why i’m not writing a novel. yet.
Getting stuck sucks. Getting out of getting stuck is a wonderful feeling, but then, inevitably, you’ll get stuck again. That is, unless you can find a way out of the quicksand, or the mud, or the muck, or the crap.
I remembered yesterday that this month is NaNoWriMo, or National Novel Writing Month. The concept was born 10 years ago, when I had just begun journalling online. I was totally engulfed in the idea of NaNoWriMo by the second year. I wanted to do it, but every year I was scared. Who did I think I was to be able to craft a 50,000 word novel in 30 days?
I’ve never written anything that is remotely novel-icious. My entire writing experience is autobiographical. I was fighting the idea that I could create a fictional piece of work in 30 days with only my life experience to guide me. So I chickened out.
This month, I was excited, and I contemplated my glorious potential. And then I chickened out. Here are all the self-imposed reasons why I cannot write a novel this month:
1. I am really busy at work. This is the month before ski season really launches, so I spend this month placing orders and hiring staff. This might not sound like a very ‘busy’ pair of duties, but trust me, it gets pretty hairy. In order to write 50,000 words, I’m pretty sure my work would suffer.
2. I am leaving in a week to go to Mexico. No one in their right mind would take a vacation to Mexico and plan to sit in front of their laptop every day and write. Well, I suppose that very well-paid writers, or un-published writers with wanderlust could do this, but then it wouldn’t be a vacation, it would be ‘work.’ And this is definitely not going to be a working vacation.
3. I don’t have any good ideas. One of the only things that comes to mind when I sit down to write lately is the adventures of my current life. I’m not sure that with all the real life experiences I’m having right now, that I’m capable of inventing and writing (and therefore living in) a fantasy world for a month. Part of me thinks that sounds a little dangerous.
4. It’s too hard. Yes, I know what a cop-out this is. I’m not saying that any of these excuses are valid, but this is one of my genuine objections to participating in NaNoWriMo this month. It’s just too hard to do.
5. I have no one to cheer me on. Another lame excuse, but how much better do we feel when we accomplish things and someone is there to say “you can do it!!” I think I would be more successful if there were someone there to encourage me.
6. I’m a lousy writer. This is subjective, of course. When I read other books/blogs, etc, I am constantly amazed at the way other people piece together words to make eloquently beautiful (or oddly sensible) sentences. Sometimes I think to myself, “I would have NEVER thought to say it that way!” and suddenly I am a bad writer, because I am not as good as some of the stuff I read. I know. Subjective.
7. I’m stuck. Here’s my quicksand: I’ll wake up in the morning, see the sunshine, and have a REALLY positive outlook. I’m genuinely satisfied with my life. I get in the shower, let the warm water fall over my body, and I feel happy. I get dressed and feel confident. I get in my car, and within 3 songs, I’m totally, completely destroyed.
It’s not the song, necessarily (although sometimes it is). Sometimes it’s just being alone with my thoughts, with nothing else to do but the same mindless drive I’ve been making for the last 6 years. It forces me into a state of meditation – which occasionally leads to martyr-tation instead.
My emotions run such a course each day that I’m surprised that I’ve not become moderately schizophrenic. I talk to myself in totally different voices each hour of each day:
“You’re an incredible person, and you deserve to give love and be loved.”
“You’re a pest. Leave your friends alone, let them call you.”
“You can’t do it all.”
“You are Wonder Woman. You can do anything.”
“You’re beautiful, and everyone admires your strength and courage.”
“You’re becoming pathetic. Snap out of it.”
So my NaNoWriMo this month, instead of writing a 50,000 word novel, is to get myself out of the muck. Let’s call it NaSaSaMo (National Save Sari Month). I am committed to completing that task, so that on December 5th, one month from today, I will be able to display my story of truth and pride and peace – albeit un-written, maybe that will come next year – for all to see.
1 comment November 5, 2009
i’ll believe it when i see it.
My parents love Kenny Loggins. “He puts on one hell of a show,” they’d say. As a 20-something, I would roll my eyes and assume that my parents were just fuddy-duddies who liked geezer music. After all, Loggins and Messina are doing a reunion tour right now. They just played nearby, in (wait for it….) Wendover, Nevada.
