Waiting for Spring

After weeks of dipping below zero, way below zero, it's 31 today and feels like summer. The sun is shining, the icy gray snow banks are beginning to melt, and I'm feeling like something should be loosening inside of me.

This winter has been rough -- rough on my skin, which seems to be chapped and flaking off in patches, rough on my creative life, since I don't feel like I have any creative projects really going. When it remains that cold for that long, I feel like I just shut down and retreat into a pseudo-hibernation. My thoughts skim the surface of eat-sleep-work-TV-repeat, without delving any deeper. While some people might be forced to a kind of self-reflection in winter, I simply harden and go into survival mode. I try to imagine what it was like to live here, before central heating, electricity, and the comfort of the metropolis. I wouldn't have been able to make it.

I'm hoping that this small glimpse of sunshine will help recharge my batteries a bit. I may even walk around one of my neighborhood lakes tomorrow, if it remains this warm. The sad thing is that I know it's only the end of February and we still have one more month (at least) to go.

So that I don't sound too much like Debbie Downer (meow, meow -- for those of you who have seen the sketch), here is a list of the small joys I've had in the last couple of weeks...


Season One of How I Met Your Mother -- Predictable, but hilarious
Season Two of Big Love -- Did I mention that I was watching TV)
My grudging enjoyment of Eat, Pray, Love
Going to my alma mater for graduate readings -- although they do make me feel like a slacker. There were many brilliant writers there including, Michele Campbell, Beth Mayer, and James Henderson, to name a few.
Kimya Dawson's Remember That I Love You
Seeing the orange sunrise in the gray sky in the morning
This article in last week's Onion -- I think it was written about my cats
Facebook's Texas Hold 'Em -- I suck, but I love it
The roasted garlic/crusty bread/cheese we're going to have with board games tonight (and the beer)
My impending trip to Tennessee next weekend -- please let it be over 40 degrees
Being able to sign up for cell phones with Credo when I return


Okay, I'm starting to feel like I can handle four or five more weeks of winter. I think.

Poet is a Verb: Prioritize

Lately, I haven't been writing as much poetry as I would like. I understand that this is a temporary situation. Since I've been paying closer attention to my writing habits, I've noticed that my writing output seems to ebb and flow. There are times when I'm "on" and I write up a storm, 2-3 poems a week. And then there are times when I stumble along, writing little to nothing. I can't predict when these happen, other than to say that one tends to follow the other.

I've learned that I just need to relax into the writing slump, and trust that the writing will return. So, instead of writing, I've been doing other things, including reading, writing articles, and volunteering my time. (Besides working my job, naturally.) One of the many books I'm reading now is CrazyBusy by Ned Hallowell. Dr. Hallowell is a leading researcher on Attention Deficit Disorder and this book follows the trend of multitasking and spreading yourself too thin as the new social norm. It's very enjoyable and easy to read and I find myself in some of his descriptions. Okay, lots of his descriptions.

Here's one that particularly hit home for me:

"If being busier than I'd like to be is the price I have to pay, most of us seem to say, then so be it. After all, modern life is worth it. Life's never been this exciting.

But if we're not careful, we'll get so busy that we forget to take the time to think and feel. We won't have the extended periods of time required to complete a thought, develop a conversation, or reflect upon a complex set of emotions."

This passage reminded me of W.S. Merwin's quote about poetry that I posted last week. Perhaps, rather than filling my time with other activities when I'm not writing, I should be slowing down. Perhaps my slightly addictive multitasking is drawing energy away from writing.

Hallowell suggests prioritizing as a way to slow down. His argument is that you can only give your energy and attention to so many spheres of your life. After a certain threshold (and everyone's threshold is different), you become less effective. He says that you should know where your energy is going, rather than rushing around and spending it without thinking.

When I think about my priorities, I know that my energy tends to go to my lower, yet more insistent, priorities while my true priorities get ignored. I'm getting much better at this, but it is challenging to realign my actions with my intentions. If I had to prioritize my life right now, I would say that my top priorities are:

1) Marriage
2) Writing Pursuits (includes poetry, blogging, articles,in that order)
3) Work
4) Friendships
5) Volunteering
6) Other Creative Pursuits (includes reading, photography, and art making, in that order)

I am happy to say that my work is no longer #1 and I don't behave like it is. (Whew! Hooray for less stressful jobs.) Listing my priorities in this way, I'm not exactly sure what takes up my time. I watch a little too much TV, I spend a lot of time online, not blogging, but Facebook-ing and such. But I'm honestly not sure where it all goes. (Bad sign.) Notice TV isn't even on there!

