Good Morning...
Well--another week of snow and you would think I would be excited to sit at home and work, but everything in me wants to run and be around people and not be isolated. I earned very little money last week and so I have to get over myself and get back to work.
After I did the blog last night I was thinking about the first time I realized I wanted to be a writer. I was in elementary school. My teacher's name was Barbara Hartle. I always wanted to be like her so I became a teacher. We were in class one day and Mrs. Hartle was reading to us aloud for an hour before lunch like she did every day. I don't remember the story and I don’t know why that day it all clicked in for me, but what I do remember is staring out the window and being able to see and feel everything she was reading. It amazed me that my mind could connect to the writer of the story and I could see what they saw and feel what they felt. It was then that I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to touch other people. I wanted to connect to other people. I wanted to be in the minds and hearts of other people. And I haven't stopped wanting that.
As much as I am alone because of the work I do I was still alone when I was teaching and working in other professions. Alone is a state of mind not a physical act of being. I can be so self-absorbed in a crowded room that I can't hear anything, but my own thoughts. I can be so filled with guilt, insecurity and fear during a conversation that I don’t hear what is being said. Being and feeling alone is a choice. Having my head filled with self is a choice. It is not a knee reaction type of choice; it is an “I must make my mind up to not do it” type of choice.
Every feeling I have is a choice. I choose to feel hurt, I choose to feel guilty, I choose to be afraid, I choose the people I surround myself with and that choice influences how I choose to feel.
My first magazine article query that was accepted I blew because I thought that in order to write as prolifically as Hemingway or Fitzgerald (Fitzgerald being my idol) I needed a glass of whiskey in my hand. I idealized the writers who could drink excessively and still produce writing that afforded them a living. The idea was accepted, but I wasn’t able to write it with a drink in my hand.
This was a defining moment in my life. A missed opportunity that changed the course of my life—I was 24 years old. I still have the hand written invitation from the editor to continue to develop my ideas into a publishable article. Rarely does a writer get a hand written letter from an editor. I’m crying as I write this because I know what a missed opportunity that was. My chest is tight and my fingers have gone numb thinking about the naïve thought that a drink would make me better than. From there the rest is history.
So if this blog is about the solution what do I do to make amends to myself and relive that defining moment. I can’t redo it, decades have passed and life moves forward not backwards. I don’t think you can relive a moment like that because that would be like a redo and I just said that life moves forward not backwards. What I can do to be in the solution today is to develop another idea, write another query and send it out to editors and see if I can do it right this time.
It’s not that I haven’t had other things published, but it’s that I have never had anything of that caliber published.
When I couldn’t write the article with a drink in my hand I needed the drink in my hand because I couldn’t write the article.
And so my friends that is the story of how at 47 years old I am trying to start my life over. No one has kicked me harder than I’ve kicked myself for the poor choices I have made. The solution today is being around people that don’t help me kick myself. I no longer need to be called names and told everything that is wrong with me even though that is very, very comfortable because I know how to hurt and to feel like a failure.
I am choosing to be around people who point me in the right direction and push me to move forward when I don’t believe I have anything to worthy to say. I choose to be around people who tell me about the good they see in me and can keep telling me until I see it in myself. By not being around people who are self-absorbed I become less self-absorbed. There are those of you who know you help me and those of you who know you hurt me. To both types of people in my life…..thank you….you both have given me something to write about today.
Time to go make a living….have a good day everyone….
Well--another week of snow and you would think I would be excited to sit at home and work, but everything in me wants to run and be around people and not be isolated. I earned very little money last week and so I have to get over myself and get back to work.
After I did the blog last night I was thinking about the first time I realized I wanted to be a writer. I was in elementary school. My teacher's name was Barbara Hartle. I always wanted to be like her so I became a teacher. We were in class one day and Mrs. Hartle was reading to us aloud for an hour before lunch like she did every day. I don't remember the story and I don’t know why that day it all clicked in for me, but what I do remember is staring out the window and being able to see and feel everything she was reading. It amazed me that my mind could connect to the writer of the story and I could see what they saw and feel what they felt. It was then that I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to touch other people. I wanted to connect to other people. I wanted to be in the minds and hearts of other people. And I haven't stopped wanting that.
As much as I am alone because of the work I do I was still alone when I was teaching and working in other professions. Alone is a state of mind not a physical act of being. I can be so self-absorbed in a crowded room that I can't hear anything, but my own thoughts. I can be so filled with guilt, insecurity and fear during a conversation that I don’t hear what is being said. Being and feeling alone is a choice. Having my head filled with self is a choice. It is not a knee reaction type of choice; it is an “I must make my mind up to not do it” type of choice.
Every feeling I have is a choice. I choose to feel hurt, I choose to feel guilty, I choose to be afraid, I choose the people I surround myself with and that choice influences how I choose to feel.
My first magazine article query that was accepted I blew because I thought that in order to write as prolifically as Hemingway or Fitzgerald (Fitzgerald being my idol) I needed a glass of whiskey in my hand. I idealized the writers who could drink excessively and still produce writing that afforded them a living. The idea was accepted, but I wasn’t able to write it with a drink in my hand.
This was a defining moment in my life. A missed opportunity that changed the course of my life—I was 24 years old. I still have the hand written invitation from the editor to continue to develop my ideas into a publishable article. Rarely does a writer get a hand written letter from an editor. I’m crying as I write this because I know what a missed opportunity that was. My chest is tight and my fingers have gone numb thinking about the naïve thought that a drink would make me better than. From there the rest is history.
So if this blog is about the solution what do I do to make amends to myself and relive that defining moment. I can’t redo it, decades have passed and life moves forward not backwards. I don’t think you can relive a moment like that because that would be like a redo and I just said that life moves forward not backwards. What I can do to be in the solution today is to develop another idea, write another query and send it out to editors and see if I can do it right this time.
It’s not that I haven’t had other things published, but it’s that I have never had anything of that caliber published.
When I couldn’t write the article with a drink in my hand I needed the drink in my hand because I couldn’t write the article.
And so my friends that is the story of how at 47 years old I am trying to start my life over. No one has kicked me harder than I’ve kicked myself for the poor choices I have made. The solution today is being around people that don’t help me kick myself. I no longer need to be called names and told everything that is wrong with me even though that is very, very comfortable because I know how to hurt and to feel like a failure.
I am choosing to be around people who point me in the right direction and push me to move forward when I don’t believe I have anything to worthy to say. I choose to be around people who tell me about the good they see in me and can keep telling me until I see it in myself. By not being around people who are self-absorbed I become less self-absorbed. There are those of you who know you help me and those of you who know you hurt me. To both types of people in my life…..thank you….you both have given me something to write about today.
Time to go make a living….have a good day everyone….
No comments:
Post a Comment