I’ve fallen off the wagon, stopped writing every day. And certainly stopped making sure my posts had meaning. Now I feel as though I’m doing this to see if I can, not because I want to. Maybe that’s enough?
In these writing classes I take, you’re asked to do all of these exercises like writing up fake scenes for stories handed down. I have zero interest writing about someone else’s stories, even as a learning experience. I actually hate it. Actual hate. And I don’t hate much in this world.
This blog is like a journal, that’s why it works. And MY stories that I write about are based on my life experiences… I just need to fictionalize a bit more and they might actually be interesting to a broader audience.
We had a decent therapy session. No drama, no crying, just a lot of ‘how can I give you more of what you need?’ And then a great dinner with a couple of glasses of wine. But he felt a million miles away. Yes, he was hungry. And maybe tired. And maybe he’s not thinking about anything other than those two feelings. Because he’s a guy. But isn’t that a copout? Isn’t that like saying I must only think about babies and rainbows? To be fair, I love babies and a good rainbow is something to behold, but still. Aren’t we better than this? Isn’t the goal to evolve, instead of grow further apart? Maybe that is what’s happening and right now I’m only feeling the processing part. I’m also pre-menstrual (thanks mother nature!) so that doesn’t help. Sleep will help. Sleep and water. Oh and hearing from my kiddo that he’s safe and sound. Those things are feel good certains.
Last week, I saw Elizabeth Gilbert speak about her new book, Big Magic. At one point, someone from the audience asked a question I’ve been asking myself for years. What if you just aren’t the type of person who is going to be obsessive and committed and dedicated to one thing, your whole life? Does that make you any less of an artist, writer, poet, painter, baker, banker, etc.? What if you’re good at a few things but not great at any one? Should I give up now and save myself the trouble?
One of the things the Live Your Legend group requires via self-exploration is to find the thing at which you are an expert, and be an expert at the thing you are passionate about. When Elizabeth received the question, she gave a great analogy. She explained that she is a jackhammer. For as long as she could remember, she wanted to be a writer. She announced it at a young age, and pursued it relentlessly, obsessively, admitting that this often made her unaware of many people, feelings, and things around her. She became the great writer she wanted to be. But then there are the hummingbirds. Those who bring nectar and curiosity from one blossom to the next, who find things beautiful that she might have missed. The cross-pollinators, who are inspiring in their own right, trying new things along the way. It was a kind way to answer the young woman’s question. The truth, of course, is that if this woman wanted to BE any one of those things, she probably would have pursued it by now. Or maybe she’s just flitting, floating and years from now she’ll discover she really loves knitting and open an online shop selling her wares. Or not. The percentage of people who fully commit to their craft, their business, their talent, is small – relative to the population of the human race. It doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try, that’s not what I’m saying. Most of us are working hard, maybe even loving what we do, but we’re not all capable of being geniuses, of being the next Elon Musk or a Pulitzer Prize winner. I know – I sound like Debbie Downer but I think a healthy dose of realism wouldn’t hurt. It doesn’t have to be a depressing fact. It might actually be liberating to stop putting so much pressure on ourselves that because we live in America, we must innovate/create or die – each and every one of us. Maybe its alright to just enjoy a bottle of wine and a good meal with the people you love, talk about what’s going on in the world, plan a trip here and there, learn something new, and age healthfully. Maybe the only thing I will ever be an expert at is loving my son and my husband, or how to find the best desserts while traveling. And that doesn’t feel like defeat, it feels like acceptance. Maybe even relief.