I ran 6 miles yesterday, and I am definitely feeling it. I am getting back to running! Although it is hard to come to terms with my current limits, (did I really used to be able to run 18 miles at a stretch?) just being out and being well enough to pound pavement is such a gift.
Running and I go way back. I was never fast, and I was far from being “athletic” as a kid. I guess I always admired runners, and was fascinated by the sport. Once I finally got to know long slow distance, I kinda fell in love.
Like with weightlifting or the theater, I think once you pass a certain point you’re an addict. I love it, but it comes with a bundle of nerves every time. That feeling lasts at least until I manage to get going, although I sometimes even get butterflies about running while I’m running. It’s a strange feeling; like I am not sure if I can do it, even though I have done it plenty of times before. But the nerves are bundled up with joyful excitement too. There’s this primitive part of my brain that is always ecstatic about running. That’s enough for me to keep returning to it.
Even if the road was tough, you can’t help but feel better after a run. I struggled a bit yesterday to find my pace. Still, around mile 3 I finally figured it out, and I felt pretty great from there. It is nice to be happily recovering on Monday morning.
I feel like I’m ready, more or less, to start another week. I am hoping to be all-round “better” this week; more productive, more active, and more in line with my own ideals. I am trying to do more of what matters to me, and still working on that work-life balance thing. Running seems like a good start for that.
I think aiming to get this post out sometime during the actual weekends might work better. I never manage to squeeze out my ‘Friday 5’ on an actual Friday. Usually by Friday, I find about 2 notes pertaining to this scrawled hastily into the columns of my datebook. The intention is there, but then, of course, life takes over, and I never find the time to elaborate on them by the time Friday is through.
If I make this a regular Saturday/Sunday thing, I’ll be happy to toss in another point, too. (For your enjoyment…and also for alliterative purposes!) Anyway, I’m here NOW, so here’s a snapshot of things currently occupying space in my head…
New job. New job. New job! Yes, I have a new job, and I am both excited and a little intimidated. I am happy to say that I am doing well so far, but the job is…both more formal and less formal than my old job. I’m a little stressed, but the upsides include being allowed to wear basically whatever I want, and working downtown. (Next to records and fancy coffee…I have to be careful!)
Blue lipstick. Fashion’s 90’s resurgence has found me rediscovering my “old self.” It’s interesting. I find myself increasingly into things/styles I used to love more than 15 years ago. Yep, I am still the same person! It’s a little thing, but this weekend I got a dark blue lipstick for myself…and I adore it!
“Whenever you do a thing, act as if all the world were watching” -Thomas Jefferson
Regular stretching. My back is still less-than ideal. I carry a lot of tension there. Lately, it has been hard as a rock, and one of my shoulders was starting to feel locked up. I don’t want to hurt even more, or be unable to do things, so I have been forcing myself to stretch out daily. No excuses! I am still creaky, like an un-oiled tinman, but my shoulder, at least, is starting to feel better.
Sometimes Bluegrass is just so pretty. Daydream of summer with me and check this one out! 🙂 https://youtu.be/jevAJjqXtDQ
Acknowledging, although it is uncomfortable, that I have fallen back into a sugar addiction. It’s not my favourite thing about myself, but I love sweet things. I try to make healthy choices, but I also love chocolate, the occasional ginger cookie, aaaaand my partner is a baker. This means that sometimes, the best of the best is fresh from the oven and right in front of me. I’m not a robot. It can be difficult to deny yourself life’s pleasures!
Lately, I haven’t been doing much denying. My diet has not been my number one concern. Granted, I still keep most of my old habits, like packing a healthy lunch and snacks and stuff, I just find myself indulging in addition to my pre-packed healthy stuff. I’ve already noticed a difference in things like how I feel and how my skin looks, so I’m not going to let that continue!
Rather than beat myself up, I am going to acknowledge my love of sweet things and work with it. Some indulgences are ok, but some I know I can do without. The real reward is feeling better, after all. Instant gratification is for newbs.
