The more I write in this blog, the more I am in awe of authors. People who write books and stories and plays and movies and poems. Characters, scenes, backstories, dialogue...where does it all come from? Whether it's a weekly opinion column or "The Lord of the Rings" trilogy, it's a lot of ideas and words. I can hold my own in the 140-character world of Twitter, but hundreds or thousands of pages? If I compare myself, I feel like Wayne and Garth: not worthy (and like the typo I just corrected, not very wordy, either).
But then again, I never claimed to be Agatha Christie or Arianna Huffington or Dave Barry. I'm just me, throwing a few sentences together when something hits me. And I'm doing it without a net. I have no illusions of writing fame, and certainly none of fortune. But the fact that I'm putting some thoughts "out there" is--for now, anyway--success enough for me.
For the record, the idea for this post just came to me within the last hour. No notes, no rough draft and revisions. I surprised myself with my own spontaneity! And...time to hit Publish Post.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Expanding My Comfort Zone
One of my best friends sent a mock news story to a few of us yesterday. It told of how many people die each year when they step outside their comfort zones. Hmm...methinks my girlfriend knows that feeling, and knows that some of us, too, feel a wee bit of trepidation at taking those few steps outside of "the way it's always been." I've never done that before. What if I'm not any good?
Luckily, as friends, we have a support system. We throw out ideas to each other for things we can try. We help to bring logic to the discussion when one of us has some irrational fears. It's easy to forget your own strength; our friends are there to remind us.
I was very comfortable in my job of 11 years. Then, that job was gone. Starting a new job, when I find one, will be outside of my comfort zone. I've only had two long-term jobs since college. Going to a new office with new people and new tasks will take some adjustment. But I'm confident that I'm in a good zone now to succeed.
I've been doing a few things lately that would have definitely been outside that zone just a few years ago. The most obvious? I started this blog. I'm still finding my way, but when an idea comes to me, I write about it. And some people read it. Not so long ago I would have trembled at the thought and not typed a word. But with a little encouragement, and that rational perspective from girlfriends, I just jumped right in. I've even tried a few poems. It keeps me connected to my creativity. And the more I do it, the more writing settles into my comfort zone.
Just this evening, I took some more steps outside my zone...literally. I walked up to the store to pick up something for supper. In the past, if I had found myself without a car I would likely have had peanut butter or whatever else I could dig out of the cupboards. But I felt like something else. (Now, don't judge me for picking up a microwave meal with a side salad from the deli. I didn't say I went to get something to cook for supper.) I've never been much of a "walker." It's not that far away, but I don't know if I would have even tried to walk to the store last summer. But it was still light outside, it's a decent neighborhood, and I've been walking every day (almost) for the last few months. Instead of assuming that I couldn't do it because I hadn't done it before, I assumed that it would be no big deal. And as for my walking routine, I've increased my distance, and am working on upping my pace. I'm a far cry from an athlete, but I keep going because I know that I can do it.
I'm broadening my comfort zone and becoming a better broad because of it. People don't die just from trying something different. What's the worst than can happen?
Have you stepped outside your zone and found that the usual routine you were accustomed to wasn't all you thought it was cracked up to be?
Luckily, as friends, we have a support system. We throw out ideas to each other for things we can try. We help to bring logic to the discussion when one of us has some irrational fears. It's easy to forget your own strength; our friends are there to remind us.
I was very comfortable in my job of 11 years. Then, that job was gone. Starting a new job, when I find one, will be outside of my comfort zone. I've only had two long-term jobs since college. Going to a new office with new people and new tasks will take some adjustment. But I'm confident that I'm in a good zone now to succeed.
I've been doing a few things lately that would have definitely been outside that zone just a few years ago. The most obvious? I started this blog. I'm still finding my way, but when an idea comes to me, I write about it. And some people read it. Not so long ago I would have trembled at the thought and not typed a word. But with a little encouragement, and that rational perspective from girlfriends, I just jumped right in. I've even tried a few poems. It keeps me connected to my creativity. And the more I do it, the more writing settles into my comfort zone.