But once, when I was about 25, Kenny Loggins went on tour. And he was playing here in Utah. And I bought a ticket. And you know what? He puts on one hell of a show.
————
Qiana was originally going to be an only child. Friends and Random People Who Like To Give Unsolicited Advice would tell me that I should have a second child. That it would be good for her to have a sibling, and that she would be happier later in life if she had a sister or brother.
I’ve fought this one for a long time. Raising two children was twice as challenging once I became a single parent. And I still occasionally believe that there’s nothing wrong with being an only child. My father is an only child, and he turned out to be a pretty upstanding dude.
But I spent last weekend at home with my family. And my mom passed away three years ago, which means I don’t see her side of the family much anymore. My dad’s parents are both deceased, so now he’s the only one left. I have no uncles or aunts or cousins on his side of the family. He IS his side of the family.
I have a sister. She is the only one in my family that really takes the time to talk to me, or to ask about what’s happening in my life. She checks in when she hasn’t heard from me in a while. She gives me advice that I would have never thought of before, because she thinks from a different (married, educated, logical, straight) place. Sure, I hated her guts when we were growing up, but now I realize that she is irreplaceable, and it makes me incredibly grateful that Qiana will also have that as an adult.
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I’ve recently had an opportunity to experience something that I previously believed wasn’t true. I listened to what everyone else said, and I brushed it away.
Dre and I met briefly earlier this week to share a bottle of wine and discuss some misinterpreted information that we’d both recently received. Until this point, we hadn’t really talked or seen each other in quite a while.
Everyone has been telling me that the woman I love isn’t in a good place right now. They all said, “She’s just not the same person we once knew. She’s in a funk.” I didn’t believe it… at least not completely. I knew something wasn’t right, but I (selfishly) assumed that she was running away from ME, not hiding from herself.
But then I saw it. Like seeing ghosts, like watching someone eat 68 hot dogs in 10 minutes, or watching the acrobatics of the Cirque de Soleil performances, I didn’t believe it until it was right there before my eyes.
And now I get it. I understand what they meant. And I could feel the pang in my heart while I watched her across the table. The spark is gone, the enthusiasm has waned, the passion has fizzled. It has many names and many descriptions, but she’s “in a funk.”
If I could, I would scoop her up and nestle her head in my arm. I would rock her to sleep and sing her lullabies. I would take her to a place where she could see her greatness, and where she can breathe in the chill of a new day, and breathe out a sigh of relief that the past is gone, and today is a new day. I would protect her from regretting the past or worrying about the future.
Now that I’ve seen it, I’m better able to understand. And that changes everything. My entire investment and expectation for this relationship has transitioned completely, and I am making efforts to live from a place that loves unconditionally. I am not as broken as I thought I was – which is not to say that she is MORE broken than I am, but that we are both living different experiences and that we both have life lessons to learn.
I don’t know what she is supposed to be learning at this moment, but I do know what I’m supposed to be learning: trust, faith, and love. And I’ll believe that I’ve achieved that when I see it in myself.
Add comment October 31, 2009
why failure is good news.
I just spent four days in an intense self-help seminar. This seminar is a spinoff of est, which was very popular in Northern California when I was a small child. est became the first of many Large Group Awareness Training seminars. People called it a religion, some called it a cult. My parents sent me to est when I was a teenager, presumably because I was really good at shoplifting, and they wanted me to stop.
Eventually, as a senior in high school, I stopped shoplifting. Not because of my weekend experience at est, though. I stopped because one day my mother refused to pick me up from the department store’s security offices, and I was hauled off to Juvenile Detention overnight. Nothing else my parents had tried up to that point had influenced me enough to stop shoplifting, but being booked into Juvenile Detention worked like a charm.
Change happens when you’re ready, and not one second sooner. When the student is ready, the teacher appears.
So I’d been toying with the idea of attending one of these Large Group Awareness Trainings lately. There are several – nearly identical trainings held around the state. They are all focused on the same goal, which is to get a big group of people in a room and within 3 or 4 days, facilitate a discussion and create activities wherein each participant can have an “A-HA!” moment, better known as a ‘breakthrough.’
