The Next Blog (Friday's) Today

Writing this a bit early, because I had an epiphany on the ride home tonight, as I read article after article about artistic events and expressions that I was passionate to see. And I felt guilty. Because, shouldn't I be creating something of passion? Shouldn't I have a story I feel I need to tell?

Well right now, I don't have a story I'm passionate to write. When I discovered what became The Zookeeper, I immediately knew that I needed to focus on it. When I take a new job I am invariably consumed by all the things I need to learn.

Right now, I am passionate about rediscovering my creativity. Classes (taking a dance class starting next week at a local dance school, and testing out a singing class at Church) and books (Freedom, The Lacuna, perhaps another dive into Susan Collins - the author of The Hunger Games), a photography exhibit at the Corcoran. An after work event at the Phillips.

Perhaps its justifying a lack of writing, but it feels as if right now I need to refill my well of inspiration. Read, take notes, explore, soak in. So while by tomorrow I may be off on a novel tangent, I think it's more important to let myself not.

The New No Snow

Bummer! I had such visions of a snow day today. Nestling at a coffee shop with Jonathan Franzen's FREEDOM and dredging up memories for the memoir idea.

Instead, I'm half-an-hour into work mode, and heading to the office early because my dear one and I are out of milk.

But hey - ate well yesterday, have still not caved on soda, and I've decided the new iphone will allow me to take instant dictation on the street (inspiration captured!) without looking like a madman. So there's that.

The memoir goal, by the way, is to physically describe both of the main players. To really dig in and use description to give a better vision of who they are.

The Next Deep Breath

Christa's blog talks about patience today. The idea that all those" overnight successes" we constantly hear about are actually, usually, the end result of years of hard work.

Today's question (taking a deep, deep breath before I dare ask it) is: Do I have the patience for a major project like another novel? Do I even want it that much?

Next Time, I Won't Beat Myself Up

That's become a mini-mantra over the past few days.

Don't beat yourself up. Do your best, but do it because it brings peace and pleasure, not as if not-doing is a failure of some kind. Go to joy.

And I've "given" myself two projects to play with - the nofiction and the fiction - which seems a nice way to give myself room without blame.

The Old Idea, Too

And then this morning, between church and a cup of coffee with a creative friend, I realized: I don't have to pick one thing. It doesn't have to be this idea or that choice. If creativity, and fiction, and engagement are to be my bywords, then I have to allow for writing as play. (Even using all these italics and bolds goes against the mantras drilled into me during my MFA.

So if for a morning it's Michael V and next week it's "Divided Son," more the better. If on Saturday I sleep and watch movies - no guilt, let yourself enjoy. And if today, I write a few lines for both of my current story ideas, and then go to the gym, good for me. This year has to be about peace as much as ambition. I've got 40 more years of this balancing act to go.

The Next Idea, Part II

I'd sort of given up on the "next idea" from last week's post. Last night, however, we had a huge family meal for Bonnie's 70th Birthday. Great big fun. Lots to drink. Lots of conversations with the sprawling extended family. And I thought: there's something there.

New Plans for Every Other Friday

So suddenly I'm calling them "Intentional Fridays" and trying to define a list of activities that qualify.

Essentially, the idea is to treat my every-other-Friday-off as the gift it truly is: and opportunity to invest in

my LIFE, rather than the work I do to support it.

The deal I'd cut (the idea I'd proposed) was that every other Friday I'd get up with Matt and leave the house with him, so I could be out in the world (even if only at coffee shop) and engaging in something meaningful at the opening of the day. The idea continued that I'd stick to my "intention" for at least 2-3 hours, so that I could still benefit from the joys of pure, unplanned time in the afternoon.

And then I realized that I'd just assumed that to be of value, that time had to be writing time.

But wait, aren't I also committing to a bigger, broader approach to this 40th year? So I've expanded the "intentionals" list. Here we go: writing, fostering fiction/creativity/inspiration (research, reading a good work of fiction or seeing an artistic movie), exercising, or providing support for family and friends – particularly family.

Because I realized that a serious strain of guilt has been growing in me over the past year or so - the idea that I'm not doing enough as my parents age and my friend's lives (and Matt and my life too) accrue complexity and challenge.

So instead of feeling guilty for not writing (or whatever it is I'm not doing on any given day) my goal is to commit that time simply to moving onto a positive path for the next 40 years. To dedicating at least 3-4 hours, every other week to the things that will sustain me in the long haul.