Hmm…maybe we need to light a few more candles for spring’s return..don’t think the message is getting through!
Ah, back to my old irregular posting schedule! 😉 The past two weeks have been tough, given the snowfall amounts that have slammed us and the soggy, ongoing cleanup afterward. I’m sure a lot of people who might read this have spent a little time hurting from all the shoveling. (We don’t have a snowblower, so please know that I was out there on the front-lines with you!) Some reflections from the past couple of weeks:
Physical labour can be intense meditation. I was reminded of what has always attracted me to jobs with some element of physical challenge; I value the spiritual and mental effects of real, hard work. It genuinely helps me feel better, clearer and more “myself” when I have had to come through some kind of physical challenge.
Being really physically tired is awesome for my insomnia. This is obvious, but…it’s also kind of…not? I didn’t think that I was all that lacking in exercise. In fact, I usually get some physical exercise every day. However, even if I lift weights in the morning, walk at lunch, and stay pretty much on my feet around the house in the evening, it’s not usually enough to make me just fall into bed early and sleep like a baby. Chipping away at an ice wall for an hour or more every day? I briefly relearned what it was like to fall asleep easily. I started getting tired more early, and it helped my schedule. I want to hang on to a little of this change. I think I have kind of…gotten better at mornings because of it.
“We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit.” -Aristotle I like this. I can say I’m any number of things, but the proof is in the pudding! We are what we actually devote all of our time to doing.
I’m almost ready to get my tree-of-life tattoo! I had my last consult yesterday. This means that I will be doing my first sitting on March 7th! Finally! I am very excited, and I fully intend to post progress pics!
Just a collection of 5 cool things I’m mulling around in my head right now, or currently having an impact on my life…
A Re-dedication. Let me start by saying that the return of the “Fabulous Friday Five” was inspired by my spiritual return to my coven-group generally, and by one member in particular. Hey, I’m happy if anyone cares or is reading this at all, and I am glad beyond measure to feel like I can be of service. I’m back.
Book Progress. Book progress. Book progress! It seems that my spiritual life and my writing life are deeply intertwined, and that both have to be up and running properly for either of them to function at all. I don’t know. All I know is…I can write again, and I’m hopeful about it, and that’s good.
A re-examination of gender. I suppose that I never really “got” the importance of drag to some boys. I like to think that I am up on gender and gender issues, but I RuPaul’s Drag Race has taught me even more. A couple of people at work got me into watching it, and I am hooked! It’s a lot more than fantastic wigs, fabulous outfits and impeccable runway walking though. Some of the contestants are strictly performers. But for some, this has been a defining part of who they are for most of their lives. The show highlights the very constructed nature of gender roles, and how much of one’s appearance is determined by the wearer. Seemingly ordinary-looking men can morph into the most stunning women. (Quite often with enviable legs!) Heck, it even forces me to reconcile the fact that there’s a huge difference between me with no makeup on, and any old outfit, and me when I’ve taken 2 hours to get ready. It’s a performance. It’s all a performance. As RuPaul says, “You’re born naked. Everything else is drag.”
Re-discovering silence. I like to have noise around me almost all the time. There is usually something playing in the background. I have been guilty of using it to soothe me and keep me company. But, noise is not where creativity comes from, and as much as it pains me to admit it, I do sometimes have to force myself to turn the music off and let my mind wander. I making more of an effort to reclaim silence when I can. The results have been reminding me of why it’s so valuable to the creative process.
Learning to be a better listener. I’m lucky. I may not have a perfect life, but it’s pretty darn great, and emotionally, I think that I’m doing ok. I have no need to sit around and wallow in my “problems.” They’re not that bad. That’s good, because that frees me up my mental real estate to take in what others are saying, and to consciously avoid making the conversation all about me. It’s all about knowing when to shut up. I am not the best at doing this, but I HAVE noticed that I’ve been a sounding board for a couple of people lately, and that’s awesome, because I really felt that in those cases the person felt better afterward. I don’t mind if people vent to me, especially if it makes them feel better. I just have to be sure to not hang on to the energy afterward!