I was ready for a breakthrough. I needed that moment in my life. The student was ready. I signed up for the program.
There is a big emphasis on keeping the process of the training a complete secret. Originally I thought that it was for selfish purposes – because they didn’t want anyone copying their methods. You can’t take notes, you can’t record or take photos, you basically can’t do anything except sit in your chair or participate in the activities laid out for you during the program.
Now that the training is over, I’m very glad that no one told me what would happen, because having everything be a ’surprise’ was a great thing for me to experience. I’m the kind of person who wants to know everything ahead of time, so that I can be better prepared. I went into this training completely blind, and that turned out to be perfect for me.
For that reason, in case some of you are interested in doing something like this in your own town, I’m going to honor my word, and keep the processes to myself.
There are a lot of things that I can share with you, however. I can’t say that I necessarily learned anything NEW, but I certainly took a frying pan upside the head about some things that I had forgotten. Lessons that had been drowned out by my stress. Here are some of them:
Lesson #1: There are two courses of action. You either DO it, or you DON’T do it. Halfway doesn’t count. ‘Trying’ doesn’t count either. Are you ‘trying’ to be better at responding to your emails? There’s only one way to respond to your emails, and that is to respond to the emails. If you didn’t respond to an email, then you’re unsuccessful – AND THAT’S GOOD NEWS, because now you know what it looks like when you don’t succeed. Start over.
[Editor's Note: I believe that Yoda has either been through, or inspired the est training module.]
Lesson #2: Forgiveness is a huge responsibility. During the course of the training, we were encouraged to find forgiveness for those people in our lives who we felt had harmed, hurt, or wronged us in some way. While it was easy for me to sit in that room and say “I forgive _____ for ______,” it was much harder to keep from attaching myself to the blame again once I was back in the real world.
Being willing to take on the responsibility of forgiving someone required that I be very, very brave. I had been terrified of offering true forgiveness. I was scared that forgiving would make me more vulnerable. But now that I’ve sat with that emotion for a while, and I’ve felt safe in that space, it’s a tremendous feeling to know that I’m not harboring negative feelings towards certain people anymore.
Because forgiveness is your responsibility, it is possible that you might ‘try’ to forgive, but fail. Saying “I forgive you” and then continuing to hold a grudge against that person is not forgiving…AND THAT’S GOOD NEWS, because now you know what it’s like to be unsuccessful at forgiving. Start over.
Lesson#3: RIGHT and WRONG are painful words. In the process of life, we often think that we need to be right about something. When we have a need to be right, that means that someone else will inevitably be wrong.
In relationships, I have been governed by a need to be right all the time. My way was always the best way. No one else knew better than I did how to discipline my children, organize the cupboards, get a job, or keep the flame alive. I shut off to other ideas, because I knew what I was doing. Of course, whenever I was right, the other person was always wrong.
No one likes to be told that they are wrong. How can you shift your thinking when a solution is required?
Try “this isn’t working” instead of “you’re wrong!” There’s some finality to being ‘wrong,’ but when something isn’t working, there’s an option for change; an option to make it work. When you’re in relationship with someone who you must see regularly; a colleague, a partner, a child, a sibling, it can be harder to step away from right and wrong, but when you can recognize the long-term benefits of phrasing things in a more positive way, it will become easier.
When you find yourself needing to be right all the time, or blaming someone else for being wrong, you’re forcing someone else to lose. AND THAT’S GOOD NEWS, because now you know what it’s like to force right and wrong upon someone whose beliefs are just as valid and correct as yours. Start over.
Lesson #4: Making excuses gets you nowhere. Being the sort of person who has trouble taking responsibility for failing can be a tough row to hoe. Constantly blaming other things and other people for mistakes is an awesome way to pile on the self-guilt. Who needs that? Not me!
For me, learning this lesson happened nearly simultaneously with Lesson #1. It wasn’t working to make excuses, because the plain and simple truth was that I didn’t do it (whatever it was). My thoughts have become less stressful and even lighter – if that’s even a word that can be applied to thoughts – when I can take responsibility for a mistake or a non-action.
