stick with it until I get to a good stopping point, but I know I work best if I have more than one project going. I need something to switch to, in case I get bogged down. I can work toward goals, but if the “pogo stick of thought” needs to bounce down a different sidewalk, both my intellect and my mental health absolutely require the flexibility to do it.
If I make a to-do list, it’s only to break out the steps involved in one short-term project, like updating all the email addresses in eight sets of documentation with five documents per set, or cooking a holiday dinner with minimal stress. (Yes, it can be done!)
The keys to making it all happen are, first, taking time to make sure the “big picture” is the one I really want in my heart of hearts – which takes time and careful contemplation, which is what December is good for – and second, accountability, which is the point of this note. I’m about to tell you what’s in my big picture. Once you know, in my mind (the part that belongs to the Recovering Preacher’s Kid who grew up in a fishbowl, always aware that everyone was watching), that makes me accountable.
A friend of mine, life coach Stacey Vicari, sends her clients and former clients a workbook toward the end of each year, and encourages us to use it to help clear out the clutter – mental and otherwise – and refocus on what’s most important to us. It’s an important exercise. When I look back at the one I did three years ago, I’m amazed at how far I’ve come in establishing my identity as a writer. When I joined Women Who Write, writing was something I did. Now, it’s become the center of who I am.
I haven’t finished this year’s workbook yet, although I’ve evaluated where I am now, in terms of self, spirit, career, family, leisure, health, and finance. And I’ve roughed in my calendar, which points me toward where I want to be when next year’s workbook arrives in my email. My goals this year – the “big picture” things – are (1) publication, (2) not just self-identification, but a degree of public recognition as an author, and (3) completing multiple challenging bike rides.
And getting the 2012 Christmas tree up before Dec. 24…
Happy New Year – here’s to productive “fresh starts” for us all!
For years, I tried to build more structure into my goals. I wrote them down and posted them on mirrors and bulletin boards, created deadlines and to-do lists, and pushed myself to adhere – and inevitably, ended up frustrated, behind schedule, and mentally and physically drained. In recent years, I’ve learned I can only deal with so much structure before I start to feel boxed in and out of touch and seriously uncreative.
Let me explain: If you’ve had a child with ADHD, you know how intently teachers, administrators, caregivers, and mental health professionals all push the “structure” thing. Gotta have expectations. Gotta have accountability. Gotta have routine. But when the expectations, accountability, and routine become inflexible, you’re headed toward a major meltdown. If you focus exclusively on managing the ADHD, you stifle the child – and the end result is never pretty.
For me, the balance is the “big picture.” I have intended results and drop-dead dates on my calendar – and I try to ensure everything doesn’t come due at once! But I keep the day-to-day activity flexible. Once I start a project, I try to stick with it until I get to a good stopping point, but I know I work best if I have more than one project going. I need something to switch to, in case I get bogged down. I can work toward goals, but if the “pogo stick of thought” needs to bounce down a different sidewalk, both my intellect and my mental health absolutely require the flexibility to do it.
If I make a to-do list, it’s only to break out the steps involved in one short-term project, like updating all the email addresses in eight sets of documentation with five documents per set, or cooking a holiday dinner with minimal stress. (Yes, it can be done!)
The keys to making it all happen are, first, taking time to make sure the “big picture” is the one I really want in my heart of hearts – which takes time and careful contemplation, which is what December is good for – and second, accountability, which is the point of this note. I’m about to tell you what’s in my big picture. Once you know, in my mind (the part that belongs to the Recovering Preacher’s Kid who grew up in a fishbowl, always aware that everyone was watching), that makes me accountable.
A friend of mine, life coach Stacey Vicari, sends her clients and former clients a workbook toward the end of each year, and encourages us to use it to help clear out the clutter – mental and otherwise – and refocus on what’s most important to us. It’s an important exercise. When I look back at the one I did three years ago, I’m amazed at how far I’ve come in establishing my identity as a writer. When I joined Women Who Write, writing was something I did. Now, it’s become the center of who I am.
