I Have To....

I have to write.  Right now.  Because if I don’t write now, if I have a bowl of popcorn first and read some comic books, I’m going to feel even less like writing than I do now.  That’s right, I don’t feel like writing now.  But here’s the thing – I have to write.  This is my commitment and that surpasses, it trumps feelings and preferences.  I just need to write because, who knows, this could be my 10,000^th hour and if I miss or delay that, then I’m missing or delaying my success.  So even though all I’m doing is a stream-of-consciousness thing, I’m putting in my time.  Sometimes that’s what work is:  we put in our time.  Some days are extremely busy and the work is hard.  Other times, you go to work and there’s really not much to do.  But you still have to be there.  You still have to be physically present.  I remember going to a meeting once in which we were all supposed to learn a new computer program.  Unfortunately the program didn’t work.  I was the first to discover this and I told my supervisor, who informed me that I was doing it wrong.  I wasn’t.  The program didn’t work and there was nothing anyone could do to fix it.  I asked my supervisor if I could be excused to work on other things.  I was told no.  We were required to stay at the meeting even though there was nothing to do.  So we sat there for the next 25 minutes while the supervisor made some unnecessary announcements until the time was up.  The point was we had to be present.

            That’s what purpose is like sometimes.  I have to be present.  Specifically what that means is that I have to write, even if what I’m writing seems to be pointless or a waste of time.  I still have to show up. Publishing isn’t as important, though that’s usually the goal.  But the main thing is the writing.  There’s no shortcut to this either.  Thinking about writing doesn’t count, even if I write the greatest work ever (in my head).  If it doesn’t appear on a piece of paper or a computer screen, then it doesn’t count.  Talking about writing doesn’t count either.   Even if I inspire someone or someone inspires me, if it doesn’t appear on a piece of paper or a computer screen, it doesn’t count.  The only thing that counts is sitting in my chair and writing.

            And that’s what I’ve done.  I’m tired and hungry, but I did it.  I had to.  My Muse was counting on me.  I have some goals and I won’t reach them magically.  If I want magic to happen, I have to make something appear out of nothing.  That’s why I fill the blank page or the computer screen.  I’m trying to make magic happen.  Tonight I did it.  Tomorrow I have to do it again.  I have to Get Started and Keep Going.  I have to.

The Right Tools

I’m glad to be working with the right tools.  This week my computer reformatted and I lost MS Word.  I went to the computer store and the customer representative recommended a writing program for me.  He said, “It blows MS Word out of the water!”

            It didn’t.

            The program was clumsy and didn’t allow me to do the things I was used to doing.  So after a lot of time on the phone I found what I needed and I’m feeling enthusiastic about my writing again.

            Would I have continued writing if I hadn’t been able to get MS Word?  Yes and no.  Yes, I would have continued writing because that’s what I like to and need to do.  And, no, I wouldn’t have continued writing with that program.  It was too frustrating, distracting, and discouraging.  I would have done what I did – find the right program.  As I said, the tools are important.

Pens and journals are also important to me.  I’ve been carrying pens in my pocket since I was 12 years old.  When I was a kid (and an adult), many of those pens ended up in the washing machine and ruining my clothes.  Still, I found myself almost always having a pen with me.  I felt naked without one.  Over the years I found myself favoring certain brands and colors.  I like medium point.  I don’t like it when the ink smears.  I don’t mind spending money to get good pens.  On my kitchen table where I write every morning is a coffee cup full of pens, black and blue ink.  I alternate colors every day in my writing journal.  I don’t know why I do that, but it gives my journals a nice appearance, despite my nearly-illegible handwriting.

Journals are important too.  I’ll write in almost anything, but I like wider lines better.  I have a box full of journals that I’ve been writing in since 1977.  I also have a box of journals that I’ve been writing in since the end of January.  Every morning I write three pages.  On weekends I write at night as well.  I write three to five pages every day.  Since I started this habit, I’ve written, by hand, over 800 pages.  I plan to continue this practice for the rest of my life.

My journal writing is nothing spectacular.  Sometimes I write prayers.  Other times I write my plans for the day.  I might write about what happened the day before.  Or I might write about feelings I’m having at the moment.  And sometimes I write something that will become a blog.  As I said, it’s nothing spectacular.  I keep my writing to myself and I rarely share it with anyone.  This allows me to write whatever I want without offending anyone when my thoughts become negative or fearful.  The purpose of this exercise is to reach 10,000 hours, the number of hours Malcolm Gladwell says in Outliers, one needs to be really good at something.

Besides a place of privacy and a place to sharpen my skills, journal writing can also be therapeutic and cathartic.  Many times I have gone into writing feeling discouraged and afraid and then left feeling peaceful and strong.  But this is only a benefit and it doesn’t always happen.  The point is simply to do it every day, as part of my Purpose whether or not I derive any benefits from it.  (But, yes, the benefits, when they occur, are nice.)