Just this evening, I took some more steps outside my zone...literally. I walked up to the store to pick up something for supper. In the past, if I had found myself without a car I would likely have had peanut butter or whatever else I could dig out of the cupboards. But I felt like something else. (Now, don't judge me for picking up a microwave meal with a side salad from the deli. I didn't say I went to get something to cook for supper.) I've never been much of a "walker." It's not that far away, but I don't know if I would have even tried to walk to the store last summer. But it was still light outside, it's a decent neighborhood, and I've been walking every day (almost) for the last few months. Instead of assuming that I couldn't do it because I hadn't done it before, I assumed that it would be no big deal. And as for my walking routine, I've increased my distance, and am working on upping my pace. I'm a far cry from an athlete, but I keep going because I know that I can do it.
I'm broadening my comfort zone and becoming a better broad because of it. People don't die just from trying something different. What's the worst than can happen?
Have you stepped outside your zone and found that the usual routine you were accustomed to wasn't all you thought it was cracked up to be?
Sunday, August 22, 2010
What is a Word? (poetry)
A word is letters
and sounds.
Thought given form.
Words that mean love for me
can mean hatred for you.
A word can soothe a soul
or pierce a heart.
Put a dream into words
and hope it comes true.
Put a curse into words
and wish you could rewind.
A word cannot take life,
but to words you can give life.
Words are alive.
And with them,
so am I.
and sounds.
Thought given form.
Words that mean love for me
can mean hatred for you.
A word can soothe a soul
or pierce a heart.
Put a dream into words
and hope it comes true.
Put a curse into words
and wish you could rewind.
A word cannot take life,
but to words you can give life.
Words are alive.
And with them,
so am I.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Is it the Right Stuff?
Boy, have I got "stuff"!
I seem to remember a George Carlin routine about stuff. How we like to collect stuff and sometimes need to move into bigger houses to hold more of our stuff. I can totally relate to that.
I was at my parents' house for a few days. Yes, even at my age.I still have a few items there. (Don't make me define "few.") There are some Spanish literature books from college, my solo/ensemble medals from high school, postcards and such from childhood vacations. You'd think that with my fondness to take a red pen to the written word I'd also have no trouble deleting some accumulated stuff. But alas, that's not the case. I must insist that it's not entirely a flaw in my character. Looking around my parents' basement and cottage, I am convinced that it's in my "genes." (My sister should catch why that's a bit of a play on words.) We seem to be a family of savers. "Don't throw that out. I might need that some day!" "Oh, I remember when I got that (insert miscellaneous item here)!"
Luckily, my sister seems to have broken the cycle. She keeps the good stuff, but she is better able to determine the difference between memento and junk. With her help, I'm getting better at seeing that getting rid of the princess mirror, brush, and comb set won't mean that I'll forget what it felt like to be a little girl. That bowl that Mother put our baby food in is neat, but I don't remember using it. I don't have lots of shelf space for nostalgic items. It's best to sell/give/donate it and let it become someone else's treasure.
I've already identified the boxes my sister and I will investigate next time we're at my folks' house together. I think I'll be ready to get rid of some books (since I could no longer read Spanish), I can pare down decades-old souvenirs, and I'll bring my medals back to my house. I don't know if all of my stuff is right, but there's certainly some comfort in knowing it's mine.
I seem to remember a George Carlin routine about stuff. How we like to collect stuff and sometimes need to move into bigger houses to hold more of our stuff. I can totally relate to that.
I was at my parents' house for a few days. Yes, even at my age.I still have a few items there. (Don't make me define "few.") There are some Spanish literature books from college, my solo/ensemble medals from high school, postcards and such from childhood vacations. You'd think that with my fondness to take a red pen to the written word I'd also have no trouble deleting some accumulated stuff. But alas, that's not the case. I must insist that it's not entirely a flaw in my character. Looking around my parents' basement and cottage, I am convinced that it's in my "genes." (My sister should catch why that's a bit of a play on words.) We seem to be a family of savers. "Don't throw that out. I might need that some day!" "Oh, I remember when I got that (insert miscellaneous item here)!"
