It took me a while to stop laughing – I mean, there’s not much that does contribute to my writing these days.
And then I gave the question a second look. Is that really true? The things that consume my time and my life – primarily my family and my health, but the little things as well, like laundry and what’s for dinner – get in the way of my writing. They also inform and inspire my writing.
Reducing the time and energy I spend on my family is out of the question. The new normal that is life impacted by cancer dictates that my health must remain a high priority – perhaps that should have been the case all along. Nobody wants me to stop doing laundry – ok, well maybe those of you who only interact with me online may not care, but the population of our area code might. There’s really not much fat to trim.
Oh, you mean all that time I spend on the internet – specifically on facebook? And the TV, too?
Ok, I guess I do have a little down time here and there. But – yes, there’s a but, there’s always a but – my TV and internet time inform and inspire my writing as well. Most of the time, my brain is buzzing with new ideas and perspectives I want to explore and discuss – ideas and perspectives gained through my interactions with these media. My house is full of little scraps of paper on which I scribbled little nuggets of brilliance for future rumination and dissertation.
The rumination I’m good at; I looooooove me a good think. Research makes my fingertips tingle, and my heart race with giddiness. Translating all that brain power into a post? nerve-wracking.
Writing is a declaration, a commitment. Fear of commitment does impact my writing practice. I can mull ideas in my head, comparing them to other ideas, and holding them up to the light without fear of rejection. I have yet to hit the publish button on my blog without experiencing a racing pulse, and a bit of anxiety.
So why do I blog? Why don’t I just keep all those delicious ponderings to myself? Once again, the TV informs my writing: my daughter is watching “Horton Hears a Who” as I type. At this moment in the movie, the Whos are shouting for their lives, “WE ARE HERE!” I imagine all the bloggers of the world, furiously typing away at their keyboards, and the subtext of their carefully chosen and intricately woven prose is the same existential declaration: “We are here!”
Of course, I’m projecting; I can only speak for myself. Pondering my own mortality certainly feeds the need to declare my existence. But it’s more than that; I started my first blog in 2001, 9 years before I was diagnosed with cancer, and 7 years before I found out I was going to be a mom. Long before I felt the urgent need to create a record of myself for my daughter, I was compelled to leave my mark on the world through my writing. The urge to write began when I learned to read.
Despite the urge, I still go day after day without writing. I compose entire essays and posts in my mind as I go about my day, while simultaneously washing the oatmeal from between my daughters toes (no, I don’t know how it got there), and weighing the pros and cons of returning to school in January (I just registered), but when I sit down at the computer my mind goes blank. The prose sings in the amorphous space between my ears, but loses it’s voice as I try to pin it to paper.
I know I’m not alone in this; it’s a common issue for writers.
I also know the cure: Writing anyway, despite the fact that I know the words falling from my fingers are all wrong. Fear seeps in as my fingers hang over the keyboard, hesitating, afraid that what comes out will never measure up to what resides inside. So what if it doesn’t? “There is no such thing as great writing, only great re-writing.” I know this on a logical level, but it takes practice to remind my fingers. I need to stop being judgmental with myself, and I need to write despite the urge to hesitate.
“Writing makes a person very vulnerable. It opens you to public criticism, to ridicule, to rejection. But it also opens conversation and thought. It stirs minds, and touches hearts. It brings us into contact with our souls. So how can it possibly be a waste of time, an idle act, a mistake, a betrayal of truth? Who can possibly tell us not to do it?”
I just joined an online challenge called 21*5*800 hosted by Bindu Wiles. 21 days. 5 days of yoga per week. 800 words per day.
I am so excited about this challenge.
The group is actually on day 4 of the challenge and I just got started. I’m just going to start where the group is, then add a few extra days at the end, probably just picking up the prompts I dropped from the first few days.
I’ve already decided that I while I intend to write my 800 words every day, I probably won’t share all of it, although I may share a portion. I want to get into a daily writing, and yoga, practice. I want to be able to be honest in my writing, and I have learned that I have to be much too careful about what I publish in this format. That said, today’s topic is relevant: Fear.
Fear
Fear has become a big part of my life since my breast cancer diagnosis. Fear of death? Certainly. Fear of pain? Oh, yes. Fear of being a burden on my family? Absolutely. Fear of the effects of my cancer on my one year old daughter? Terrifying.
I have found that the yoga helps. I’ve learned to breathe through the movements: the tough stretches, holding a challenging pose. That practice transfers to the uncomfortable and painful procedures. A deep breath and long slow exhale as I endure the poking and prodding makes all the difference. The pain is still there, but it is a bit more manageable. Focusing on my breath takes my focus away from the pain.
Fear takes me out of the present and puts me into the future – a future that is unknowable, yet my imagination tries it’s best to find every worst case scenario. Pain forces me into right now – so does my yoga practice. When I’m in now, what might happen doesn’t matter. Every moment has an infinity of possible outcomes.
When I’m seized by anxiety or panic, the yogic breathing can settle me down. Cleansing breath: long, slow exhale opens up more space in the lungs for a deeper, fuller inhale. Raise the arms to expand the chest, then slowly lower them as I exhale. Before I know it, I’m focusing more on how my body feels and improving this critical function. The fear is still there, but it is a bit more manageable. Focusing on my breath takes my focus away from the fear.