Bonus quote, since I really did mean to have this out yesterday:
“I have no special talents. I am only passionately curious”
I don’t always have the chance to go, but there is a wooded area behind where I work, and on my lunch breaks I sometimes venture up there. When I do, I find myself blissfully alone in what I consider to be a mind-blowingly beautiful place.
Makes it hard not to feel a twinge of hope, y’know?
My pictures don’t do it justice. I hardly think they could. Not until they can capture a perfect panoramic shot, along with the brightness of colours alive in the moist air, and combine it all of it with the actual feeling of being there. I only hope there is some shadow of how it seems to me reflected in the pictures I snap with my phone.
Gotta love that clean air. (The crowd’s not too judgmental, either!)
Apart from when I indulge in dramatic makeup and costumes, most of the pictures I take of myself are “forest selfies.” Me, against a backdrop of trees left to grow of their own accord. Embarrassing, perhaps, but it makes sense. I am trying to capture the state in which I feel I am being my most authentic self.
In the wilderness, things like choice of clothing are of little consequence. Somber or bright, as long as I am warm, comfortable, and not hitching my hem on the trees, I’m fine. (Still, because I walk directly up from work, I admit that I do sometimes wear wilderness-questionable outfits out on the trail anyway!)
Like any immediate concerns about appearance, most modern distractions become so much nothing in the forest. My social media presence and number of Twitter followers are infinitely less interesting than this one particular tree I was fascinated by. It stood “alone” in a crowd; surrounded by trees of different species. Yet it was the one dripping in sunlight. I wondered if anyone else had ever even seen it look like that before.
Don’t be afraid to be different…It was so much more shiny in reality. I love the pluck of this sun-struck tree!
I miss the outside when I don’t go. I work indoors now, and when the days are busy and long, or cold and miserable, I don’t go to the woods at all. It bothers me not to have this tiny escape. The urge to follow the path to the trees some days is quite insistent.
When I worked as a mail carrier, Mother Nature didn’t have to push me quite so hard. Outdoors was a given. I couldn’t help but observe natural cycles in action. I brushed past buds and first crocuses. I was met by fall bugs seeking warmth in the crevices of dark mailboxes. I even, in the right place at the very right moment, caught a glimpse of late-summer Blue Flag Iris growing wild. In short,I saw the change of the seasons as easily as I read the words on the envelopes and fliers between my fingertips.
One of my more recent shots. The forest is changing again!
I have to force myself to pay a little more attention now. Like so many others, I don’t have to go outside. It’s just something I endeavour to do. I am fallible. I am easily distracted.
Still, even at my most distracted, I think Autumn has always been my favourite. The trees themselves may be bare or nearly so, but the wooded landscape is far from lifeless. I love the moss, and the brilliant shades it boasts, even late into the season.. I love the cacophony of the leaves that litter the ground. I also cannot help but love the proliferation of strange mushrooms in their multitude of unexpected shapes and arrangements. You might find the strangest specimen standing alone, or a circle of frilly brothers and sisters keeping unexpected vigil. I love those perfect days where the temperature is just crisp enough to tell you to keep moving, and to whisper of impending winter.
This is pretty amazing to me. Fungus is neato!
I have a history of wandering. Trails through the forest, going precisely nowhere, suit me perfectly. I love the mystery that lurks there, and the fact that we as humans don’t fully understand everything about how it works.
Life is complicated. 2016 has been so hard on so many people. This fact only heightens for me the spiritual importance of creating a built-in time-out. Ordinary breathing space on ordinary days. I’m not saying a walk in the forest will cure your sadness. I’m just saying there’s a lot that clean air, mossy undergrowth and being awed by the wilderness can fix.