I haven’t finished this year’s workbook yet, although I’ve evaluated where I am now, in terms of self, spirit, career, family, leisure, health, and finance. And I’ve roughed in my calendar, which points me toward where I want to be when next year’s workbook arrives in my email. My goals this year – the “big picture” things – are (1) publication, (2) not just self-identification, but a degree of public recognition as an author, and (3) completing multiple challenging bike rides.
And getting the 2012 Christmas tree up before Dec. 24…
Happy New Year – here’s to productive “fresh starts” for us all!
14 December 2011
Well, hi there!
Or - as my brother would say - "High! There?"
Not much time for blogging the last few months. Been busy with a few other things, like watching my nest empty out as the last kid left town to join the Air Force, beginning a home re-decorating project that will probably never end, evaluating my professional direction, and redirecting my career (less corporate BS, more real writing).
To that end, allow me to direct you to Amazon.com, where you can purchase for a mere $11.99 (plus shipping cost) the 2011 Calliope, the annual anthology of Women Who Write. For that matter, you also can get the 2010 edition - I have pieces in both of them! And coming soon, a cookbook with a first-prize winning entry consisting of the recipe for Grandma Lil's Genuine English Trifle and an essay about the history of trifle, as Lillian and I decided it must be.
Next stop: a couple of regional and national publications, and I'll keep you posted on the details! :-) And a couple more extensive projects underway. Again, details later.
In between - since those pesky Women Who Write (yes, I'm a member ... in fact, I edit the monthly newsletter) insist on noting my blog in my bio - I'll try to keep this space a little more current in the future.
And if you'd like to receive the Writers' Wire (newsletter mentioned above), send me your email address. Organization membership, being a writer, and even being a woman are NOT required!
Pedal on, y'all!
Not much time for blogging the last few months. Been busy with a few other things, like watching my nest empty out as the last kid left town to join the Air Force, beginning a home re-decorating project that will probably never end, evaluating my professional direction, and redirecting my career (less corporate BS, more real writing).
To that end, allow me to direct you to Amazon.com, where you can purchase for a mere $11.99 (plus shipping cost) the 2011 Calliope, the annual anthology of Women Who Write. For that matter, you also can get the 2010 edition - I have pieces in both of them! And coming soon, a cookbook with a first-prize winning entry consisting of the recipe for Grandma Lil's Genuine English Trifle and an essay about the history of trifle, as Lillian and I decided it must be.
Next stop: a couple of regional and national publications, and I'll keep you posted on the details! :-) And a couple more extensive projects underway. Again, details later.
In between - since those pesky Women Who Write (yes, I'm a member ... in fact, I edit the monthly newsletter) insist on noting my blog in my bio - I'll try to keep this space a little more current in the future.
And if you'd like to receive the Writers' Wire (newsletter mentioned above), send me your email address. Organization membership, being a writer, and even being a woman are NOT required!
Pedal on, y'all!
09 January 2010
Snow days
I know everyone in the higher elevations and the Frozen North figures we're wimps and wussies down here. Seriously - it's only in the 20s, with lows only down in the 'teens, and we're calling snow days. To which I can only say, "Yeah, yeah, whatever!"
It started snowing early Thursday morning, and it hasn't stopped since. Sure, most of what's fallen in the last 24 hours has qualified as "flurries," or even just "spitting snow" - not much to speak of, and we only have 3-4 inches accumulated - but I could do with a bit of sun at this point.
It does this once a winter, maybe twice, so there's not much call for spending big bucks on snow removal equipment. We have some, sure - more than we had in eastern NC, where there was even less need - but we don't worry so much about clearing the roads and keeping the schools open, because we know it's not going to go on all winter. Give the kids a break - they can make it up at the end of the school year and complain then.
Of course, we "big kids" still have to go to work, unless it's actually icy and they do close down business. That's happened maybe two or three days in the almost 10 years I've lived here. (And I believe they were all last year.) So out I went Thursday morning, dutifully skating my way up the hill in the little Saturn, and finding it was not so easy getting started again after stopping at the second stop sign. And even less so, stopping at the third... It took me an hour and 15 minutes to get to work, even though the interstate was clear, but I did get there.
