Writing and meditation don't mix

November is always a crazy month for me. Each year I participate in National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) with the goal of completing a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. Some years I make it, some years I don't but I always participate. The only difference this year is that I jumped in wholly unprepared. No outlines, no character sketches, no research, no prep work. Just jumped. So far it's...going. I'm struggling a little bit because I have little clips of scenes and absolutely no plot tying them together in the least. But that's okay. I'm sure that at some point everything will fall into place and a brilliant novel will emerge. HA! It's far more likely that complete crap emerges and it falls into the garbage can never to see the light of day again. At this point, I've made peace with either outcome.

On the 2nd I started a 21-day meditation challenge by Oprah & Deepak Chopra. Starting a meditation challenge at the same time I am trying to furiously write a novel may not have been the best idea. But we all know that I am not known for my fantastic decision making skills. It's only been a couple of days so I don't have much to report other than I suck at meditating and being still. I'm still waiting for the point when everything quiets and my life is suddenly zen. The cynic in me is yelling that I will never reach this point. Normally I yell back, but right now I am too busy meditating. Perhaps this is working after all...

None the less, I am fully engrossed with these two challenges over the next few weeks and will be sure to share my findings with you, boring though they may be. Hey, I never promised you quality material here. Sarcasm and inappropriate humor are much more my style. It's not too late to join me for either challenge if you're interested...the more the merrier!

Have a great week.

One space...or two?

I would like to give a shout out to my sweet friend Christen (Mississippi for those familiar) for messing with my head before double digits this morning.  Everyone who knows me at all knows that unless it is vital that we speak immediately, it can wait until after 10:00.  Try as I might, I can't get the tiny human to understand that 6:30 is not an acceptable time to wake mommy up.

This morning, she asks me if I put one space or two at the end of my sentences.  Two.  NOPE, she says.  Just like that.  And you know what, she's not wrong.  To be fair, I am not either because it seems that this is just like the color-of-the-dress drama where both sides are vehement and no one can agree.  I am more distressed at the fact that I have missed this debate completely somehow.  I am not up on a lot, but I usually am ahead of the game when it comes to spelling, grammar, and all things nerdy.

Immediately, I turned to my most trusted source, Google, to see what the rest of the world thinks about the great space debate.  Oxford and Chicago say one is better.  MLA says that as long as it's consistent, it is arbitrary whether you use one or two.  All day, I have been trying to type with only one space but I can't seem to make my fingers match.  Too many years of typing has my thumb in the habit of hitting the space bar twice at the conclusion of my sentences.

Am I the only one that learned to type this way?  I'd love to hear what your thoughts are about it...really, I do want to know.  Which I believe just goes to show how exciting my life really is these days.

Procrastination...or lies I tell myself

Ah procrastination.  You are a friend of mine.

You so sweetly remind me that there is no need to rush to the dishes when my toenails so clearly need to be painted.

It just makes no sense to do the laundry until the dresser drawers have been reorganized.  And the closet has been purged to make room for the clothes I'm going to buy  that will be clean and ready to put away.

I can't get up when the clock says 5:08 because I only get up on the quarter hour.  I'll just close my eyes until 5:15.  Whoops, now it's 5:17,  Guess I'll just have to wait until 5:30.

Friends really don't stay in touch enough these days.  You should definitely sit down to send some e-mails before you start dinner.  While the computer is out and fired up you might as well go ahead and order those new wedges for summer.  The sale might end if you wait too long and that's just not fiscally responsible.

Hop on Twitter.  You'll only be on for a second.

Walking to the mailbox totally counts as your exercise for today.  You don't have to break a sweat for it to be effective.

Taking a nap is absolutely necessary.  Don't the doctors keep saying how important sleep is for your health?  Better yet, have a glass of wine before you lay down.  Between that and the walk you're practically a new person.

Reading a new book is exactly the same as sitting down to work on yours.

As is writing a new blog post.  Especially if it's about procrastination.  Because everyone reading needs a reason to procrastinate themselves.

You're welcome fellow procrastinators.

The Secret of a Happy Relationship

Earlier today a couple of friends suggested that I write a book about my relationship with N.  For a split second it rolled around in my brain because, how much fun would that be, but then I came back down to planet earth and laughed.  I do love to write and I do love my life, but it seems like an awfully cocky thing to tell the world we have it so right that everyone should follow our lead.  Of course there are plenty of people out there who have written about how to have happy relationships who have done just that - and I have read them all.  Some have had good advice, some have made me roll my eyes, and some have been so terrible that I couldn't even finish them.  Who am I to tell the world that we hold all the secrets to lifelong bliss and are willing to share them for the low, low price of $24.95?

