Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

One Down and Two to Go

One child started school yesterday – my youngest child, mind you – while the other two are still… here. My other daughter leaves on Sunday for her semester abroad in Japan and my son continues to look for a job to match his freshly minted college diploma.

I can imagine the house will be quiet sooner than I think. I can even imagine missing all of my kids when they are no longer living in upstairs bedrooms. Right now, however, I might just attack the next adult child who comes in and says, "What's for Dinner, I'm hungry!" and then squabbles over who is going to do the dishes.

I had an amazing epiphany yesterday in regards to a piece that I've been writing and I tried over and over again to find the time to sit down and work through my brilliant plotting plans. It didn't work out so well. They all wanted to touch base with me, chat about their plans and activities. They wanted to be – gasp – social…with me. And all I wanted to do was shut the world out and write. Oh how hard it was to turn off my computer and rip myself out of the creative process in order to go be with the people that I love.

And in the end I went to bed knowing all about middle school volleyball and lack of lockers at school. I know how my husband moved his office and felt about the transitions he's made at work. I know that my son is still happy in his new relationship and that my daughter played basketball until her legs hurt. I've shared my day as well and somehow we have all connected in those small, innocuous ways that families do. We've touched each other's lives, like a hand on a shoulder or a pat on the back, and enjoyed that gift of care.

My writing sits and waits. I learned a long time ago to jot down my ideas as fast as I can because I never know how long it's going to take me to get back to it.

I don't mind being a hermit. I love being in relationship more.

Saturday, August 29, 2009

How to be Inspired

I love it when I run across other writers who look at the art of writing in ways similar to how I do. Two women have come to my attention over the last few days – one is the author Mary Pipher and the other is a writer named Jennifer McGuiggan, the creator of The Word Cellar.

I picked up Mary Pipher's book Seeking Peace: Chronicles of the Worst Buddhist in the World and have been enjoying reading her autobiographical account of what happened to her when success struck after the publication of her bestselling Reviving Ophelia. As I read her story I am aware that she doesn't seem to realize that there truly is an audience out there who understands what she is talking about. There is almost an apologetic vibe that comes with her acknowledgement of her success and how painful it was to manage. She is expecting everyone to say sarcastically – 'oh you poor baby, the lecture tour was so tough, must be nice.' And yet she writes her story anyway. It is in that compulsive need to put her story into words that I relate. It is painful, honest and soul searching. And I like her all the more for her honesty.

Writing is a process of surrender. I write because I must. There is a way that I make sense of my world and my experience through the written word. I can read Mary Pipher's work and feel a great deal of kinship for not only her work as a writer but the woman that she has been and is becoming. She inspires me to continue to use my writing as a tool of self awareness and growth.

The Word Cellar is a new find for me. Ms. McGuiggan's stories and blog caught my attention because she so obviously loves the act of writing. Reading through some of her entries, I found myself saying, Yes! That's it! You get it! Why do some of us write? What is this creative force that dwells within – sometimes quietly, sometimes painfully? How do we sabotage ourselves and what happens when we begin to reach for the dreams that sit so patiently waiting to be acknowledged? Jennifer's space is filled with the way that writing brings forth the richness of our lives – whether for publication or for our own sense of purpose. Check out what she says about the writing process here.

Inspiration is never something that I take for granted. I feel a great deal of gratitude this week for both of these writers because they have helped me hold on to my own truth: I love to write.

Friday, February 20, 2009

Why the Silence

What is there to say?

The art of unmasking is a challenge for a writer. How hard it is to strip away the layers that create the artifice of my daily life. Even trying to "be real" or "authentic" takes on the veneer of a mask.

I love writing. I love exploring my world through the written word. And yet, blogging is like standing in a crowded park and talking to myself. Writing is the yearning to be known. But what sense am I to make of the fact that while I have given my blog address out to many friends and family – that only a couple still check in on occasion? My own mother who used to read this regularly forgot that I was even doing it. She simply drifted away because what was being said here did not hold her interest. That is my assessment, at any rate. I don't necessarily draw the conclusion that it is my lack of being interesting that has caused that to happen. It doesn't matter how busy the people around me are – living their own complicated lives – what I simply understand is that my yearning to be known; the desire to bring my perspective into the written word so that I can be seen is a futile effort.

Who cares? Beyond me, that is. And why does it matter? Does it matter?

Sometimes it matters. Not a great deal of the time – but there are moments when I move into that needy place of seeking validation outside of myself. There are moments when I want to be sought out – when I want to know that my voice is not only heard but enjoyed. And how strange it is, in those same moments, when it does happen, when I am seen – that I shy away from that focus. I deflect that attention and breathe a sigh of relief when the focus moves away from me. I want and I do not want. What I crave I also fear.

And so I end up in this place of homeostasis. Pulled by needs, stymied by fears – ah life. Is it really different for anyone?

