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Blog started in Jan 2005: 1st entries for Write in Every Genre. Then the REAL ME begins |
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It Hurts When I Stop Talking Sometime in Fall of 1998, when a visit from Dad was infrequent, and primarily at the mercy of his 88 Toyota making the 50 mile journey, I was being treated to lunch. The restaurant was my choice, I think. Sisley Italian Kitchen at the Town Center mall was somewhere my dad had not yet tried, so that was my pick. Either I was being treated to the luxury of lunch and adult conversation without my husband and 5 year old son in tow, or that's just how the moment has lodged in my memory. The more I think about it, they probably were there, but enjoying the Italian food too much to bother interrupting. Daddy and his lady friend at the time, Anne, came up together and made a day of it with me and the family. We were eating together and talking about some of my scripts, stories, coverages, poems and other creative attempts that really were not seeing the light of day. I think I'd just finished a group reading of The Artist's Way and was in a terribly frenetic mood over my writing. I think I'd just given them an entire rundown on a speculative Star Trek script. My Dad asked me point blank, “Why don’t you write it?? Anne agreed. It sure sounded like I wanted to write it. Why wasn't I writing seriously? It's what I'd set out to do when earning my college degree in Broadcasting many years earlier. Heck, I should, I agreed non-verbally. “I will.” But, I didn’t. Blogs can be wild, unpredictable storehouses of moments, tangents, creative dervishes, if you will. I'm getting a firmer handle on my creative cycle. My mental compost heap (which is a catch phrase from Natalie Goldman or Julia Cameron - I can't think which, right now) finally seems to be allowing a fairly regular seepage of by-products. That may be a gross analogy, but I give myself credit to categorize my work in raw terms. It proves that I'm not so much the procrastinating perfectionist that I once was. Still, I always seem to need prompts and motivation. Being a self-starter is the next step. My attempt to keep up in the Write in Every Genre Contest at the beginning of the year seemed like a perfect point to launch the blog. |
| "...may your gravity by lightened by grace." a line from poem, Equilibrium by John O'Donohue Feels like a day to write. Rather than strictly denying myself a thing during Lent, I have watched my reactions to turning away from that thing, or more broadly, any "added" thing that I notice has me obsessively desiring or planning the acquisition of it. I chose a particularly hard one this year: bread. I also thought about denying myself (Starbucks) coffee for 40 days. I am not even a Catholic adherent -- I simply wanted to have a spiritual experience via the historically Catholic practice. In the first 15 days, I can report that I dutifully keep a journal of what mental struggles come, if they manifest at all. I did not truly go gluten-free. Balancing my emotions and the safety of my family in having to deal with my emotions is the prime consideration. My body, in the way it operates, needs carbs. But the elimination of bread makes my choices and the planning of meals more conscious. I have easily turned away some pan dulce offered by a co-worker, and feel accomplished in lumping muffins and donuts into the defined restriction column that is my bread. I also confess that I have not been entirely successful in just these first seventeen days of abstaining. My first blatant break took place this week since I was using up a sourdough loaf in preparing the family's evening meal. I at least consider it was worth the utilitarian joy of cheating with a quality product, rather than debasing myself for some second-rate, preservative-laden and/ or flavorless indulgence from a convenience store. It, or the offering today, is very likely the reason my mind has been pushed to write in the blog today. The company is providing pizza, and that is what I will accept today for lunch. (There might also be good salad). I chose, in advance, to accept bread if it is offered. To spend the time begging off, in my opinion, speaks from ego or the aggrandizement of willpower to another, and is as bad a practice. It is counter to the peace and poise I am trying to gain. So, still, I feel my experiment goes well. I feel balanced rather than aggrieved. I have a practiced ability to silently reflect what goes through my mind. Having this quality of equilibrium, considering my divine essence in the experience of human want, is this not how the desert wandering of Jesus magnified his purpose, at least as the story goes? During the season of Lent, and entering into the sacred mysteries of Easter, I appreciate this life --accentuated by my conscious application of spiritual and scientific inquiry about what it is. |
| Ideas are abandoned quicky, sometimes for me within a week. Mindset is not. I need to think about what part of my usually supportive and peaceful mindset hinders me in this area. Submitting a resume for a new job usually hits this trap. Despite how excited I may get about a job description, the fact that I do not have a resume worked out for a particular leap -- requiring me to rewrite it -- that work stops me, I guess. My spouse told me he had a bad dream yesterday -- finding himself homeless and alone. I know he did not read my last blog post. But huh? |
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