Believe it or not, it’s even EASIER still to take responsibility for things that might not have even been my responsibility in the first place. Taking on 100% of the responsibility for the failure – even if I was only responsible for allowing that person to fail – gives me a sense of optimism, a way of knowing that I am in full control of my experiences and can do things differently the next time.
If you’re the type who likes to make excuses for everything, then you’re failing to see the opportunity to lighten your load. Guess what? That’s REALLY GOOD NEWS, since you can more easily recognize your behavior now. Start over.
Lesson #5: FAILURE IS GOOD NEWS. In case you haven’t been paying attention, the one lesson that I took with me from this weekend was this: the realization that I have failed in the past is REALLY GOOD NEWS, because I’ve been given an opportunity to learn things about myself and the way that I behave / react / feel under certain circumstances. I have a chance to re-evaluate my actions and make some changes that will not only help me, but will be beneficial for every person that I come into contact with.
So I’m starting over, and it’s going to be a thrilling, challenging ride.
2 comments October 13, 2009
things I’ve learned while being a doormat.
For the majority of the last ten years or so, my blogging has centered around one thing: me and my relationship highs and lows. I should probably re-name this blog ‘Sari’s Love Life,’ but that wouldn’t be entirely correct. Although it encompasses the majority of what I’ve written about, love has always taught me something. I have gone back and re-read posts from years past and realized how much my thoughts and perceptions changed as a result of that particular situation.
Example? I learned that shoving your husband down a flight of stairs because you’re angry with him for cheating on you doesn’t solve anything. It does, however, make you feel powerful for one split second, and no matter how the night turned out, you carry that power-story with you for the rest of your life (“I’m tough! I pushed my husband down a flight of stairs once….just like in the movies!”)
Another example? I’ve learned that love is hard. I don’t mean like sometimes you have a disagreement and you go to bed mad, I mean it’s downright HARD. All of it. Being committed is hard. Being genuine is hard. Being vulnerable is hard. Being selfless is hard. Being strong is hard. Through it all, I have learned that giving up because you feel as though you’re at your wits end isn’t ever the answer – at least it’s never really worked for me. The only way to keep a relationship strong is to do the hard stuff. You can’t ignore it, you can’t pretend it’s not there, you have to face it, head on.
Today I’m learning more about myself than I’ve ever known. It’s amazing how much I thought I knew when I was fifteen. It’s amazing how much I thought I knew when I was twenty five. Now that I’m thirty five, I’ve learned to accept the fact that Learning Never Ends.
So I’ve recently been a doormat. I’ve been waiting patiently for my lady to come back home, letting her call all the shots. This has been going on for about… oh, the last 10 months. I believe that she and I are magic, I believe that we are meant to grow old together. She doesn’t believe that right now. I believe that she will change her mind.
(Power of Positive Thinking)
In the meantime, I’ve recognized my doormat status, and have tried to do things that occupy my time instead of moping around the house wondering if she’s thinking about me as much as I’ve been thinking about her. As my wonderful friend Alisha pointed out, it only hurts me.
Lesson number one: Moping only hurts you. Why be a martyr?
Rather than moping, I have done my best to re-focus. Here is what else I’ve learned so far:
I have a great shelf of books in the basement. I have self-help books, I have wonderful, intriguing novels, I have How To books on things like palmistry and calligraphy. I tend to buy books with the grandest of intentions, but never until moments like these do I actually pick them up and read them. I’ve learned that I absolutely adore the writing of Marianne Williamson, Jeanette Winterson, and that guy who wrote the book about the Four Agreements. Smart dude, he is.
Eating is overrated. Okay, I’m only partially kidding – I really have been eating, don’t worry. But what is it about emotional crisis that steals your appetite? I sit down to eat and here’s what happens: nothing sounds delicious, I’m full in less than 10 bites, and afterwards I’m exhausted. I don’t get it.
Painting is cathartic. I discovered painting many, many years ago in my sister’s bedroom. She had some paper and a few watercolors and a paintbrush or two, and after squeezing a pea-sized amount of paint into the upside-down lid of a mason jar, she said, “Go for it! It doesn’t matter if it looks like anything, just paint!”
