Where's the Words?

I don't know where they're hiding, I don't know why they won't come hang out with me, and mostly I don't know ... what? That's the thing, my brain has decided to unfriend me. The steel doors have slammed shut, there's no more room at the inn, clever thoughts and finger translations have gone AWOL.

Not that I blame my brain for being somewhat pissy with me. I've put it through a lot and it's just tired. It's wants a vacation, it wants something else to do the thinking. It probably wants to have some fun. Right now it just feels like a blank expression.

I've been sitting here, so nicely propped on my bed, with laptop in perfect position. Finger's poised, head empty. I have added 73 words to my story in the last hour. Writing at the speed of light! It's just not coming, this story of mine. I'm pretty sure it's because I've taken such a break and this week has been super hell at work with 13th hour deadlines and my head is just tired.

Even this post is incoherent.

I'm going to get some chocolate milk and clean the kitchen. Maybe cleaning off dust and crumbs will clear some space in my head for my story. Maybe. Don't know. Gonna try.

My Horse And His Broken Back

So, exactly how many times have I climbed back up on the horse after a too long break from writing this story? I honestly feel really sorry for him. We hang out, we're best friends (or like Forrest Gump says, "peas and car-rots"), then I start to get moody and grumpy and I piss and moan and walk away from the stable. My poor horse hangs out there alone. No one puts a blanket over him, brushes his coat or coos in his ear. That is until I come bouncing back to him, spirits high and determination pumping. Until I get moody and grumpy and I start to piss and moan again.

I highly doubt I need to explain this rotten behavior, seeing as though I've said it way too many times already. I'm tired, blah/blah/blah, work is so busy, blah/blah/blah, I don't know what I'm doing, blah/blah/blah, I want to spend time with my family. Yeah, I'm not going to blah/blah/blah that one. These gripes are not specific to writing, anyone experiences them when trying to fit another thing in their life that they dearly want. And even though I don't need to explain, I probably don't need to apologize, it's simply in my nature to do so. I know no other way.

I'm sorry, I have been tired and full of stupid self doubt.

So, as I carefully walk back to the stable with a big cube of sugar in my hand (do horses like that? Or a carrot? Carrot cake?), I formulate my new strategy to climb on his back. Again. I went to the PNWA Conference this last week, and I have to say, I don't remember being around so many people that shared my love who were also genuinely nice and giving and talented. The experience was exhilarating to the point of exhaustion - no lie. I had the chance to pitch to several agents, which was an incredible experience alone (as a side bar, it felt a lot like what I imagine the kids on American Idol feel like, or a cattle call for a broadway show. It was crazy and exciting and terrifying to be in a group of 90 or so people lining up for 4 minute pitches to someone that could potentially be your partner in crime. Kinda like speed dating I suppose. Anyway - ), and walked away with 4 offers to submit portions of my manuscript. For someone like me, that is a pretty incredible thing! Actually, for anyone who wants to write and be published, it's an incredible thing. And terrifying. Regardless of any of that, my strategy is to follow the advice of Greg Bear, who was given the same advice from Ray Bradbury, "Don't get sophisticated in your writing, have fun!" Some people would call that an "Ah-ha" moment, I'm going to call it a "Duh" moment. And tack it onto the top of my laptop screen so I don't forget it.

So, thanks for listening, if you are. I don't know how long it's been since I posted, I honestly don't want to look. I might get depressed about it. So instead, I'm moving forward, climbing back on my horse. Thank God he loves me unconditionally!

It's the Journey

Well, it has been a while hasn't it? Admittedly, I've been wallowing in a world of spreadsheets and deadlines, in latent grief and general gloom. Some may say that the grief and the gloom is the place where writers live, though for me, this is not the case. I don't find gloom inspiring, it's that damn heavy blanket. Well guess what? It's time to get out of bed, so to speak.