Those are my tools.  We all need our tools to do our work.  Though finances may be tight for those starting, I find it best to spend some money here.  It will make the job more enjoyable and allow you to concentrate on the actual work, rather than the additional details.  The right tools help me to Get Started and to Keep Going.

My Goal to Reach My Goals

Life goes by fast and the daily flow of events can threaten to overwhelm us and, worse, make us forget our goals.  One of the reasons I write every morning and every night is to remind myself of what I want in life.  And I tell myself over and over again.  I want a house on the beach.  That goal represents several goals, some financial, some spiritual, some professional, and some personal.  I believe writing is the key to getting the things I want and so, even though I’m tired, I keep working.  

This is what we need to do to reach our goals.  We work through fatigue, busyness, and most of all, we work through all the tricks the Enemy tries to play on us in our heads.  For myself, I work through fear, guilt, the feeling of ineffectiveness, all the same old stuff.  And I keep working because, ultimately, fear is based on what I believe other people may think.  But here’s the thing:  when I’m in my Purpose, I don’t care what other people think.  It’s not that I want to be insensitive or be unwilling to learn new and better ways of doing things, but if I keep writing, mistakes and all, I’ll get to where I need to be.  Worrying what others think about my work keeps me second guessing and satisfying no one, especially not myself.  

So I Keep Going.  At this moment, I am feeling the adrenaline of gratitude.  I’ve been practicing gratitude a lot lately.  I’ve said thank you for the oddest things – for a cloud in the sky, for the ability to read, for specific words, like “street” or “canyon” or “palm.”    I’ve said thank you for colors, for my ability to walk, and for the two pennies I found on the street.  As I practice this discipline, some interesting things happen.  First, my mind tends to connect more good things with the thing I’m thankful for. 

For example tonight I said thank you for the word “street” that I saw on a highway sign.  As soon as I said thank you for that word, I remembered two brothers I knew in high school, who had the last name, “Street.”  I remembered how much fun we had in Mr. Charles’ business class together and how much they made me laugh.  I hadn’t thought of or seen these guys for years, but some simple words of gratitude brought me back to some very nice times.

With my mind feeling lighter, I felt happy and enthusiastic.  I’ve been practicing this all week.  I’ve noticed that my thought life hasn’t felt as cluttered or as negative as it often does.   (But I still fight handling frustration well when passwords don’t work or I fight technology issues.)  So I’ve been practicing gratitude all week.

Then something interesting happened.

I got tired of being grateful.

What was that about? 

Why would I get tired of being grateful and happy?  

Although I don’t know if any of these questions are original, I wondered about the following:

·      Is there a limit to how much happiness we can handle?

·      Are we afraid of happiness?

·      Is happiness like a super-power that we have to learn how to wield correctly?

·      If I’m happy most of the time, will this set me apart from others?  Will I be alone in my happiness?  Will I be alone?

After considering these questions, I realized that happiness and gratitude are disciplines.  I decided to keep practicing gratitude and see where it takes me.   In The Strangest Secret, Earl Nightingale said, “(I)t is using all your courage to force yourself to think positively on your own problem.”

I never understood why it takes courage to think positively.  Now I do.  To be positive, to truly be positive and not just act so, takes courage because it is a new way of thinking for many of  us.  A friend said to me, “We have been given negative impact all our lives through complaining, criticism, and gossip.  We get it from our parents and the schools and from society.”

In The War of Art, Steven Pressfield says, “The highest treason a crab can commit is to make a leap for the rim of the bucket.”

Am I committing treason by really wanting to be happy?

Here’s another question:  What if happiness isn’t the end, but the beginning of something new, something better, a life in which I can use to bless the world.  Is that why there is such a great struggle against Purpose?  Is there some spiritual force that wants us all to be miserable so that nothing worthwhile gets done in this world?  

I don’t have the answers to these questions, but I’m going to continue being grateful, continue writing, and continue reading.  I’m going to Get Started and Keep Going every single day of my life.  This is my goal that will help me reach my goals.

For the World

The last thing I want to do is write.  That’s why I know it’s the first thing I need to do.  Every morning I wake up between 5:00 and 6:00 a.m. and I write three pages by hand.  I usually wake up feeling apathetic.  But I write anyway, and soon after starting, my apathy disappears and is usually replaced by enthusiasm.  I usually don’t get to write again until after I get home from work, between 9:40 and 10:00.  As I’m driving home from work, the apathy strikes again.  There’s a voice inside my head that says, “You’ve had a long day.  Why don’t you skip writing for tonight?  You deserve a break.  Make a bowl of popcorn and grab some comic books and then go to bed.”