As the day wore on, the snow continued coming down, but all reports were that the streets were improving. I didn't worry - met my friend, Paige, for margaritas and a mini-bitchfest after work (that's "margaritas" - plural - because I had one and she had one and that makes two!), then drove over to the public library branch at Mid City Mall for our monthly meeting of Women Who Write. Four of us actually made it, where we usually have 10 or 12. Ms. Emily wins the Nanook Award - she walked several miles rather than take her bicycle out in this weather. She's an adorably hardy soul!
We made short work of the meeting - even with critiquing a short story by one of the members, we were done by 8. I decided we didn't need groceries, stopped instead at Feeder's Supply for dog food and treats, and was home by 8:30.
I'd sent work home via e-mail Thursday afternoon, guessing that I might not be able to get out on Friday. Too much to do to be able to really relish an enforced day off... To get to our house, you have to go down a short but fairly steep hill, then back up a shorter but steeper one, and the driveway takes another sharp up-tick. I made it in, and I had no intention of even trying to make it out unless things were vastly improved. Our neighbors - none of whom has as steep a drive as we do - had wimped out and parked randomly around the culdesac, which is a little tight in the best weather. And since our drive is one car-width, we had to do the Vehicular Shuffle to get everyone in the order they needed to leave, which was a tight squeeze, what with about 40% of the street space taken up with two sedans, a station wagon, and a long-bed, king-cab pick-up truck...
I got a lot done yesterday, though. I'm usually more productive at home than at the office, to be honest - I pace myself better, and I don't have the distractions here. And when Ed got home, we went to Perfetto's for pizza.
They thought it was funny that we'd thought they might not be open. "We're from Wisconsin," Cindy laughed. "We're going to be here!" We knew that, but pointed out that most of their Friday night regulars aren't from Wisconsin, and we'd thought maybe business was slow and they'd decided to pack it in and cut back on overhead. But no, she said - Thursday night, they'd had two carryout orders and no dine-ins, but they were there. It's a family shop, so I expect the overhead for staying open in spite of the weather doesn't extend much past utilities.
Today, I've worked a little more - it was here, so I might as well make some headway on a couple of those projects - and done laundry. Youngest Child is moving in with a friend in a couple of weeks, and we're trying to get him organized so he can load his Vue and get moved with some degree of efficiency. Puts a damper on my plan to have the house back to pre-holiday order by mid-month, because I'm having to focus instead on his space and the rubble therein - but it will all happen. I just need to maintain my focus and hold my intention, even when I have to adapt the master plan. The thing is, my office space and the family room are now his staging area, which pretty much precludes any more organization in there until we're done with the moving thing...
I've been to the door in the past two days to let dogs out, let dogs in, put the cat out, bring the cat in, and only once to go anywhere. I've done three handbook revisions, a third revision on a "how it works" presentation, and written this one blog because I've been gone for weeks and I have to get back in the swing of it. The snow is lovely, and I've enjoyed sitting for a few minutes here and there by the back window, watching it fall while I drink my coffee. But more than ever, my muscles are twitching and my mind is racing, up the road and into the wind on my blue bicycle, which sits in the cold shed waiting for a warmer day.
It started snowing early Thursday morning, and it hasn't stopped since. Sure, most of what's fallen in the last 24 hours has qualified as "flurries," or even just "spitting snow" - not much to speak of, and we only have 3-4 inches accumulated - but I could do with a bit of sun at this point.
It does this once a winter, maybe twice, so there's not much call for spending big bucks on snow removal equipment. We have some, sure - more than we had in eastern NC, where there was even less need - but we don't worry so much about clearing the roads and keeping the schools open, because we know it's not going to go on all winter. Give the kids a break - they can make it up at the end of the school year and complain then.