Yours in continued observations and aimless wanderings,
Earlier today I was writing some intense, navel-gazing foolishness about me, and all my complex inner workings, and how I had been feeling sad recently. (A lot of the reason why I haven’t been writing here much.)
A whole bunch of journal-appropriate venting about how I might seem one way, and be feeling another.
The drama.
That kind of writing never really works for me. Every time I try to explain about my own mental health, I just sort of graze over it. Fluff it up. Work around it. Never depressed. Maybe just “blue.” “Anxious,” not, “suffering from relentless anxiety.” Obviously, there are reasons for that, (who likes to admit to what is often perceived as weakness?) but I think that I’m ready to skip all of that crap for today.
Hence I’m scrapping most of what I wrote. Even some of the pretty words. No need to dance around how I feel or who I am. There’s also need for me to make myself out to be some kind of victim, or to feel sorry for myself because I am this extra-sensitive, squishy person on the inside. No need to play myself a tiny sonata on a teensy-tiny violin.
I’m not actually “crazy.” I may like to dance and sing and dye my hair green, and I may spontaneously decide that I ABSOLUTELY MUST LEARN HOW TO YODEL, but I’m not now, nor have I ever been “crazy” in the negative sense of that loaded word. I am firmly in this reality. I am not dangerous. I am non-violent. I am intelligent and loving and do not intend to do harm to myself or to anyone else.
But yeah, in case I haven’t made it clear, I know a little about anxiety and depression.
The world we live in, how our lives our designed, and the pace of life mean there are so many others like me; regular people who happen to be no stranger to inner darkness and self-doubt, or seem to have an over-active panic-button. If you don’t deal with those things, well, congratulations, because I hardly think they make me special. (Watch an all-news station for a while and try to keep yourself in a good mood! Attempt to attain a laundry list of societal check-boxes deemed necessary to make one ‘successful’ and stay relaxed!)
But it’s FRIDAY, and I really do feel fine, after all. I don’t really want to wallow, or sing a song about the darkness.
(Although I’d be happy to listen to something BY The Darkness…)
If you’re like me, I don’t think you should either. Plan to do something this weekend that gets your blood flowing and makes you happy. Don’t get lost in your own head. Find a reason to be grateful. Hug your cat. Phone a friend. Get distracted!
Every morning when I get up, I turn on the radio. My car is full of CD’s. I will sing at the drop of a hat, and usually for much less than that. I prefer to shower only when the mini Bose speaker we have is hooked up to my phone via Bluetooth, and it’s playing one of my awesome YouTube playlists. Did I mention my YouTube playlists??? I have one for everything, of course! Workouts, summers on the deck, late at night, parties, and several for Hallowe’en. 😉
Then there are the records Jason and I listen to, and the occasional concerts and live shows we love to get out for (how we actually met). I also couldn’t forget all of those hours logged listening to my favourite jams as I run across the city, or lift weights, or, well, basically do anything. (I even had a birthing playlist, for when I was in hospital with my daughter. At one point, I scrapped it entirely in favour of Rob Zombie, but that’s a whole other story!)
The obvious truth is, I simply can’t imagine my life without music. It’s part of almost everything I do, and it still holds the power to make me excited every day.
So, I’m passing on a few audio goodies. Just 5 songs I love. I am aiming to be quite varied here, so if you hate one of these, chances are there might still be a surprise here you will appreciate!
“While My Guitar Gently Weeps” A well-known classic, but this version is extra-special. This one is the performance at the 2004 Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductions. EVERY artist here is a heavy-hitter, but if you HAVEN’T seen this cut (yes, I know it’s been going around), you simply must watch it and wait. You will probably think it is quite good. And THEN PRINCE will show up, and he will MELT YOUR FACE OFF. I’m not kidding. His guitar solo at the end is enough to leave the finest guitarists gaping in his wake. Get ready to chant “we’re not worthy!!!”
