Dec. 08, 2002
Slowly I was starting to form answers to questions I didn’t even know I had asked. Sometimes these answers made sense and sometimes I was left confused, unsure what to do with them.
The only thing I knew for certain was that I was standing at the same jumping off point that I was on April 08th 2001. The point where I knew I had to move forward but I was completely scared to move even one foot.
In April 2001, I got a gentle but firm push from a tarot reader. Did I really need her at that point? Did Dorothy really have to follow the yellow brick road? Of course not, I already had the answer, I was just afraid to act on what I knew. I was afraid to be responsible for a decision that might turn out to be wrong. So I put it in the hands of the Tarot Reader.
In my indecision over the past couple of months, I decided to once again give this woman I didn’t know, my power. I knew where I was, I knew how I felt and I knew that I had to go somewhere. I just didn’t want to be responsible for it. That’s when I called her.
I thought if I spoke with her I’d have the same experience the first time. She’d give me direction, she’d tell me what I needed to hear. She’d make my life work because I just couldn’t.
When I drove up to her place I didn’t want to knock on the door and was relieved to find out she wasn’t there. Driving away I didn’t feel sad to have missed her – I was elated.
It took me until midnight to figure out why.
I didn’t need some woman, no matter how great her insight, to tell me how to move forward. I’ve proven over and over that no matter what, I know how to do that. Despite fear, despite failure, despite rejection, I have always moved forward and quite loudly.
I know what I need to do and it’s simple:
I just need TO DO. No more waiting, no more wondering, no more what ifs or should have’s or want tos. It’s all about the doing.
If I want to paint I will. If I want to sing on stage I will. If I want to write a book I will. If I don’t want to be just a writer I won’t be. I don’t need cards to tell me I’m different, my toes wiggling tell me that.
This time around I gave myself my own push. I’m ready to jump and I don’t need a net.
Dec. 03, 2002
It’s that time of year again when the advent calendars are being opened, the Christmas lights turn on and you can play Charlie Brown’s Christmas CD once again.
I’m a huge holiday girl for many reasons but most of all because it’s such a creative and simple time of year. Growing up with Danish Traditions, our home was decorated, crafts were made, cards were written, Sunday candles lit and cookies were baked.
Christmas has been the one time of year when I create without worry because those who I create for – friends and family – seem to appreciate it regardless of how well it turns out. This has always given me freedom and I never realised how much I needed that until my break these past couple months.
Removing pressure from any situation always makes it better but sometimes, it’s a very hard thing to do. When I began to make my cards this year I was at first filled with frustration – it didn’t look like what I had in mind. But then I remembered that when I was six it didn’t matter. What mattered were the moments that it took to make them. Remembering that, I dove in and played with sparkles, glue and coloured pencils. It didn’t matter that it didn’t turn out like the picture, what mattered was that I did it and enjoyed every minute.
Dec. 01, 2002
Chris has been taking guitar lessons for the past year and a half as music is something he is quite passionate about. Music is to him what writing is to me and in many ways, we’ve been going on the same journey.
He announced to his teacher yesterday that he felt that for the moment, he had to stop going to his lessons. Not because he had come to hate the guitar, but because he wanted to keep being in love with it. He told her that the weekly pressure to perform and learn things and play by the rules had sucked out his creativity and his passion. He was no longer playing to hear the music, but to learn a tune to impress her. He also told her that he felt he had gone as far as he could with the lessons and wanted to take a break and in the future, try something new. He told her he had felt this way for awhile but was afraid to admit it at first, because he thought if he stopped he would stop the guitar altogether. But he realised that the music is in him and just because he stops for a little while, doesn’t mean he’ll stop forever. He’s a musician no matter what; just right now he had become an unhappy one.
I totally understood where he was coming from as I had come to the same conclusion with my writing.
Taking a winter break has been what I’ve needed as I too had travelled to the point where my journey wasn’t a journey – it was a state. I had felt the pressure to write and create and be a writer because I thought I had made such a huge deal that it was too late to turn back.
Even though I felt I had outgrown what I was doing and that it wasn’t working for me, I felt afraid to leave it. That fear was the same fear that kept me being in the corporate world for so long. I was afraid to give up the security I had finally achieved despite the fact it didn’t work for me.
When I finally declared that it wasn’t working, I immediately felt better. I relaxed, I smiled, I played. I found other interests to enjoy, I spent real time with friends, I spent real time alone. I didn’t write for two months and instead of feeling guilty, I felt good.
There came a night when I finally felt the urge to write and when I did, I was surprised at how effortlessly it came out. I enjoyed letting my fingers click along the keyboard and it felt like playing again. I didn’t write about writing, I didn’t write about my dream and I didn’t write about travel. Instead, I began to write little stories of my past. I indulged myself with writing frivolously without concern of who would read it, who would buy it and who would say what about it.