This last week I've been on vacation. I'd planned it this way, scheduled it because I knew that after the many large deadlines I had I would be a crispy mess and would need some time away from customers and the daily fire drills of my job. I was right, the week was much needed. And as it turns out, quite thematic. It began with a college campus visit for my son and ended with the graduation of one of my daughters from college (followed, of course, by the consumption of the world's best chocolate cake). I'm the first to admit that I geek out about education, probably because I've never finished my own. I love the pursuit of learning and following ones dream. To me, it's the most amazing gift you can give yourself.

I was reflecting on all of this over my morning coffee and morning pages. I remember leaning over to another one of my sons yesterday who was getting fairly impatient with the 1,000 plus names that were being called during commencement. I told him that every one of these kids worked very hard to be there, didn't give up and kept going even when they were tired and frustrated. That they deserved our support and attention, as this is a huge undertaking. I reminded him that this is going to be him someday. He may have heard me, it may have went in one ear and out the other, I don't know. But it rang in my own ears, mingling with the many inspiring speeches I heard over the weekend.

While going back to school is not something I want to do right now, I can't help but draw parallels to what I'm going through in writing this novel. Yes, this is a big undertaking, and one that I have yet to complete - ever. It's a big, important dream of mine. There were several times that I didn't feel that there was any way I could write this story again, only to pick myself up and try one more time. I've cried, I've fist pumped the air when I nailed something, I've stressed over not knowing how to proceed and doubted my abilities. I've wondered if all the work would be for nothing, if I was worthy of the task. I've had moments where I was "in the pocket" and didn't have a shred of doubt that I was doing the absolute right thing. Sound familiar to anyone?

So, like I said before, it's time to get out of bed once again. To get dressed and go to class - or rather sit with my story and march it forward. Time to take each step in the journey. Every word written, every word revised, every idea that comes to me while washing my hair or chopping vegetables for dinner is a step toward commencement for me - the completion of a novel, the contribution of story, which I treasure in it's many forms.

I'm thinking now of one of the young men that was on the college tour with my son and I. He asked me if I was applying. I laughed and said no, that I was there to bring my son. He told me it was never too late. Of course it's not too late, but now is not my time. I'm revising that thought. My time is now. My time to keep going instead of giving up. I'm not working for a diploma, I'm working for the chance to type "the end".

And yes, when that happens, there will be cake!

How Do You Break Up With a Vampire?

I don't want to sound ungrateful, I really don't, but there is this thing that is sucking the life out of me. I try to resist it's charms, to just let it be a part of my life, but sometimes it consumes me to the point where I simply feel drained. On the worst days, I feel like I'm a shell of a person. Hollow on the inside - nothing left to give. This thing, this Vampire, is my job.

There are aspects of my job that I really love. The people I work with are tremendous, I wouldn't trade knowing them and spending time with them for anything. I love being able to utilize my brain, love helping out my customers when they feel like there's no way they can do it on their own, love conquering difficult problems. Fantastic. But all this love comes with a price tag: my energy. There's just not a lot left over after I'm done with my day. The charming Vampire has taken it to feed his own need.

So, what do I do? How do I keep my job but place enough boundaries on it so that I can function after I leave the office? I'm wading into a season of my work that is incredibly taxing (no, I'm not a CPA) - and well, wading is not really the word. I'm more "neck deep". This is the time where my greatest challenge is to keep my head above water, choke it out if I get pulled under, and move on. For months.

Is there a way to turn this Vampire into just a regular person in my life? Once turned to a blood sucking fiend, can it ever return? I'm not sure. Also not sure if I should break up and join the world of the living. This Vampire does provide me a lifeline. I wish I could figure out how to keep it at arms distance until I know I can sustain on my own. But, maybe that's not the way it happens. I have no clue.

Meanwhile, I want to work on that draft of my novel. I want to revise it, make it complete and get it out to readers. My goal is to do that before mid-July. The Pacific Northwest Writers Conference is coming then and it would be a fantastic thing to go and pitch to agents and editors, see what's out there, to learn some good lessons. Please, Mr. Vampire, leave a little blood in me so that I can do this? I'd appreciate it.