“Frenzy” It’s awesome to go way back musically sometimes. This song is from 1957, and it is…well, Screamin’ Jay Hawkins doesn’t really have any equal, so it’s hard to describe. I have never heard another voice like this. It might just put a smile on your face! 🙂
“Mr. Midnight” We play The Devil Makes Three a LOT around the house, but I realize they aren’t that well-known. This is not the type of music high school me would have approved of, as it is bluegrass, but I absolutely LOVE IT now. I can thank Jason for this one. It’s fun, the musicians are talented, and it might just win you over to the twangy side too. Check it out!
http://https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6QIw1BQIvT4“She’s a Bad Mama Jama” I had no idea that I wanted to be a “bad mama jama” before I heard this totally sweet old-school disco track. It turns out that I do! I do want be a “bad mama jama,” Carl Carlton. I do! Shake it!
http://https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ghREhZz2dPU“Are You Satisfied”I like boppy dance music, but I dislike a lot of pop music. I’m not a fan of sub-par singers who are relying on auto-tune to give them vocal power. Let’s face it, a lot of modern pop certainly feels that way! It was actually my daughter who turned me on to Marina and the Diamonds. I haven’t loved a singer this instantly since Florence + the Machine came along! She is TOTALLY a pop singer, but this gal has a gloriously dramatic voice. She is capable of really nice live high notes many singers wouldn’t touch, and some truly resounding lows that a lot of female vocalists simply do not have. It’s pop music, but it’s GOOD pop music. Try it. Ya might just bop around the house!
I hope all of the sounds that greet your ears this weekend are a blessing to your soul! Have a great one!
Months and months ago, I auditioned for a local movie. They were looking for “punk” characters, and they were also looking for people in my age group. It seems rare when projects are looking for either, so I got excited.
I signed up, got the sides (excerpts from the script), and got into it. I printed them out and marked them up. I repeated them aloud and mentally. I memorized them. I spoke them more than once to my cat. Got to know them backwards and forwards. Knew the exact intonations I wanted to use in certain places. At home, I had this down.
Then, I got to the audition, and as SOON as I was there, I was whisked into this room that was dark, except for one bright light and the camera in my face, and it was “action” right away, with no chance to breath.
It did.
Not.
Go.
Well.
I managed to get through the first part of it, and then I just…kinda froze? Not my finest hour, and definitely not what I would consider typical!
Anyway, I asked to start the scene over again (because OMG), and the lady said to me, and I shit you not, “No, that’s ok, we’ve seen enough.”
Ouch. Mortifying to say the least. Probably my worst audition ever. Especially for something that had seemed so easy peasy in my bedroom
Some time later, I spoke to my producer/director/actor friend Alix about it. I was still embarrassed, but she laughed it off, and said that everyone needs to take their “actor vitamins” once in a while.
Well, guess I was due again today. Holy Flip though. Do these vitamins ever suck. Only, I guess I can’t really call them “actor vitamins” since this time they’re not acting, but writing-related. Maybe just “artist vitamins”?
That kind of works. There could be a whole slew of “artist vitamins”! In my mind, those vitamins would include things like outright rejections, rejections that suck more because they take endless weeks, and of course the undying expectation that you can and will work for free, because you love your art, and you need ALL OF THE EXPOSURE.
Ugh. It’s hard to be bouncy. Rejection sucks.
A part of me feels like I am not even supposed to write that, or say that. Like it’s sacrilegious. Like I just get to carry on, pretending that nothing weird happened today, and that I am tough, and remind myself quietly that even if I DIDN’T get the job I wanted, the Universe has bigger plans for me, and everything else.
Blah blah blah whatever. I know all of those stories. But I didn’t get a job that I wanted today. Boo. At the end of the day, I understand that, and it’s ok, but guess what? It still blows, and it’s a bitter pill to swallow, and I don’t have to like it. Damn it.
So give me my time to sulk, and to be a jerk, and to let the vitamins work their magic.