When I started to write these stories, I noticed something – they were simple. Before my break I had become caught up in my thesaurus, in language and in grammar. I tried to apply all the new rules I had learned so instead of writing, I edited and my work felt contrived. I have an article published that I am currently too embarrassed about because it reads more like a flashy advert than an article I wrote. I forgot how much I enjoyed my simple voice because I had become caught up in trying to be more.
I took one of these simple stories and submitted it to a place that doesn’t pay. I didn’t want money for it; I just wanted to see if it was something people would respond to. Actually, what I really wanted was to see if people would still respond to me.
Turns out, they do.
The article was published and when others read it I received a lot of feedback of how it touched them. It made people recall their own experiences, made them think of other things but most importantly, it connected us. Something I hadn’t felt from my writing in a long time.
For the past couple of months, I’ve slowly been learning about my intentions as a writer. It’s not an overnight process and at times, it’s not even an easy one. Looking inward and asking myself why I am doing something can be frustrating when I don’t have the answers. I’m learning I don’t always have to have the answers if I enjoy it. It’s when I don’t enjoy something that asking the questions become crucial.
Nov. 10, 2002
There’s a problem in America; you’re supposed to have a career in which you specialise in something and if you don’t, you’re seen as confused.
I, however, don’t want to be just a writer because there are so many other things I want to do. This isn’t a new declaration, in fact, it was just last fall that I started talking about my passion for art. Somewhere, though, my other passions were pushed aside as I focused solely on my writing.
At first, it was what I needed to do. The insecurity I felt of changing from corporate girl to writer girl was so overwhelming that I needed an easy title to grasp hold of. I needed something easy to say when people challenged my job. It was easy to say I was a writer and even easier to defend it – it just made sense.
But my longing to do other things increased and I found that I started to call myself a “creative person.” However, this brought on more challenges from outsiders. They wanted to know what kind of creative person I was, what exactly did I do, and how much money did it make. Answering all those questions became tiresome so I resorted back to just saying, “I’m just a Writer.”
Although saying that made me feel as though I wasn’t being true to myself, in time I got over it and forgot that I was anything but a writer. Even though from time to time I would feel like there was more I wanted to do, I’d ignore it.
Ironically, the way I was feeling was when I was in my office job and I tried to ignore the feeling that I wanted to write. The feeling never went away, it just intensified until it overwhelmed me.
I didn’t want to be overwhelmed by my other creative longings so this fall when I began my break from writing, I began to indulge my other passions such as drawing, painting, sewing, singing, acting, dancing and writing stories I don’t normally write.
After awhile of doing this I understand why it felt so uncomfortable to call myself just a writer; I’m not just a writer and I do not specialise in one area of creativity. I dabble in lots of areas because if I don’t, I feel like something’s missing, because really, something is.
People want titles that are easy and understandable – it’s how in America we define ourselves. But what happens when we can’t be so easily defined? Are we to ignore parts of ourselves so that others can understand us better? I don’t think so. I’m tired of pretending to be something just so I look good. The fact is, I’m not just a writer, I’m a lot of things.
I’ve never been one for titles and even though “Writer” is less uncomfortable that “Corporate Executive” it’s still uncomfortable. So now when people ask me what I do I simply say, “I write and create a myriad of things. And I play.”
Oct. 25, 2002
When I talk of my break from writing, the first thing people ask is, “for how long?” Right now, I don’t have an answer and I’m OK with that.
I’m at the same point now as I was just before I quit my corporate job when I knew I had come to the end of something and needed to start on an entirely new path. Just like back then, I don’t know what I’m moving towards, I just know it’s different.
There’s opportunity out there for me, I just have to figure out what I want and I’ll get it. I don’t say that to be cocky but I’ve learned that by naming a desire and working for it, you achieve it. For me the hard part is naming it.
I want more than just to write, that’s all I know for sure. I know that right now I need to focus less on writing, less on sharing and more time just being with myself and discovering who I am and where I’m going.
Rather than walking blindly, I’ve decided to wait and listen for signs of when (and how) to move. That seems ridiculously since I constantly tell people that action is the only thing that gets things moving but since I’m not sure what action to take, I’ll simply wait until I do.
In the meantime, I take each day as it comes. I’m not sleeping through it or waiting for a light to hit me and tell me what to do. But I’m just taking a break from trying so hard, especially on the roads I’ve already taken.
This journey has been amazing so far, but I know there’s another one out there, ready. I’ll put my foot down as soon as I know. I have a feeling it’s not too far away.
Oct. 10, 2002
Taking a much needed hiatus from updating. The pressure to talk about writing all the time has taken it’s toll and left me struggling to write about other topics. I’ve spent the beginning October releasing things that overwhelm me, and this is the last.
“A starving person has nothing to offer a starving world.”
The updates will begin once again in January 2003. Until then you can check out the news section for any of my projects that come to light or the book page if I get a chance to buy some books.
My efforts will be put mostly into completing my travel portfolio, articles for print and figuring out how to really use watercolours. And if I’m lucky, watching a leaf or two fall in this most gorgeous autumn.