This week, I'd like to spend my time closer to how my priorities are listed. While I believe I do a better job than I did a year ago, I certainly think I can do better. I am going to commit myself to a week of slowing down, and realigning my energies. I'm declaring this week, for me, Slow Down Week. I will try to spend my time working on my top priorities, rather than on the "other stuff" that seems to be rushing in.

What I've Been Up To: A Pictoral Guide

Visiting my in-laws in Nebraska (2 days of driving, 2 days of visiting)...

Eating Holiday Goodies...

Finishing the Third Season of Lost and theorizing...

Hibernating...

I'm hoping to find some writing time, in between all of this and work, too.

Wasting Time #4 -- Guilty Pleasures

Warning! This has nothing to do with poetry writing or anything deep. I'm trying to be okay with that. But, if I can't handle frivolity on Day 6 of NaBloPoMo, this is going to be a long month.

As I sit on my couch, watching the end of Beauty and the Geek while waiting for Reaper to start, I realize that I have a lot of guilty pleasures. There are a lot of things I consume, pop culture mostly, which make me feel slightly greasy later. They have no intellectual value whatsoever, but they are fun. They are the intellectual equivalent of marshmallow fluff. And yet, I always come back for more.

So here's my Top Five Guilty Pleasures... although I reserve the right to alter this list when I find something better.

1)Nerdy TV
This year has been declared the Year of the Beta Male by many news outlets, what with the introduction of all the new movies and TV shows dedicated to geeky guys and their interests. But what about us geeky girls? We like junk like Heroestoo! Most of the TV Shows in my DVD collection represent the canon of Dorky TV. I could teach the master's class -- Simpsons, Powerpuff Girls, Buffy, Lost, and X-Files. In fact, I did use Simpsons clips while teaching literature and Buffy clips when teaching Speech. Those were the days...

2) Perez Hilton

I am embarrassed to admit this, but I really like Perez Hilton's site. I know I’m going to Hell, in the circle that’s reserved for people who park in handicap spots or who read gossip magazines. However, he’s really funny! I know that’s not an excuse, but honestly, when I have a bad day at work, I can relax to pictures of Britney “Unfitney” Spears wobbling out of a club with a doodled booger hanging out of her nose.

3) Seeing Movies in the Theater

My husband and I see one movie every weekend. Then, we rent movies on DVD… you know, for the ones we missed. Even though I love movies in all forms, I prefer theater movies. Despite ludicrous ticket prices, obnoxious fellow patrons, and my ridiculously small bladder, I love the experience. Nothing can match sitting in the dark, eating Milk Duds or Whoppers, and getting swallowed by a movie. Some of the embarrassing movies I’ve seen in the theater: Transporter, Billy Madison, The One, Serendipity, Pay It Forward, and most recently the appalling Shoot ‘Em Up. (Why Clive, why?) Seriously, I’ll watch almost anything in the movie theater.

4) Smelly Candles

While in graduate school, I worked at my local Pier 1. I originally got the job based on my familiarity and enthusiasm for their candles. Once I got the job, I loaded up on clearance candles every chance that I got. You know that sickly smell when you enter a Pier 1, where every candle smell mingles into one floral-earthy-vanilla haze? I achieved that in our apartment. After that, my husband kindly asked me to downsize and I’ve slowly pared down my collection. Besides, they don’t make Carmel Butter anymore, which is my all time favorite.

5) Used Bookstores

So this one may have some intellectual value. But not much. When my husband and I lived in Illinois, our favorite weekend involved either going to a flea market or taking a tour of our favorite used bookstores. Now that we live in Minnesota, we still search out the vintage and used stores, but mostly to get specific books, not to browse. There’s something that’s pretty magical about finding out of print books or books I’ve forgotten I’ve wanted while wandering the aisles. I even like the musty-dusty smell of used bookstores. Whenever I make a pile of books to take to one of our local stores, I always feel a little melancholy for them. But, I quickly forget about them when I find new ones to take home.

There are my guilty pleasures…out there for the world to see. But I shouldn’t have to do this alone. So, what are your guilty pleasures?

Wasting Time #3 -- Not Sleeping

Sometimes, when you're a writer who has to work every day, everything that you do seems to take away from writing time. Bathing for too long, for instance, becomes an impediment to writing. Naps or your regular sleep time prohibits the creative process.