Ha. As silly as it sounds, thinking of rejection in this way is helpful. Just knowing that these “artist-vitamins” are so very, very common makes it all a little better to think about. It worked on my brain after that God-awful audition, and it’ll help me now. A reminder of the universality of suck. Really, who HASN’T blown an audition? Mucked up a job interview? Who HASN’T been turned down for some cool thing? I bet even great actors, great writers, and great producers, people involved in the very best projects, have “artist-vitamin” stories that could make us all shudder and anxiety-vomit. Those people are still A-ok.
I’m still ok today too. I just get to take some more vitamins. Hell, given my love of supplements and choking down weird concoctions, this should be easy. Pop in those rejection-filled “artist-vitamins” between the probiotic protein smoothie and the vitamin B.
😦
-Jenn
Crappy day. Snapped this though.
P.S. I swear I’m alright. I have other projects to work on. ❤
Honestly, today I’ll be happy just to think of something to write about. Nothing is forthcoming, and that is so odd for me. Usually, I have something at the tip of my tongue (fingertips?). Something to say. Something to rant about. Some great cause. Well, not today. Not really sure what’s up with today. Am I sad? Nostalgic? What is this mood anyway? Is it the blues? I don’t think so, although the damp gray sky outside could certainly convince me otherwise.
Ah, there. Just turned on the light above my desk. Hopefully its warm glow will help me out. Help illuminate a path for my writing. I can’t actually write nothing today, and I can’t stay in this funky mood, right? I mean, here I am with a snack and talking to you all, and… oh, just flaming great. I’ve no coffee. Hmm. Maybe that’s my problem.
I’ve returned! With coffee! (I also stopped to pet the cat for a bit, and to irritate Jason.) Back to business. Yup, any minute now. I will soon startle you with some grand insight and brilliance into some…great topic.
“Creativity to me is just like…it’s like a bird, like a friendly bird that embraces all…ideas, and just like shoots…out of its eyes all kinds of beauty.”
Ha. Or maybe not. Here I sit without a lesson, or advice, or anything to grab your attention at all. I pause, breathing in and out and watching my cursor. It looks as if it’s breathing back at me. Waiting. Have you got any ideas old friend? No? Didn’t think so. Heh. Post number two and the well has already run dry! How can I possibly hope to make it? Looks like I shouldn’t be writing at all. I’m just wasting all of this time.
Now everyone will know I’m secretly just a hack!
Why am I doing this to myself?
Why am I doing this to you?
Writers are a curious breed. We dance with a partner who may or may not show up. How frustrating to be all dressed up and ready to go, only to be left hanging. The muse is fickle, and if you write, or create in some other way, you know this well.
I wish that all of my writing would emerge in a great torrent of inspiration. I wish the words would consistently fall into place effortlessly, and transform themselves into the pretty sentences, rife with meaning that I dream of writing.
Sometimes, every once in a while, it feels like they do. Those times are beautiful. They are of the ‘time-stands-still’ variety, and they are a part of what makes writing wonderful. When it goes well, the experience is joyful and liberating. The brain is engaged and firing on all cylinders. The heart seems to beat a little faster. The flow state is possible, and everything hums along for a little while. (Yay!)
Then there are the other times. Times with no humming. Times of false starts. Times with five or six chucked opening paragraphs. Times of aimlessly checking the internet in idle frustration. Or, I might simply find that I consistently hate the tone of everything I produce. There are moments when I read back what I’ve written and find it to be too whiny. Too aggressive. Too superficial. Too deep in the weeds. Too personal. Too ethereal. Too abrupt. Too verbose. Too something. Too anything. Those are the times when creativity is challenging, and I feel entirely grateful I’m not stuck whiting things out like in the old days. I know well those trying moments when I must battle for my words, and when they only show up incrementally; one at a molasses-slow time.
So how do you do it? How do you gracefully dance with so unpredictable a partner? The easiest answer is, you just keep doing it.