Looking at the Horse

Days like this remind me of recovering from a nasty cold. Days when I'd been feeling so poorly for so long that I'd forgotten what it felt like to be "normal". Then at some point it occurs to me that I'm ok, doing just fine, my skin is mine again. Lately, I've been comfortable in my skin again, which is a good place to be. That's not to say that my eyes don't look at things differently, that my heart doesn't want to reach out less, but it's more about being in harmony - head and heart working together, friends once again.

Which makes me think I should start looking at the horse again. The horse, namely, is my novel. It's been set aside for about four weeks, and rightly so, but I'm wondering if it's time to give it a look-see. I keep thinking "I need to get back on the horse", except I didn't fall off it. Or off the wagon. Or any moving article. I simply put the horse in it's coral, letting hang out without me. But now my skin is mine again.

Maybe it's time to get reacquainted.

I don't know if I'll like what I have any more, I don't know if I'll want to approach things differently or not. Will it be like meeting an old boyfriend for coffee? Yes, we had fire, my novel and I. We had great times and times when we fought. Times when my thoughts were consumed by it, dreams were filled with it, and wrists ached from typing it. It's been work and play, passion and fuel for what has been called my "grumpy pants". I've thought about letting hang out alone forever, possibly letting rot. But you know, that seems cruel - to it and to me.

It's time to look at the horse...

Peace (2nd try)

peace noun \pes\

1. a state of tranquility or quiet
2. freedom from disquieting or oppressive thoughts or emotions
3. a pact or agreement to end hostilities between those who have been at war or state of enmity

 --Or, In Italian, the language I most want to learn first

s. pace; trattato di pace; (Dir) ordine pubblico, queite pubblica; armonia concordia; traquillita, serenita

For some reason, this word has been going through my head these last few days. I'm not sure where I'm going with this, so bear with me if you will, while I noodle this one out.

Peace. The word echoes in my head when I drive to work, it interrupts the song on the radio on the way home, it repeats itself in Italian to me while I'm cleaning the pan after dinner. Peace while I'm brushing my teeth. Peace while I wait for my glass to fill with water out of the magic hole in the refrigerator door. 

Peace. 

It's a simple word for something that carries such a huge impact. I'm not sure why this word is sticking to me right now. It's not obnoxious like that dang song I can never get out of my mind (Carly Rae, I'm not going to call you. No offense, but quit asking). It's more like a quiet word born from a deep voice that really isn't my own. Maybe because the word is too important to be mine. 

Peace. Is this what I'm striving for? To quiet the thoughts that creep in when I see a picture of Seth on my phone scroll by on the little tile? To calm my nerves when I'm frustrated because I didn't realize that being an analyst was synonymous with being a fire fighter? You know, I think that may be the easy answer. I don't think of this word in times of stress, I think of it in the quiet times in between.

But the frequency lately makes me wonder, have I been at war with myself? We've all been our own worst enemy at times and I almost think that my psyche is tired of it. I'm tired of wondering how life will turn out, if I'm doing the right thing for myself, for my family. Am I making the right decisions in my career - or should I bail on my career for that matter and do something else? Something less stressful or something terrifying - like risking it all. I feel I have been at war; my practical side battling my whimsy, both suffering casualties. I'm tired of war. 

I think I crave peace. This must go back to the "be present today" feeling I've been having. I don't feel like worrying so much. I want to have a good day. I want to be at peace. What would it feel like if I just enjoyed my circumstances such as they are? And not just for a few hours, what if I enjoyed the entire day? I'm pausing now as I write this. I'm trying to think of days where I didn't worry or think about the future once. I'm finding it creepy that I can't think of one. Wow. I'm honestly not sure I'm capable of it, but perhaps it's time to give it a better - or conscious - try. 

So, let's look at two definitions for this word that has been echoing in my head:

 " A pact or agreement to end hostilities between those who have been at war or in a state of enmity". Let's start there. Why do I feel the urge to beat the present over the head with my stick from the future? Time to care for the present. The future can take care of itself. I can't control it or guarantee one darn thing in it, or even that it will happen for that matter. It's time to not obsess over it any more - or at least not nearly as much. Live today. Kiss my husband now, not later. Listen to my kids now, not when I'm less tired. Feel now, not when it's convenient. If I can work on that, then maybe - just maybe - I'll achieve the first part of the definition: "a state of tranquility or quiet". 