Of course, we "big kids" still have to go to work, unless it's actually icy and they do close down business. That's happened maybe two or three days in the almost 10 years I've lived here. (And I believe they were all last year.) So out I went Thursday morning, dutifully skating my way up the hill in the little Saturn, and finding it was not so easy getting started again after stopping at the second stop sign. And even less so, stopping at the third... It took me an hour and 15 minutes to get to work, even though the interstate was clear, but I did get there.
As the day wore on, the snow continued coming down, but all reports were that the streets were improving. I didn't worry - met my friend, Paige, for margaritas and a mini-bitchfest after work (that's "margaritas" - plural - because I had one and she had one and that makes two!), then drove over to the public library branch at Mid City Mall for our monthly meeting of Women Who Write. Four of us actually made it, where we usually have 10 or 12. Ms. Emily wins the Nanook Award - she walked several miles rather than take her bicycle out in this weather. She's an adorably hardy soul!
We made short work of the meeting - even with critiquing a short story by one of the members, we were done by 8. I decided we didn't need groceries, stopped instead at Feeder's Supply for dog food and treats, and was home by 8:30.
I'd sent work home via e-mail Thursday afternoon, guessing that I might not be able to get out on Friday. Too much to do to be able to really relish an enforced day off... To get to our house, you have to go down a short but fairly steep hill, then back up a shorter but steeper one, and the driveway takes another sharp up-tick. I made it in, and I had no intention of even trying to make it out unless things were vastly improved. Our neighbors - none of whom has as steep a drive as we do - had wimped out and parked randomly around the culdesac, which is a little tight in the best weather. And since our drive is one car-width, we had to do the Vehicular Shuffle to get everyone in the order they needed to leave, which was a tight squeeze, what with about 40% of the street space taken up with two sedans, a station wagon, and a long-bed, king-cab pick-up truck...
I got a lot done yesterday, though. I'm usually more productive at home than at the office, to be honest - I pace myself better, and I don't have the distractions here. And when Ed got home, we went to Perfetto's for pizza.
They thought it was funny that we'd thought they might not be open. "We're from Wisconsin," Cindy laughed. "We're going to be here!" We knew that, but pointed out that most of their Friday night regulars aren't from Wisconsin, and we'd thought maybe business was slow and they'd decided to pack it in and cut back on overhead. But no, she said - Thursday night, they'd had two carryout orders and no dine-ins, but they were there. It's a family shop, so I expect the overhead for staying open in spite of the weather doesn't extend much past utilities.
Today, I've worked a little more - it was here, so I might as well make some headway on a couple of those projects - and done laundry. Youngest Child is moving in with a friend in a couple of weeks, and we're trying to get him organized so he can load his Vue and get moved with some degree of efficiency. Puts a damper on my plan to have the house back to pre-holiday order by mid-month, because I'm having to focus instead on his space and the rubble therein - but it will all happen. I just need to maintain my focus and hold my intention, even when I have to adapt the master plan. The thing is, my office space and the family room are now his staging area, which pretty much precludes any more organization in there until we're done with the moving thing...
I've been to the door in the past two days to let dogs out, let dogs in, put the cat out, bring the cat in, and only once to go anywhere. I've done three handbook revisions, a third revision on a "how it works" presentation, and written this one blog because I've been gone for weeks and I have to get back in the swing of it. The snow is lovely, and I've enjoyed sitting for a few minutes here and there by the back window, watching it fall while I drink my coffee. But more than ever, my muscles are twitching and my mind is racing, up the road and into the wind on my blue bicycle, which sits in the cold shed waiting for a warmer day.
17 November 2009
Slogging through
It's November, and it's raining.
I haven't written a word of the novel in about a week. I knew all along it wasn't going to get finished in November anyway -- I started it over a year ago and hadn't touched it in months, and it was getting really complicated before October ever got close to ending -- but I really meant to push this month.
Well, water under the bridge and all that. Will write tonight, before I go to bed. (It's not like I haven't done anything. The story is several pages farther along in my head -- it's just a matter of getting it down in black and white.)