Sounds simplistic, but it’s the truth. All that you can ever do is invite the muse and show up. You cannot force or cajole her. You just do your job!
Your ‘job’ as a writer or artist, even if you are not currently being PAID to be a writer or artist, is to create. If you are an artist on your own time, and doing it out of love, your time is limited. You must create when the opportunity presents itself, or not at all. You must keep writing even if you don’t like what you’re writing. You must allow yourself bad days at your self-imposed “job,” just as you would expect of anyone else in another job. Don’t think there’s any shame in struggling through a messy hour of disjointed writing. Your job is to show up, ready to dance, with outside distractions kept to a minimum.
She still may not come. It’s worse if you become resentful or full of expectation. Don’t take it out on yourself if you fail to meet your ideals as a writer. (Don’t go into a downward spiral, like I did, up above!) Don’t waste time beating yourself up, especially when the internet is full of trolls aching to do that for you. If no one has told you this today, YOU are AWESOME, and you need to know that, because believing in any other nonsense is going to make the “job” we just talked about that much harder. An instance of “bad” writing does not a bad writer make. It’s ok! It’s very important to generate words, even if they’re terrible, because it always seems like if you keep hacking at it, you will eventually find some less terrible words underneath. (Plus, it’s better to force yourself to write for 15 minutes straight, and then have to edit the ever-loving crap out of it, than to have never written at all!)
If you’re still stuck, you may need a break. A real one. A creative one. Not a TV-watching or internet-surfing one. A brief 20 minutes at a skill or hobby, (e.g. origami, chasing the dog around the backyard) can help your brain get into a better state for creative flow.
Or, you could always do something that often works for me. Take a shower! Not just recommended for hygiene purposes, I find that almost every time I get under the water and my mind gets idle, I start writing things in my head. It just happens, and a LOT of those shower-inspiration moments have become blog posts, or letters to the editor, or even just the right wording for an email I needed to send. (Bonus: you usually smell better afterward, and everyone loves that.)
So you get a wash, you bother to show up, you promise to write no matter what (might wanna turn off that wi-fi!) and you’re truthfully STILL getting nowhere? You need to start thinking of things you care very deeply about. Make a list. Get an old-school pencil and paper if it helps. Why? Because passion makes for damn good writing, that’s why!
Need help? Well, the way I see it, you can go a couple of different directions. Try this: What was the last thing that made you really angry? When was it? Who were you with? Where were you? Really get back there, and get pissed off all over again, but this time on paper. Find the wrong in that situation, and write to fix it.
Not interested in starting your own revolution? Well, go to the other end of the spectrum. When was the last time you felt truly blessed? You know, actually filled with wonder and gratitude. Maybe it was an experience that left you happy to be alive. Maybe just something that made you smile for the rest of the day. Maybe you fell in love over the weekend! Whatever it was, go for something that practically fills your eyes with tears of gratitude. Look at moments when your heart is full, and write to extract meaning.
Not that this is easy. These big things that touch your soul are usually both the hardest and most revealing to write about. Naturally, they are also the most rewarding. Talented impassioned writers, angered over injustices can generate pieces that make you want to stand and take action. Writers who celebrate life, and all of its winning moments can uplift their audience, and build a personal connection that takes the reader along for the ride.
Nearly all writing can be seriously upgraded through merciless editing. This is extremely good news if it didn’t go well the first time around! Thankfully, YOU are smart enough to know what reads well and what doesn’t. Trust yourself. Even if what you first write is hideous, you CAN fix it. (Tip: read things aloud to find the ugly bits quickly!)
Most of the time, once you’ve generated a piece and gone back to edit it a few times (the 4th edit is my secret weapon), you really won’t be able to see a difference between the words written in a fit of inspiration and those that took way more effort. 🙂
So no more excuses! If the muse doesn’t deign to dance with you today, you’d better just get used to doing the funky chicken alone!
Critical Happiness 