Truthfully though, we do get it right most of the time.  Oh, I am sure that a million people would disagree with me since we are not a typical heterosexual couple, barring us from any sort of credit.  But I can say with certainty that it is the healthiest relationship I have ever been in.  I wake up most days and can't believe that this life around me actually belongs to me.  On our worst days, we are kinder and better to one another than nearly all of the people I know.  We are not saints by any means, but we strive to embody the 1 Corinthians definition of love on a daily basis.  We meet each other where we can and offer our hearts fully, without reservation, knowing that what we give is a fraction of the blessings bestowed upon us.  It is the kind of love that transforms me in a way that I didn't know was possible.  Even as I sit here, a smile is playing across my lips.  I just can't help but talk about how wonderful it is.  Maybe I should write something after all...

So what do you think?  Would the handful of readers that I actually have be interested in a book?

Love Letters: How we co-labor

Every month I read the love letters that Amber and Seth write back and forth to each other and every month I write my own with the same topic.  While I have yet to come up with the courage to actually post mine here, I love that they encourage me to look at different aspects of my relationship and appreciate all of the goodness that it holds.  This month the theme was, "How we co-labor" and you can read their versions here and here.  While I am still not brave enough to post the letter here in it's entirety, I wanted to share some of my thoughts.

When I read the words "co-labor" the first image that popped into my head was of my favorite childhood game: the three-legged race.  I was never particularly athletic or coordinated with regards to organized sports.  My batting average would be .005, if that, should anyone have actually kept track of it.  I couldn't hit a basket from 3 feet away and lost every game of 'HORSE' I ever played.  But the three-legged race?  That I could do.

Many thought that the secret was to choose a partner who was the same height as you, who would then run at approximately the same speed as you, making it easier to stay in sync.

They were wrong.

The secret wasn't picking the perfect partner; the secret was figuring out how to run the race with the partner that you picked.  You stand side by side facing the finish line, arms wrapped tightly around each others waist, so that you can feel the other person's movements.  You can't run in sync if you don't know how your partner is running.  The basics are discussed, a general strategy is mapped out and then the race is starting.  You begin to run, slowly at first and then picking up speed as you both find your rhythm, moving together as one body.  Your partner begins to run a little faster than you are able; you make a gentle tug on their waist, as if to say, "wait for me."  She shortens her stride to match yours and both heels pound the pavement in perfect time again.  She doesn't mind slowing a bit if it keeps you running as one.  She knows sprinting ahead without staying well-connected leads to stumbling and if not gotten under control, leads to full-blown crashes with bloody skinned knees and tangled limbs.

It doesn't matter if it isn't the same way the couple next to you runs.  Staring at them means you're not paying attention to your own partner, the one whom you chose and are bound to.  What works for the two of you might not work for another couple.

We work together the same way we run.

She speeds up to match my longer strides, as she tugs on my hand to slow me down.  I chop onions because she hates smelling them raw; she makes the rice because while I can make dark chocolate buttercream from scratch, I can't master rice and you can't have chicken and rice without the rice.  She bathes the baby so I can finish writing.  I wake up on Saturday morning with the same baby so she can sleep longer.  She can't stop compulsively cleaning and I put whatever I don't want moved in my purse because I learned that is the only thing she doesn't organize.  (I can barely carry it, but I know where everything is when I need it now).  We sacrifice self for the beauty of what we're creating together.  We recognize the sacrifice and are deeply grateful.  We run the race side by side, for the sheer love of it, thrilled simply to be running it together.   

National Novel Writing Month

National Novel Writing Month is something I participate in every year.  It is a crazy, masochistic challenge intended to make you question your sanity for the first 27 days of the month until inspiration finally hits and you race towards the finish line, attempting to beat the clock.  And then it's over; if you managed to succeed in hitting the 50,000 word goal, an elation like you have never felt settles over you, seconds before sheer exhaustion.

The idea for this years book was actually something born out of a couple of cocktails and a great conversation with one of my very best friends.  Amazing how that booze will just let loose a torrent of ideas, isn't it???  None the less, throughout the course of the evening, the seed was planted and started to take root.  Over the last couple of months, I have been a little remiss in my blogging as I began to gather material for my novel.  Some of the research was done via the Internet and books, but the majority came from people around me who were kind enough to share their stories.  I am not sure if I am more enthused or just overwhelmed, but either way I'm ready to dig in.

As the house countdown to the kick-off at midnight tonight, I thought I'd break from the sea of index cards laid out in front of me to say hello and explain why I might be a little more absent in the next 30 days or so.  Unless it is going amazingly well and I am way ahead, in which case I will be coming on to share my excitement.  I hope that all 10 of you who read this will be patient with me - I promise to return battle scarred and elated no later than December 1st.

Until then...wish me luck!

Cliffs

Once upon a time, in a very different season of my life, I wrote a post about cliffs.  Jumping off them and how painful it is when no net appears to break your fall.  Tonight as I was writing my daily words (more to come on that), I found that new perspective has woven it's way into my heart.  An excerpt from that entry is below.