            The truth is I do deserve a break.  A bowl of popcorn and some comic books would be well-deserved.  But then I hear my Muse saying, “Where’s my blog, Lazy?” 

            She’s smiling as she says it, but she’s reminding me that she reads all my work and that she’s waiting for more. 

            But here’s the thing:  I go through this battle every day.  Every.  Single.  Day.  I’ve been writing these blogs for almost two years, and there’s almost never a day when I don’t fight apathy or distractions.  And those aren’t even the worst days.  On the worst days I fight fear or a sense of futility.  There is almost never a day when I just sit down without any resistance.  There is almost never a day when it’s easy.  Some days the ideas come more quickly than others.  Some days the writing flows more smoothly.  But there is almost never a day when it feels easy.  It feels easy only when I’m done.  I wish there were an easier way.  I wish I could encourage aspiring writers with all the great benefits of being in my Purpose.  But here’s what I’ve experienced so far:

·      I have a readership of about 20.  (Recently I had 30 readers on a blog, but, ironically, it was a guest blog by another writer.  More ironically, her organization told her she was not allowed to publicize her own writing with outside agencies and I had to delete it.)

·      Among my readership, only one is a close friend.  Very few of my friends or family members read my work.

·      I have made absolutely no money with this so far.

·      I have put hours and hours of time into this.

·      Though I have approached at least three people in hopes to be mentored, two said no and declined to even read my work and the other read some of my work but did not respond to my request.

·      I get less sleep and sometimes, especially at night, I’m so tired that I’m falling asleep while writing. 

·      I struggle with self-doubt and even feelings of irrelevance.

Am I complaining?  No, I am simply stating facts.   But here’s another fact:

I wouldn’t trade any of this for the world.  

And here are some more facts:

·      Writing has brought me inner healing.

·      I feel like I have contributed to the world, or at least a small part of it. 

·      I enjoy life more than I ever have before.

·      I’m having fun.

·      Every day I get to participate in the miracle of creative birth.  I am always amazed about how something new happens every time I write.

·      Every day I get to be with my Muse, the force that gives me energy and creativity, the voice of God whispering in my ear.

·      Every day I Get Started and Keep Going, and it feels wonderful.

So I wouldn’t trade this for the world.

I Hate Waiting

“You usually have to wait for that which is worth waiting for.”

Craig Bruce

“The world is full of magical things patiently waiting for our wits to grow sharper.”

Bertrand Russell

“You can't stay in your corner of the forest waiting for others to come to you. You have to go to them sometimes.”

A. A. Milne

I hate waiting.  I’m not patient with red lights or long lines or for the things I want in life. But sometimes waiting is necessary.  When I was in my early 30’s I was told about a job opportunity that would be perfect for me.  The timing was perfect because I hated the job I had at the time and I knew – absolutely knew – that this new possibility would be perfect also.  The person who told me about it said she would be leaving her position and that she would personally recommend me for the position.  I was elated.

Then things changed.  She didn’t get the job she had applied for.  I was crushed.

Then she got another job.  I was elated again.

I then began the process of applying for the position.  This was before the days of the Internet so I personally went there, resume in hand, and asked to see the person in charge.  He was available and we had a good meeting.  In my mind I saw him offering me a position on the spot.  He didn’t.  He wanted a formal interview in a week. I had to wait.  I went to the next interview, again thinking once that was over he would offer me a position on the spot.  Again, he didn’t.  More waiting.  He wanted another interview, this time with a group of other employees.  That was scheduled for a few days later.  That went well, except for one person on the interview team who clearly disliked me though I had no idea why.  (I later found out she disliked most men.)  I had two friends on the inside so I thought I had a very good chance.  I was told to call back at the end of the week.  I did.  Then I was told to call back in another week.  I did.  Then… and on and on it went.  It was like a roller coaster ride with my hopes going up and down, up and down.  (And I hate roller coasters.) 

Finally, the time came when a decision had to be made.  It was between me and one other person.  I needed to know so I could alert my present employer and he needed to tell me due to his scheduling needs.  On the day of the decision, he and I had a tense phone call in which he said, “You’re not guaranteed the position.”

So all I could do was wait.

Finally, and I don’t remember if I called him or he called me, he said, “We’ve decided to go with the other candidate.”

Though I was in shock, I asked, “Was there anything I could have done differently to have gotten the job?”

He only said, “We feel the other candidate would be a better fit.”

I had no idea what that meant, because it didn’t mean anything.  There was a more specific reason I wasn’t hired, but he didn’t want to tell me.  Perhaps he just wanted to be done with the process.  Or perhaps he didn’t want a confrontation.  Perhaps he was afraid of saying something that might trigger a lawsuit.  Whatever the reason, he wasn’t going to tell me.