Luckily, my sister seems to have broken the cycle. She keeps the good stuff, but she is better able to determine the difference between memento and junk. With her help, I'm getting better at seeing that getting rid of the princess mirror, brush, and comb set won't mean that I'll forget what it felt like to be a little girl. That bowl that Mother put our baby food in is neat, but I don't remember using it. I don't have lots of shelf space for nostalgic items. It's best to sell/give/donate it and let it become someone else's treasure.
I've already identified the boxes my sister and I will investigate next time we're at my folks' house together. I think I'll be ready to get rid of some books (since I could no longer read Spanish), I can pare down decades-old souvenirs, and I'll bring my medals back to my house. I don't know if all of my stuff is right, but there's certainly some comfort in knowing it's mine.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
What You Want
"They" say that you can't always get what you want. Ain't that the truth! But you will almost never get what you want if you don't ask for it.
Knowing that you need to ask is only one step. First, you need to know what it is that you want. Could be something as simple as a dinner choice or a birthday gift. But there are the big wants, too, like what you want out of life. And of course, everything in between. The little things I want change from day to day, sometimes hour to hour. And my big goals in life have changed numerous times since I was a child. Sure, I still want the generic "happiness." It's how to define happiness that seems to be the question. That's a personal journey that everyone needs to take for themself.
So let's say you know what you want. And you know you have to ask for it. The next questions is whom to ask. (I think "whom" is correct. Forgive me if not.) When you're a child, you ask your parents for what you want. As you get older you ask your friends, your spouse, your boss, God. I'm learning that I probably need to ask myself for a lot of things, too. If I want something, I need to make it happen. Other folks can help, but I must take responsibility for my own happiness.
I think the hardest thing has been giving myself permission to ask. Perhaps it's a "woman" thing, or perhaps it's just me. But we're so used to giving to other people, and so hope that those closest to us already magically know what we want. But you know what? It's OK to ask. It doesn't make you weak. It doesn't make you selfish. If anything, it shows you're not afraid to open up to people around you. It shows that you understand yourself well enough to know what you want. I've found that my circle of girlfriends is great for this. Number one, I don't have to be afraid to ask them anything! And I know they'll tell me their honest opinion (even if sometimes it's brutally honest, bordering on evil.) And by talking it through, we can more easily identify what we want and from whom.
I still don't know what I want as a career. I do know that I want to blog, but I'm still trying to figure out in which direction to take it. So I ask you this...I'm ready to hear feedback. Thanks to those of you who've already obliged. But if you're just randomly stopping by, I'll take some comments, even anonymously. Or you can e-mail me from my profile page. Feel free to share!
Knowing that you need to ask is only one step. First, you need to know what it is that you want. Could be something as simple as a dinner choice or a birthday gift. But there are the big wants, too, like what you want out of life. And of course, everything in between. The little things I want change from day to day, sometimes hour to hour. And my big goals in life have changed numerous times since I was a child. Sure, I still want the generic "happiness." It's how to define happiness that seems to be the question. That's a personal journey that everyone needs to take for themself.
So let's say you know what you want. And you know you have to ask for it. The next questions is whom to ask. (I think "whom" is correct. Forgive me if not.) When you're a child, you ask your parents for what you want. As you get older you ask your friends, your spouse, your boss, God. I'm learning that I probably need to ask myself for a lot of things, too. If I want something, I need to make it happen. Other folks can help, but I must take responsibility for my own happiness.
I think the hardest thing has been giving myself permission to ask. Perhaps it's a "woman" thing, or perhaps it's just me. But we're so used to giving to other people, and so hope that those closest to us already magically know what we want. But you know what? It's OK to ask. It doesn't make you weak. It doesn't make you selfish. If anything, it shows you're not afraid to open up to people around you. It shows that you understand yourself well enough to know what you want. I've found that my circle of girlfriends is great for this. Number one, I don't have to be afraid to ask them anything! And I know they'll tell me their honest opinion (even if sometimes it's brutally honest, bordering on evil.) And by talking it through, we can more easily identify what we want and from whom.
I still don't know what I want as a career. I do know that I want to blog, but I'm still trying to figure out in which direction to take it. So I ask you this...I'm ready to hear feedback. Thanks to those of you who've already obliged. But if you're just randomly stopping by, I'll take some comments, even anonymously. Or you can e-mail me from my profile page. Feel free to share!
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