That’s not to say that fear is unwarranted. I have an aggressive form of breast cancer that has spread to the lymph nodes, complicated by another rare form of cancer that has a pretty grim prognosis. This is not something I can ignore or wish away. I also cannot focus only on the present. I am submitting myself to these procedures and chemotherapy, sacrificing my comfort and well being in the present, because I fear what will happen if I don’t, and in hope of improving my well being in the future.
so many things to do this summer
1. Kick Cancer’s Ass!
2. Get lots of sleep
3. Eat my veggies every day
4. Become habitual about exercise
5. Get really, really good at yoga – like sexy, awesome good
6. Catch up on all those thank you cards I need to send out
7. Rearrange the furniture in the nursery
8. Write more
9. Find ways to fit a little Joy into even the crappy days
10. Play
11. Dance
12. Sing (sorry if you happen to be within earshot)
13. Giggle
14. Snuggle with my baby
15. Get caught up on all the movie watching I’ve missed the past few years
16. Read a book for fun
17. Work the kinks out of my blog
18. Write fiction
19. Get a massage, maybe several
20. Pay the late fee at the library so I can check out more books
21. Blog more
22. Increase my blog readership
23. Learn to focus on what I can control and let go of what I can’t
24. Play
25. Spend as much time with my little girl as I can
26. Tickle my daughter more
27. Snuggle with my husband
28. Go on as many adventures as we can
29. Laugh
30. Do the best I can to make sure my breast cancer doesn’t interrupt my baby’s childhood.
Yes, that’s right. While I generally try to avoid posting pictures of myself (except for the extremely rare occurrence of a flattering shot), and I especially try to avoid pictures of myself eating, it’s not everyday that I get to eat haggis with chopsticks.
This picture was taken in February of 2008. The event was Gung Haggis Fat Choy – a celebration that originated in Vacouver, B.C., to honor both Robbie Burns birthday and the Chinese New Year. Burns’ Suppers traditionally occur on Robbie Burns birthday, January 25, and the Chinese New Year begins any where from late January to mid-February. Often these holiday’s occur on the same night, and so they were combined into this one grand celebration in both Vancouver B.C., and Seattle.
The celebration includes performers representing each of the cultures (and some representing both), bagpipes, drums, dancers – both Scottish and Chinese – and of course, a dragon – and the traditional agenda of the Burns Supper: The Selkirk grace, the entrance of the haggis (the most important part, in which the haggis is “slain”), and then of course, eating to excess, drinking to excess, and dancing to excessively loud music.
Gung Haggis Fat Choy was not possible for us this year, but I’m already looking forward to next year.
……….
This my random February photo entry for Mama Kat’s Writing Workshop.
I keep meaning to play along with MamaKat and her weekly writing workshops, but I never seem to be able to make it happen. Then this prompt came along, and I decided it was time to put in print all those excuses floating around in my head.
3.) What have you been busy doing that’s keeping you from updating your blog? How hard is it for you to get back into the swing of blogging when you take time off? (inspired by Sera)
The first, and most obvious, excuse is my 2 month old daughter. I knew long before she was born that she would consume my time and energy, but what you know in theory does not always match the magnitude of what happens in reality. I just don’t have the time. I really don’t know how women parent their children, manage their home, and then find the wherewithal to hold down a job too. I’m lucky to get a blog post in a couple times a week. (yes, I know that stay at home moms work – I am a stay at home mom, and I’m having trouble keeping up with the work load. Trust me, I know that stay at home moms work.)
Another big thing that’s holding me back from posting is that I don’t know what this blog is about anymore. I’ve been thinking a lot about this blog, why it exists, and what I’m trying to do with it. Since Gem came along, I write most every post with her in mind. In fact, even the posts that are not directed at her or about her, are usually written for her in some way. I’m beginning to think of this blog as one big ongoing letter to my child that I just happen to be sharing with the general public. I have this idea that if anything happened to me, she would have this blog – something in my own words that tells her who I am, what I believe, what I care about, what I value… I’m not planning on having anything happen to me, but there’s something comforting about knowing that I have something to leave behind for her, just in case. But this blog is more than that as well. It’s also a public platform, it’s an opportunity to interact online with others like me, it’s writing practice, it’s a soapbox… Which takes me back to being a little confused about what this blog is really about.
Then there is the big issue of confidence, or the lack thereof. I write posts all the time and then delete them before before publishing. There are so many reasons for this. I worry that my writing skills are not up to par. I worry that people will get tired of so many pictures of my daughter. I worry that I have nothing to worthwhile to say. I worry about the reactions of my family members who are so offended by my studies and beliefs regarding politics and organized religion. That old Seuss quote about “Be who you are and say what you mean because those who matter don’t mind, and those who mind don’t matter” doesn’t help any when those who mind are your family. But then I think of my daughter again – what would I want her to do? Do I want her to sensor herself to please those who do not value her perspective or insight? Absolutely not. So why do I do it myself? What kind of example am I providing? AND What happens if someday her beliefs are different than mine? Will I be offended by her writings? On a theoretical level, I believe that would not be a problem. I really hope that I can live up to that in reality. Of course I’d like her values and beliefs to match mine – I value what I value for a reason. On the other hand, I would rather she had well researched values and beliefs of her own rather than just parroting what her parents (and teachers and preachers) taught.
Then after all that cogitating, I’m just too exhausted to write.
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