Before I hung up, I asked if I could check in periodically in case anything had changed.  He said, “Sure,” and we ended the conversation.

I was devastated.  It was the only time in my life that I cried because I didn’t get a job.  What made it worse was not knowing why. Even my friends on the inside had no idea what had happened.  I felt helpless and frustrated because I didn’t know what to fix or improve.  I didn’t know what to do.

So I did the only thing I could do.  I Kept Going.  I did things in my life to make it better.  I also called the organization back a few weeks later.  And I did this about once a month, reminding them I was still available if anything should change.

Then three things happened.  I lost my present job.  I quickly got a new job, one I liked very much.  But the most important thing was that I found out why I wasn’t selected:  the person they hired had more formal education than me.  That was the reason.

So I made the decision to return to school and get a teaching credential. 

Now here’s where things get interesting:

On the week I returned to school, the organization called me.  It was on a Thursday and there was a message on the answering machine.  (This was also before cell phones were commonplace.)  I returned the call immediately, but he was gone.  I called back the next morning, Friday, and we scheduled an appointment for 4:00 that afternoon.  When I arrived, he handed me a stack of books and said, “You start on Monday.”

I worked there for seven years.  I was Teacher of the Year my first year, and the candidate they had initially selected, the one who was “a better fit” was fired after having taught only one class.

There are at least two lessons to be gleaned from this experience:

First, most hiring decisions are not final.  Eventually, a new decision will have to be made.  Someone will quit, be fired, transferred, promoted, demoted or die, and a new position will open.  And sometimes companies make the wrong decision.  In fact, within most organizations, new hiring decisions are made about every three months.

The second thing I learned is that there is a right time for everything.  Had I gotten the job I wanted when I wanted it I would not have gotten my teaching credential.  Getting my teaching credential allowed doors to open up for me for the rest of my life.   I could have had that job without a teaching credential (many of the staff did), but when the job ended, I would have had very few options.

Currently, there are things I want to see happen.  I have waited a long time for some of these things.  But I also know that timing is crucial.  I believe in a God who guides us if we allow Him.  I trust He knows the right time.  In the meantime, my job is not to sit around and wait passively.  My job is to visualize what I want and do everything I can to prepare – physically, mentally, spiritually, emotionally, and professionally.  This is why I write every day.  This is why I try to move forward just a little every day, until I could make larger strides, until I can reach my goal. This is why I fight fear and distractions.  This is why I Get Started and Keep Going every day.  There’s something very good that is waiting for me.

Today It Was Hard to Be a Writer

Today it was hard to be a writer.  I felt like a fraud and an idiot.  I wrote and wrote and most of it looked awful.  I couldn’t seem to get my thoughts together.  I worried that nothing I was saying was interesting or original and that I was becoming boring and repetitive.  Today is November 1, the beginning of National Novel Writing Month or, NaNoWriMo.  In this process, one is expected to write a 50,000-word novel in one month.  That’s about 1,667 words a day.  Currently I write about 1,000 a day, between my journal and my blogs.  Today I wrote more because it’s Saturday, but it was, with my blog at least, tortuous.  I felt frustrated and foolish and I wondered how I could ever write a novel or do anything of lasting importance.

            Still, in the end, everything turned out fine.  Today felt like I had had a fight with someone I love.  It was unpleasant and painful at the time, but it was also cathartic, productive, and even instructive.  So what did I learn?

            First, I learned that all I need to do is write.  I don’t have to publish.  I don’t have to show it to everyone or anyone.  I can delete it all if I want to.  I’m only supposed to write.  Do I want to publish?  Of course.  But the point is to write.  As I do, I will know whether it’s worth publishing or not.  Most of the time I do publish.  This will be 752^nd blog.  So if once in a while I don’t publish anything, it’s fine.  As long as I’ve written something that day, then I’ve done my work.

            The next thing I’ve learned is that sometimes this is just hard.  Sometimes things are just hard.  You can have a fight with someone you love or have a bad day at a good job.  These things happen.  In The War of Art, Steven Pressfield says the professional knows how to be miserable.  I don’t want to be miserable, but I don’t want to give up if I am miserable either.  I’m committed to this permanently, including the times when it gets hard. 

            Finally I learned that I can always go back to anything I’ve written and rewrite it, delete it, or leave it alone.  I’ve written things that I initially loved and then felt embarrassed by later.  And I’ve written things I wasn’t crazy about (though I didn’t usually publish them) only to decide later that they weren’t so bad or only needed a little improvement.  The important thing is to write.  That’s it. 

            So that’s what I’ve done.  I didn’t give up.  I Got Started and I Kept Going.  Tonight I will review the other work I’ve done and decide whether to move forward with it or delete it.  But for now, I’ve done my work.