Don't get me wrong, I have no illusions that my life will be like a Japanese garden, but if I can quiet just a couple of the voices in my head, that would be nice. I've got a few in mind that can take a hike. The perfectly slim woman in the power suit is first to go, she annoys me the most. Next is the eighty year old critic who's lower lip sticks out further than the top one. He is closely followed by the hipster. All those voices can leave me alone and let me enjoy my now, have some tranquility in my day. But that voice that belongs to the girl that likes to be adventurous? I might keep her around. I kind of like her...

An Intentional Life

I've said before than I tend to be a very impatient person. Not with people mind you, but with my direction. Part of this, I believe, is that I'm always looking forward. The future is fascinating to me, rich with possibilities and dreams. The future holds the key to what I should be doing now. If I can see the end result, I can better prepare and take necessary steps today. Simple.

It's impatience that plagues me when I don't have the answers to the future. I don't have the plan, the thing I know I should be striving for. The what and the why. With the death of my mother, I thought I had a fairly clear picture of where I should head. It hadn't changed much from before her death, and if anything it got a hair clearer. The death of our Grandson, however, muddied my waters and nothing was clear. Perhaps that's one of the reasons I was searching so hard for answers, for meaning. I needed that path so I could direct my energy forward. Present was not pleasant, so to speak.

I've had so many questions, and I don't really think I've found many answers, but I've had some thoughts that feel right. Nothing can change what has happened or change how sad Seth's death makes us feel. However there's always one thing within our control: how we respond to events in our lives. This is the one thing that any of us has the power to choose.

I have little idea now what my future holds for me, or what direction I should take. Do I keep writing my novel, in one form or another, or is there something else that I should be doing? They say that grief sometimes makes you face your own mortality, makes you take inventory of your life. I believe this is what is happening inside of me. The one thing I absolutely know is this: I want to make a difference, I want to make it count.

I feel that the time is right to take a step to the side from the forward looking practice and look at the present day instead. To live with intention. What if I decided to challenge myself to seize opportunities to do something good each day? For example, today I've been thinking about a professor I had a few years ago when I took a Stress Management class. While most of the things that were taught were common sense, there were some things that I learned that helped me a great deal, mostly concerning how different types of people communicate. This one man changed the way I perceived myself and the world around me. Wouldn't it be nice if he knew that? If I were a teacher, I'd appreciate it.

So, this is what I'm going to do: I'm going to send him an email and let him know the impact he had on my life. This one thing, this small thing that will take me all of probably 15-30 minutes of my day at most, could possibly make his day. I don't expect anything in return, I don't need to strike up an ongoing conversation, but this one thing is a good thing to do. And I like that.

Which makes me wonder, what might be the good thing I do tomorrow? I'm not sure. I know my work day is going to be crazy busy and I may feel drained by the end of it. But perhaps, somewhere in the middle of it, a few kind words spoken at a time I'd normally stay quiet and keep my nose to the grindstone might be the ticket. Perhaps it's being more present with my family that evening instead of being wrapped up in my own head. Maybe I'll push some shopping carts into the corral on my way into the store. I'm not sure. I'm not even sure that I can remember to take opportunities every day.

But maybe part of the point is to try.

So, that's what I'm going to do. To try. To see life now as an opportunity. It's a precious gift and not one to be squandered and taken for granted. I want to lean another language. What's stopping me from doing that? I want to let people know how much they mean to me, what's stopping me from doing that? I want to spread some good in this world. What's stopping me from doing that? Usually the answer is "I don't have time, I have other things I have to do". Well, how long does it take to learn one word a day? How long does it take to buy a bag of pretzels out of the vending machine and leave it in some random cubicle with a note that says "enjoy"? Not long, I think. So I believe I should try.

Speaking of which, I have an email to write...