Oh what a glorious feeling it is, the falling.  What a different feeling it is when there is a hand holding yours and you are jumping together and not alone.  What an amazing difference when there is no net that needs to appear because you're both tandem parachute jumping.  That is what falling in love feels like.  Jumping off a cliff together with a parachute.  The beginning is fast and furious, wind rushing, scary, hoping that the chute is going to open when you get to the right moment and pull the cord and even though you know it is definitely going to, you don't really KNOW that it is going to until you pull the cord.  And then when you finally do pull the cord, there's a jolt that knocks you back - there is a relief in that moment even though the movement is not exactly comfortable on your body - the chute opened.  You are both on the same page together.  And the rest of the way down is beautiful.  You can start breathing and relax a little and actually begin to take in the amazing scenery around you.  The majestic mountains in the distance with their snow covered peaks.  The beautiful sparkling crystal lakes and the green grassy plains joining with fields of wildflowers.  There is so much to take in and you lean into each other, silently, letting your hearts speak all the words that have not been created yet for the feelings that are flowing in those moments.  This is what cliff jumping is supposed to be.  When it's good, when it's right, this is what jumping and falling should feel like.

Take my hand darling, let's jump together...

Looking Back

I was looking for something in an archive of old writing earlier.  As I skimmed and browsed, I happened to stumble across this:

I so envy the people who know exactly what their dreams are.  Those people who know exactly who they are and what they desire out of life.  Their unshakable confidence makes me insane with jealousy.  Not because they are smarter, or prettier, or more talented, but because they are SO sure of what they want.  Even if the pathway to get there is broken, they have a destination to aim for, a direction to walk in.  I long for a moment of that kind of clarity.  Just once, I would like to feel that sure of myself instead of the crippling self-doubt that tells me every decision I am making is the wrong one.

I hope that one day I will find that girl and truly love her for all of the things that make her uniquely "her", completely and unconditionally.  Maybe one day...

I sat back in my chair aching for the girl behind these words, hardly believing that they were my own.  I was about to continue skimming when I happened to note the date that I wrote these: April 8, 2011.  Exactly two years ago today.  How on earth did I get from there to here?  I can't remember ever noticing the change.  I didn't wake up one day happy and bursting with self-confidence,  yet nothing in me identifies with the words written above. The most painful thing about self-discovery and assurance is that it is solitary.  No one can make those decisions for you; it's a road you take all by yourself.  But I wish so much that I could sit down with that girl and chat with her for a few minutes.  I so badly want to gather her up in a hug and try to ease some of the pain that she is carrying.  

Oh sweetie, it doesn't matter if you know what direction you're walking in, it matters that you keep walking.  You don't have to have a specific dream as long as you're open to new possibilities that the world might send your way.  No one has all the answers; You are not supposed to know them all.  But you must commit to seeking them with all your heart.  The more transparent and authentic you are (even if only with yourself), the more you will feel your spirit begin to sing.  Don't shut people out who love you, even if they don't know how to help, they mean well.  Lean on them when you cannot hold yourself up anymore.  I promise that it will get easier.  Hang in there.  You are better than this moment in time.    You may not know it yet, but I do.  For you see, I have been there.

Have a Little Faith

I write.  I am a writer.  When verbal words fail me, I sit and craft sentences that much more accurately portray all that I am feeling.  And yet, I sit here tonight and words are somehow failing me.  I have written and deleted and pondered and written and deleted again.  My fingers have been hovering over the keys, dancing in mid-air as if they are itching to sort out what this heart of mine is feeling. And still all that comes out on my blank screen is that somehow the words are still a jumble.

I am really and truly content with this place that I am in.  I met someone.  Well, technically we met awhile ago, but have recently reconnected.  And I can honestly say that this happiness has everything and nothing to do with her.  Yes, we are having happy moments together.  Many joyful and laughter filled moments that are nothing short of wonderful.  We are getting to know each other and it is really, really lovely. 

You see, I am the jaded sort.  Dark and twisty.  Very cynical, this heart of mine, always waiting for the other shoe to drop.  Waiting for the people I trust to betray me, which experience has told me is almost a certainty.  And here is this amazing woman who has walked into my life again and she is so real, so genuine that she is restoring my faith in humanity a little bit.   I know not why or how, I only know that it is truth.  Oh, how I want to analyze and break it down and understand.   But how do I explain the unexplainable?  From somewhere in the deep recess of my brain I hear a chuckle.  

Have a little faith, my child.  Stop, and just have a little faith.

In the hour that I've been sitting here staring at the screen, that is the first thing that makes sense.  Can I do it? Can I stop and just be?  That goes against everything I am.  How can there be clarity and awareness without seeking answers?  It is then that I am reminded of the Indigo Girls lyric, "the less I seek my source for some definitive, the closer I am to fine."  So I smile to myself as I close my laptop, no closer to any real understanding than I was when I opened it. Tonight I have everything I need.  As for the rest of the answers...I'll just have to have a little faith.