Work is strange. I've decided to just put my head down, work my tushie off, and not think about the "what ifs" and "maybes." So far, so good. Except that I keep getting interrupted by anxious people -- and by people who (a) don't know what they want, (b) think they do, and (c) keep missing their own deadlines by a week or two. To date, I have not slapped anyone, although the thought has crossed my mind.
Yoga class today was wonderful. Our little yogi, Ashley-Brooke -- she who appears to be barely out of her teens but with a very old soul and a kooky sense of humor -- reminded us that the rain is the Earth's way of cleansing itself. Reminded me of sister Murial, who used to laugh when I would miss Friday night meditation for weeks, then show up just as the rain started: "Oh, here's Cynthia, and she's brought us a cleansing again!" So I felt connected to Murial from the beginning. But then Ashley-Brooke suggested that, it being the new moon and all, we might want to use this time to cleanse ourselves of something that was weighing us down.
I decided to let go of my crankiness. That's not to say I won't still snap at people who are too dumb to live. Or too mean to die. It just means, if I can do something productive to remove the obstacles in my path, I will do that instead of just sitting at my desk and gritching. So...
Two hours later, I was confronted with a communication from one of those people (never mind which), and I decided to stay calm, be rational, and discuss instead of react. And what happened? This individual got defensive, testy, and actually almost combative.
Geez Louise.
But now, another six hours after, I'm wondering if that's not just a knee-jerk reaction on her part. Or maybe even a perfectly reasonable reaction, if she interpreted my opening remarks as being somehow preachy or smug. So tomorrow, I'll go back and go at it from another direction.
This reminds me of the Lent several years ago, when I decided to give up gossip. It was kind of an amazing transformational experience. You should try it sometime. :-)
Meanwhile, I'm going to keep slogging through the rain, churning out words and looking for the USB connector so I can download the pictures I took last weekend. One of these days, there will be pictures on this blog...
I haven't written a word of the novel in about a week. I knew all along it wasn't going to get finished in November anyway -- I started it over a year ago and hadn't touched it in months, and it was getting really complicated before October ever got close to ending -- but I really meant to push this month.
Well, water under the bridge and all that. Will write tonight, before I go to bed. (It's not like I haven't done anything. The story is several pages farther along in my head -- it's just a matter of getting it down in black and white.)
Work is strange. I've decided to just put my head down, work my tushie off, and not think about the "what ifs" and "maybes." So far, so good. Except that I keep getting interrupted by anxious people -- and by people who (a) don't know what they want, (b) think they do, and (c) keep missing their own deadlines by a week or two. To date, I have not slapped anyone, although the thought has crossed my mind.
Yoga class today was wonderful. Our little yogi, Ashley-Brooke -- she who appears to be barely out of her teens but with a very old soul and a kooky sense of humor -- reminded us that the rain is the Earth's way of cleansing itself. Reminded me of sister Murial, who used to laugh when I would miss Friday night meditation for weeks, then show up just as the rain started: "Oh, here's Cynthia, and she's brought us a cleansing again!" So I felt connected to Murial from the beginning. But then Ashley-Brooke suggested that, it being the new moon and all, we might want to use this time to cleanse ourselves of something that was weighing us down.
I decided to let go of my crankiness. That's not to say I won't still snap at people who are too dumb to live. Or too mean to die. It just means, if I can do something productive to remove the obstacles in my path, I will do that instead of just sitting at my desk and gritching. So...
Two hours later, I was confronted with a communication from one of those people (never mind which), and I decided to stay calm, be rational, and discuss instead of react. And what happened? This individual got defensive, testy, and actually almost combative.
Geez Louise.
But now, another six hours after, I'm wondering if that's not just a knee-jerk reaction on her part. Or maybe even a perfectly reasonable reaction, if she interpreted my opening remarks as being somehow preachy or smug. So tomorrow, I'll go back and go at it from another direction.
This reminds me of the Lent several years ago, when I decided to give up gossip. It was kind of an amazing transformational experience. You should try it sometime. :-)
Meanwhile, I'm going to keep slogging through the rain, churning out words and looking for the USB connector so I can download the pictures I took last weekend. One of these days, there will be pictures on this blog...
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