Since that moment I’ve always wished that I was An Artist. I have several original pieces in my home and office, and I’m very proud to know the artists personally, and mildly jealous of them just the same. I’ve dreamed of coffee shop art galleries or having to put a price on my artwork so that someone can whip out their wallet and gush over my talents. But the truth is, I paint because it’s a means for emotional release. I don’t really care what happens to it afterward, and most of the time it’s just a crappy reminder of how much my heart hurt at that moment.
I went on a panting rampage yesterday – 6 pieces in one day. I didn’t eat, I took few breaks, and I just kept going and going and going. After my painting jag, I went to see The Woman Who Was My Girlfriend but Whose Status In My Life Is Currently Undefined, and finally found out how to define that status. Single.
Writing is cathartic. I’ve always kept my thoughts on paper or screen somewhere. It might be love letters that I’ve written and sent away, it might be notes to myself, it might be on scraps of paper that get tucked into books that I won’t pick up again for years (Yes, I actually have found a couple of really awesome memory-inducing scribbled notes that way). Writing is a great way to make sense of the jumbled up thoughts in my head. Forcing me to put them on paper gives them some order and accountability. Seeing my story makes it REAL, and it gives it some tangibility that makes me realize that I’m not the only person who has ever felt this way. If I were, there wouldn’t be words in the English language to define it.
Awareness is the greatest healer. I heard this phrase for the first time ten years ago in massage therapy school – in a class designed to look at the human body and underlying muscle tissue, and find the places that the body was holding poor habits. In it’s basic sense, if you are aware that you are slouching, and you are aware that slouching causes back pain, you can fix it.
Awareness Is The Greatest Healer.
How powerful a statement, and how painfully obvious all at the same time. Knowing what went wrong is the first path to a solution. Become more aware of your surroundings. Watch, listen, and learn.
Which leads me to my next favorite phrase of the week, and another lesson:
If everything seems to be going wrong, FIND OUT WHY. I’ve been consciously trying to listen more intently this week, and that act of listening (and not talking) has given me the insight to recognize what went wrong, and why. It’s amazing what I didn’t hear until I got out of my own head and started listening to what people have been telling me all along. If you’re not getting what you want out of a situation, find out why. It might be your fault. In fact, it usually is.
Don’t be afraid to admit defeat. Sometimes, no matter how much you want it, no matter how optimistic you are, it’s just not in the cards. Remember that you’re not the only person in the world, there are forces of nature that are stronger than you. Giving into those forces isn’t ‘losing,’ it’s just changing your course. And we all know what happens when you take the road less traveled.
Add comment October 5, 2009
Wabi Sabi: The Beauty of Imperfection
I stumbled across this article earlier today after searching for a quote that related to the beauty in being less-than-perfect.
I have been realizing that certain life experiences are imperfect. I have looked back so many times and thought to myself, “if only I had done something different.” I’m working on understanding that the past is now gone, and the only moment I have to live is this one, right now. I know I have to make peace with any past mistakes that have been made, and those things that have been broken in my life are teaching me to appreciate the beauty as a result of those broken pieces.
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Ring the bells that still can ring.
Forget your perfect offering.
There is a crack, a crack in everything.
That’s how the light gets in.
—Leonard Cohen
Tucked away in the deepest heart of Japan, somewhere beyond city life, probably beyond country life, resting in a humble shack on a simple shelf in a nearly bare room, you can find a really powerful idea about beauty. This idea, this way of life, this way of being, goes against everything the contemporary American culture sells. It is so radical, it goes toe-to-toe with any notion that the way things are—even when they are falling apart—are not the way things ought to be.
The idea is scoffed at by those who offer something more beautiful, and bigger and better. Yet if we can find our way past the standard-issue scoffing, hunt down this old idea, and recognize it as the pearl of great price, we can heal these painful beauty obsessions of ours. Really, we can.
A Simple Idea
What is this simple idea that has the power to take on an entire capitalistic culture, or at least the capitalistic culture within us? Wabi Sabi, the art and practice of honoring the imperfect.