Then what do I do? I end up writing about it. Turns out I had something to say after all.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Feel the Rain on Your Skin

The lyrics go –

'Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten'

  • Natasha Bedingfield – Unwritten

I've had trouble with words lately. Language has tangled on my tongue.

And as I struggle with the long pauses in my own ability to converse, as I sit wide eyed and lost with this strange sensation, I – feel. Feelings sift through my awareness. Tangled up in the needs of my soul, the dreams of my heart. Language fails me. How do I describe what I am just beginning to touch the edges of?

I can't. I struggle to even want to bring voice to what is moving through me. Whatever I am feeling – it isn't ready to be verbalized and contained by a vocabulary that defines and acts as a cage to the work of spirit. These are words that allow me to withdraw into clinical observation. As an example: 'Adaptive behaviors derived from past experiences within the family of origin.' That is truly an umbrella statement that keeps the feelings safe and untouched. It keeps the rain from hitting my skin. I need to feel the rain, I want to feel it for myself.

Sometimes words are simply too static for feelings that flow in the deep currents of life. Perhaps I'll be able to look back and make meaning out of this experience. Perhaps I will keep following the feelings and allow the words to remain unspoken. And somehow – and perhaps this is the strangest thing of all – the moment feels fresh and alive as little else has.

Sunday, April 6, 2008

Conscious Parenting

What follows is the foundation of an article that I am beginning to put together - as well as a possible workshop offered out to parents who are just a tad overwhelmed by the seemingly necessary standards of child rearing in the new millennia. It's long but if you do read through it and have some thoughts to share (not only on the writing but the ideas behind it) I would love to hear from you -

How to be a good parent always makes great fodder for the media grist mill of self help books and Dr. Phil shows. Along with all the other parents out there, I pay attention to what is considered good parenting practices. And yet, I wonder just what does our society define as a good parent? I am old enough now to see how that definition has shifted over the last twenty years.[i] I also see how larger cultural issues inform much of what we have come to condone as good parenting. What I haven’t seen very much of is the parenting process revealed as the personal journey that it is. Becoming a parent seems to negate anything else that we, as human beings, are. It takes over the life of an adult and becomes the mode of self definition for at least the next eighteen years.
Who I am – what I want and need in my own life – is not a question that is often asked by parents in the trenches of raising their children. What we want is for our children to succeed. What we need is to know that they are safe. [ii] What we don’t stop to look at is what our own definition of success truly is. We don’t ask ourselves what we are trying to keep our children safe from. If success is the holy grail of acceptance into an Ivy League college with a planned career in medicine when our child is still three years old – whose dream are we asking our children to live? If we try and wrap our children in bubble wrap over the course of their teenage years – how will they learn to trust their own judgment when faced with stressful or dangerous situations when you aren’t there to save them?
If I can really get in touch with my own definition of success then I can also ask myself how I measure up to my own standards. How am I modeling that vision of success? Do I even have a hobby that takes me out of the home? Am I vicariously enjoying a whole host of activities because I never had the chance to do those things when I was young? Am I trying to give my child everything that I always yearned for but never got? And here’s one last question: what kind of person does my child see when he or she looks at how I live my life? Do they see more than just sacrifice and prodding? Do they see humor and support? Do they see a man or a woman who is a human being?
All of these questions are meant to bring to your mind the awareness behind the choices and expectations that are made while parenting. Being aware of where the answers stem from can be powerful catalysts to re-examine whose life you are trying to lead. Just understanding the beliefs behind your expectations and actions can help you step back enough to do something that is absolutely necessary to the health of your child: Inquiring into their experience.
Tuning in to the person that your child is – past all the static noise of your own worries and fears – will help your child begin to develop some of the skills that they really need as they move into the adult world. Daniel Siegel wrote about this in his book Parenting from the Inside Out[iii]. Attunement, he writes, is the foundation for children's development of self. Perhaps it is difficult to listen to that degree when you aren’t sure what that really feels like. Think about it, what would it be like to have someone really tune in and listen to what you want from your own life? Just because you are no longer a child doesn’t mean that your opportunity to try out a new career or take a class or follow a dream is gone. What would it feel like for someone just to ask you questions, let you flesh out those dreams and brainstorm the ways in which you can actually take steps towards making them a reality?
What do you want your own life to look like?
In The Artist’s Way, Julia Cameron challenges her students to make a date with themselves every week.[iv] And it fascinates me how many adults need help to even come up with what that time with self would look like. Can you imagine what it would be like to invest some of your energy into your own dreams and wistful ponderings? Can you imagine valuing that time in the same way you value your child becoming a select soccer star?
Tuning in to my own dreams helps me tune in to the dreams that reside in my children’s hearts. It is so easy to build expectations and make assumptions about who they should be and yet, if I stay mindful to what those expectations and assumptions primarily say about my own beliefs – then I can set them aside for the moment and find out what my children believe. Giving children the space to begin the journey into knowing who they are is a powerful life lesson.
Being a conscious parent is not about pursuing perfection or good or bad parenting behavior. Conscious parenting is about being aware of all that I am in relationship with my role as parent. I was a child and teenager and young adult before I became a parent – and those parts still reside within me. The beliefs and values that I took out of my own childhood inform my thinking now. I can’t get past my own filters. It naturally follows that how I look at the world will impact how I look at the act of raising children in this world.
Knowing more about my own inner landscape helps me take a step back before plunging headlong into the latest fear induced parenting craze. Just because ‘everyone else is doing it’ becomes less important then what do I or my child want to do. I can feel the anxiety – and allow it to bring home the most important message of all: I really have no control over the life success of this child. I can guide, encourage, listen and support my child. I can teach and model the values that I think make up ethical living. What I can’t do, ultimately, is control what they will do with the tools that I have provided them with once they leave the home. I can’t stop bad things from happening to my children whether it is a painful break up with a girlfriend or getting mugged on the city sidewalk. What I hope they leave home with is resiliency: the ability to adapt and recover quickly from life’s setbacks. Is there any way to do that if you don’t have some measure of who you are as an individual? It’s hard to get up off the ground – when you don’t know what the ground looks like.
Conscious parenting is about mindfulness and being present in the moment that is at hand. Accepting all of myself – my strengths and my anxiety - as being present in the moment opens the door for acceptance of the fullness of another. I can label my anxiety and fear as bad – or I can hold those feelings as messengers from the past that want to tell me what will happen in the future. If I start listening to the loud voices in my own head that are spinning out all the “what if” stories of potential consequences, I can’t hear the most important voice of all – that of my child. My fear is my experience – not my child’s. Daniel Goleman talks about this in his book Social Intelligence. [v] We pass emotions to others – especially anxiety – as ways to lessen our own reactivity. Is it any wonder that the rate of anxiety and depression among children is growing substantially?
How do we escape this cycle of anxiety and help our children reach for success? How can we be involved parents and not intrusive parents? If we step back from trying to be ‘perfect’ parents, how will we know that we have done enough to insure the brightest possible future for our children? The answer, I believe, is unique to each individual parent and each individual child. That bright future does not fit into one definition. It is a custom tailored vision that needs to be explored. What I do believe is that as parents we need to ask ourselves what we want for our own brightest future – and decide if we are willing to become students once more in the classroom of life to get there. The other side of that equation is listening to our children as they begin to explore their own talents and interests. Put your expectations aside and listen. If that means slowing down and spending a few more evenings at home instead of basketball practice and violen lessons, so be it. Try it on for size and tune in to what you hear.