Unfortunately, at least where sleep is concerned, I react in the opposite way. If I do not sleep regularly, I cannot write well. And I rarely sleep regularly. I know that my sleep habits are partially connected to stress, but also partially just habits. For instance, I woke up this morning a little before five, even though I know I can sleep in until almost seven, because my cat always wakes me up around this time. I couldn't go back to sleep, because I was thinking about work and the 4 classes I need to hire for in 3 weeks.

How does this affect my writing? Well, when I don't sleep my full 8 (or 6 or 4), I get cranky and I can't focus on anything too long. My inspiration literally dries up, because I am so focused on just getting through the day. When I come home, the last thing I feel like doing is writing, because I would much rather sleep. A lot.

My erratic sleep patterns used to be much worse. They are getting better and evolving, as I learn to deal with stress better. However, I am still working on making my sleep patterns much less about survival sleep and much more about dreaming and being able to create the next day.

Wasting Time #2 -- Blurred Boundaries

Over the Christmas season, I was able to take some much needed vacation from my job. I took ten whole days off. Then, last week, we had a short week plus faculty development, which was more fun than work. I spent those couple of weeks reading and writing a lot, more than I had in a long time. I was cocooning myself in my living room, bundled up in blankets and cuddling with my kitties, and spending time doing what I love.

Today, I had my first "real" day of work of the new year. I thought it might be difficult to plunge right back into the frenetic pace, but instead it felt like I hadn't missed a beat at all. I was back to my 15 minute lunch break, mad dashes around the building lifestyle. There were times when I forgot to go the bathroom.

I have been thinking tonight about how easy it is for me to do that-- sacrifice break times and down times and let work consume me. Even when I got home today, I didn't feel like writing; I felt like working or worrying about work. I realized that the healthy barrier I constructed around myself over the break is being slowly etched away by my daily work activities. Or more realistically, I am stretching my own boundaries while working.

I've called this a time waster because, even though I am efficient and sufficient at my job, I am preventing myself from doing what I really love, my writing. I have to constantly remind myself that I am paid for 40 hours a week, not 400. I wish I could turn my work on and off, like a light switch, but I am still sorting that out for myself.

I think that other people (those magical other people whose houses are clean and lives are orderly) have this part figured out. They can work their jobs, come home, put their jobs away, and focus on their real lives. I wonder how they manage to do that at all. While I try to figure it out, I'll just focus on repairing those boundaries, between my work and my real life, after stretching them much too thin.

Wasting Time -- One in a Series

I've been thinking about all the things that suck my time, steal it away in little five-ten minute bursts. I like to think of them as little bandits that rob me of my writing time. It starts out, most of the time, as little increments. Five minutes here, ten minutes there. Then, there are those sneaky thieves that steal larger amounts -- an hour or two. Before I know it, I haven't written all week. I'm left with nothing truly tangible to show for my week.

I originally was going to write about some of my fun & common time waster, but the one that struck me today was stress. Stress is probably the biggest reason for wasting time I have in my creative life. Stress is my most typical excuse for not writing, and my most typical excuse for my more destructive habits. It is as if having a moderately stressful and responsibility laden job absolves me of any creative effort. I can just lounge away my evenings and weekends, in my PJs, all thanks to stress.

I have two or three concurrent stress patterns. My typical stress thinking goes something like this: Man, I have had a stressful day. I don't feel like writing/I can't write. Or it could go something closer to: Man, what a stressful day, I deserve time off. (Deserve is a typical stress word for me. I don't deserve this stress, but I do deserve this 3 hour television watching spree.) Often times, these stress thinking patterns intersect, giving me the double dose of I don't feel like writing and I deserve time off.

Stress is a hungry time waster. While it can take the little bursts of time, it most often results in a lost evening or weekend. I drift in a semi-comatose state, seeking only pleasure and relief while creating absolutely nothing.

The kicker of it is, of course, that my biggest stress reliever is writing. For many artists, this is the case. Writing/Art is the one release we have from the stresses of daily life. Through our art, we can have the flow experience, that moment where we lose ourselves within the act of creation. What can be better than that?

So how do we, how do I, break this cycle of stress & not creating? Easy answer: create new cycles of stress & creation. This is something that I have struggled to include in my writing practice. Sometimes, like today, it is successful. Other times, it isn't. But I can only work to connect pleasure and stress relief with my creation, through practice, rather than tying it to that other obligation that only exists to stress me out.