The Source of my Procrastination

It has been brought to my attention that I am a terrible blogger.  I’ve received angry letters.  Well, not so much letters, more like IM’s.  And not some much angry, more like pointed.  Eh, splitting hairs.

I may be a terrible blogger but I’ve learned I am an awesome procrastinator.  That’s something, at least and I take what I can get.  I always have the best intentions, wonderful little ideas that play in my head.  They are terrific and ambitious … but never see the light of day.  My ultimate goal is to nurture these ideas into living, breathing creations and, dare I say, accomplishments?  Whether my ideas have to do with my blogs, my stories, or even myself I need to think less and act more.

I currently have a list of all the ways I’d like to improve this blog, a half finished entry for my Shadow Ridge series blog, and five separate ideas for stories… yes, five (three new and two continued!) I thought my main issue stemmed from the fact that I sometimes lack focus and that inspiration is so fleeting.  Then I read an article from Write to Done this morning.  The reason I have such trouble keeping up with things is because I haven’t committed myself wholly to my writing.  It’s no surprise really.  I have trouble focusing on myself and the things that brings me joy.  But if I ever want to reach my goals then I have to make a shift.

I have been writing  since I was a little girl.  I remember the first thing I ever wrote was play for paper bag puppets I made when I was 9.  By the time I was 13 I had notebooks full of a fantasy world I created that I could retreat to when things got rough at home.  I wrote all throughout high school but really found a place for my writing when I introduced to role-playing games when I was 17.  I wrote nonstop for years after that but shortly after the cancer my writing became sporadic and ended up tapering off completely.   That is until earlier this year.

I often think that my procrastination is a direct result of my fear of not being good enough.  It’s easier to put things off and allow them to live solely in my head than to put it out there and not be as well-received as I hope.  But not writing hurts my heart.  I need to write.  Despite the rust I know I am meant to write, it’s the only thing that I am truly passionate about.  Then I read this from the same article:

“And before you know it, you’ll forget that you ever were a writer. You’ll convince yourself that writing is unsustainable as a career and not that important even as a hobby. You’ll forget what it’s like to finish a great piece and bask in the knowledge that you’ve created something out of nothing. That this is what you were meant to do; that it gives you energy for every other part of your life. And you’ll tell yourself that it obviously wasn’t right for you.”

I’ve been to that place and let me tell you, I am not going there again.  It’s time for me “to trust my instincts, close my eyes, and leap.”

Evil Pencils

The ideas have been flowing so freely lately that I naively thought that Mr. Block and I had seen the last of each other.  But somehow he’s found a way to weasel his way back into my life.  Blast!  I am working on a new brainstorming/outline technique that I am hoping will get me over the hump.  So, here’s to shackling myself to the keyboard this weekend!

In Pursuit of Happiness

A few days ago I was telling Ramses that as I near 30 I have been feeling very strongly about going after what we really want.  Since November Ramses has completed countless written tests, physical agility tests, interviews, and 25 page + background packets all in pursuit of what he wants… a career in law enforcement.

As I watch him study, train, and wake up at inhuman hours to make appointments in his sharp-looking suit my heart swells with pride.  Up until this point in our lives we’ve been content.  For the most part we’ve achieved everything we set out to achieve and live comfortably enough.  We have a wonderful marriage and a beautiful home.  But contentment does not equal happiness.  I think what was missing was… passion.  Neither of us pursued fulfillment.  We have both worked decent jobs that paid the bills but if I lost my job tomorrow the only thing I would miss is the paycheck.

So what do I truly want from this life?  I want to be healthy.  I want to be a mother.  I want to write and I don’t care if I ever publish anything, I just want to write and finish something that I start.  My goals are simple and as I achieve them, loftier goals may surface but I am willing to focus one day at a time.

Anything of worth takes risk and sacrifice.  And as I watch the people around me follow their passions I feel truly inspired.

Complete Person

“Everyone is a house with four rooms; a physical, an emotional, a mental, and a spiritual one. Most of us tend to live in one room most the time, but unless we go into every room every day, even if only to keep it aired… we are not a complete person.”

-Indian Proverb

I love to write.  More specifically I love to write stories.  When was the last time I wrote a story?  Probably… 5 years ago.  I am not counting what I write in my blogs, those are just personal feelings that turn into words and fall out of my head.  The last time I sat down and wrote about characters and stories that were exciting and emotional was years ago.  So, if I love it so much then why haven’t I taken time to do it?  That is an excellent question, self.

I can make up tons of excuses.    I stuffed all my free time with other pursuits;  buying a home, trying to start a family, work, getting my health on track, etc.  However, the truth of the matter is I decided to neglect that aspect of myself. Sure I longed for the days I would spend hours on end weaving together stories filled with characters I loved and pouring everything I had into it.  But the more time that passed the more I felt like I just didn’t have it in me anymore, that I had lost something that meant so much to me.

I am guilty of “living in one room most of the time.”  That’s clearly evident to me.  There is a Jewel song that I love called Deep Water in it there is a line that says, “And you wake up to realize that your standard of living somehow got stuck on survive.”  That is what has happened to me.  Living is filling your days with the things you love.  The majority of my adult life has been monopolized by health scares and crappy “adult” problems.  Much of those things were out of my control but I allowed myself to fixate on them instead of just accepting them for what they were.

So, it’s time for some spring cleaning!  Those four rooms have cobwebs and dust for days not to mention a whole lot of unnecessary clutter.

I’ve gotten back to my writing.  I’ve spent a couple weeks researching and brainstorming and this week I started actually writing.  It’s taken me four days to get 3 good pages of material but let me tell you, these are the most satisfying 3 pages I have ever written.