[i] (Stearns, 2003)
[ii] (Donahue, 2007)
[iii] (Siegal & Hartzell, 2003)
[iv] (Cameron, 1992)
[v] (Goleman, 2007)

Cameron, J. (1992). The Artist's Way. New York: Penguin.
Donahue, P. J. (2007). Parenting Without Fear. New York: St. Martins Griffen.
Goleman, D. (2007). Social Intelligence: The New Science of Human Relationships. New York: Bantam.
Gordon, T. (2000). Parent Effectiveness Training. New York: Three River Press.
Siegal, D., & Hartzell, M. (2003). Parenting from the Inside Out. New York: Tarcher/Penguin.
Stearns, P. (2003). Anxious Parenting: A History of Modern Childrearing in America. New York : New York University.

Saturday, January 26, 2008

Another blog

I like writing. And when I find myself doing a lot of writing on a certain area of my life I start paying attention.
I'm really curious right now at how I keep in connection with my body and the world around me. I've written about this - and I think many of you know how I've been exploring that relationship for many years (don't we all do this to a certain extent?)
Right now, this relationship between me, my body and the world is opening up a lot of questions. Mainly because I've had to go back to the most basic questions of all in order to find a toe hold in my life right now. Part of it goes back to watching that eagle on Rosario Strait. Another part is pulling back the layers and masks in order to really get to that mother of all epistemological questions: what do I know to be true?
I want to have a particular place to focus this conversation so I can better explore my own journey along this path. There are so many pieces that fit together for me. What I put in my body; how I put that food in my body; what other kind of sustenance does mind, body and spirit need; how I can grow my own food or simply how often I actually get outside an enjoy the world around me - all these pieces seem to fit under an umbrella of intention and philosophy that I want to understand better about myself.
I'm not at the forefront of the movement to live a more sustainable life and there is probably a lot you could teach me. I hope you will enter into those conversations with me as I keep finding more questions than answers.
So I have another blog called Gaia's Garden. I used to own a business by that name and it still resonates with me. You can reach it through the link on the sidebar. I'll say it here - and I'll say it there: If you would like to contribute to the blog, let me know and I will open it up to more authors.
Peace.

Monday, September 17, 2007

I just did something - unusual for me

I just submitted my first piece of writing to my grad school's newsletter/journal!!!!
I have no idea if it's useable or good enough - but I loved this little piece of writing I did a while back. I wrote it about my father's wedding - his second one that was held in my backyard.

Anyway - I feel like giggling. Had to share.