Yes, there actually is a whole field of study and devotion to this very topic we women are starving for. Wabi Sabi celebrates the cracked pot, the aged desk, the beaten up fishing rod, and the rusting bed frame that has become an outdoor border for a flower “bed” in the yard. It is Wabi, the “humble,” alongside Sabi, “the beauty of the natural progression of time.” (It is also much more and far deeper than that, but this definition is a start.) It leaves behind the pursuit of perfection while bringing appreciation to the simple, unaffected beauty of things as they are.
Which includes us. You and me, Wabi Sabi. The real us, below all our crazy attempts at being how we are supposed to be and all of our insecurities because we still have not pulled it off. Weathered by time, all our cockiness worn off, like the shine of brass on buckles and bangles, when we are Wabi Sabi we are simply beautiful because we exist. Nothing flashy. No need for a six-figure contract with options. Just us, with our weathered faces that have seen every expression known to humanity, our often sagging or misshapen breasts, and the hips and thighs that have carried us through our history, the good times and the bad.
When we live Wabi Sabi, we are often placed on the remainders isle of society, tucked away on sale rack, knowingly cracked and useful only for what we were created for (but not the looking oh-so-fab while doing it). And sometimes, not even good for that any more.
Maybe that doesn’t sound so good to you. But most of us have said, over and over again, that what we are really looking for is peace. And the truth is, none of us have found it on the front cover of the glamour magazines. So even if you’re not ready to go fully into it, a little Wabi Sabi goes a long way to tempering what we are not and will never be.
To Cure A World Of Ills
So… Getting older? Wabi Sabi’s got no problem with that. Wabi Sabi says that older things reveal their true nature in time. In many native cultures, a woman is not allowed to speak on topics requiring wisdom until she is at least fifty years old. These cultures get that the Wabi Sabi women have something special, maybe even sacred, to say. Yes, getting older is a good thing.
Looking weathered? Wonderful, you beautiful piece of Wabi Sabi driftwood, you. Gone from your original intended form to a new form through the slow tumbling of the ocean of life. How natural. How normal. How stunning. How Wabi Sabi.
Disheartened because you can’t have and do all “they” say you have to? How fabulous. Do a Wabi Sabi job of it. Then sleep the good sleep that comes after a simple, honest days work that you have let go of. Oh, heck, why wait? Why not take a Wabi Sabi nap right now?
Tired and near penniless from continually “manifesting” bright and shiny new playthings? Perfect time to say enough really is enough. The sun still shines, a free-for-all that is free for all. (By the way, one thing I’ve noticed about Wabi Sabi people. They actually see sunrises and sunsets on a regular basis.)
I know, I know. You hear what I’m saying. But you are still worried about what will happen if you get off the treadmill. But think on this…
There Are Six Billion People In The World
I often say this to my clients when they express great certainty that their particular life problems are evidence that there is something wrong with them. Six billion people and counting, and you think you are going to beat the game of life ahead of them all? You’re going to master money, love, education, self-esteem, sexuality, heath, parents, children, and career, by the time you are—what—29? And once you get there, not only will you be enlightened enough to be fully past any silly fears of losing what you’ve gained, your life will stay in this perfect state of balance?
Yea, that kind of thinking is going to bring happiness in buckets.
It seems ridiculous to have to remind ourselves that life itself is birth and death, up and down, movement from newborn to middle age to older to ancient, and that this is not a design flaw. That we all have a lot to learn, and sometimes we will learn our lessons the hard way. That it is sheer insanity to wait to be happy until we have mastered the ability to balanced all of life on the head of a pin while standing on one hand. Yet we do, indeed, seem to need to remind ourselves. Often.
So Let Me Remind You
There is nothing wrong with you. Even if you have problems. Problems are a fact of the human condition. It will always be so, for the rest of your life, and maybe after that. How you co-exist with your problems is all that you can change. And since Wabi Sabi acknowledges that even how you are co-existing with your problems will inevitably be imperfect, you’re there. You’ve already arrived at the ideal Wabi Sabi state. Now, you can live. Just live.
Reprinted with permission. Robin Rice is an author, spiritual mentor and contemporary shaman. Visit her at www.BeWhoYouAre.com.
2 comments September 24, 2009
