Archive for September, 2009

September 29, 2009

What’s Feeding Me Today

After a few hectic weeks at work, I feel like listing some of the things that are feeding me lately.

  1. The first brisk morning of the fall.
  2. The sun breaking across the horizon while I exercised this morning.
  3. The ridiculous bravery and teamwork exemplified by the men in Endurance: Shackleton’s Incredible Voyage, which I’m reading for school. 
  4. The bounty of fall apples, which we’ve been getting from the Farmer’s Market for the past few weeks. This week, we’re enjoying Jonathans. I haven’t sprung for Honeycrisps yet.
  5. The giddy anticipation I feel as I look forward to this weekend, when I get to see a whole slew of friends that I haven’t seen in months…or sometimes years.
  6. The prospect of making Butternut Squash Soup by myself for the first time tonight. I’m using soy milk instead of half and half, since my husband’s lactose intolerant.
  7. Finally understanding why everyone likes The White Stripes and Peaches, 10 years too late.
  8. The feeling of a new project for my writing, tingling just on the edges of everything else.

This is what’s feeding me today. What’s feeding you?

September 23, 2009

Permission Slip

I declare that I am a work in progress and I deserve to be gentle with myself. I acknowledge that I am not the same person I was at twenty, nor do I want to be. I may not be the same person tomorrow that I am today. I have the capacity, as we all do, to grow, change and evolve.

I give myself permission to determine who I am as a writer and a person, at this moment. My identity is not, and never will be, fixed. What I determine may not be true forever, but it will be authentic to the space in my life that I currently inhabit. I give myself permission to widen my definition of what it means to be a writer, even if it means stretching the boundaries of genre, theme, tone, and style. I may even alter my expectations of outcome and production, especially as I learn more about my interests and myself.

It’s okay if I would like to define myself both within and without writing. I will continue to be engaged in my paid work, even if it means that I may find it difficult to unearth creative writing time. I recognize that the energy I feel from my work is the same energy that feeds my writing and it all results in doing good work in the world. I understand that as I become more engaged in this aspect of my life that it will affect the type of writing I do. I will remind myself that all creativity feeds me, even if it challenges my preconceived notions about the separation of my writing and professional lives.

I am allowed to write about this process, to document where I am in my journey. It is human to wonder, to challenge myself, and to keep check in with myself on a regular basis. I can write about this, even if it feels messy and unfinished, because I am messy and unfinished.

My goal right now is to strive for alignment, knowing that this may never happen, and knowing that if it does, it means that everything may shift.

September 16, 2009

I’m Still Here…

…I’m just in the middle of a very intense, short week. 

Intense, because work is back in full force. Now that school is back in session, most of my days are full with tasks and meetings, and it can be difficult to balance the two needs. So, I’ve been getting in to work early, leaving late, and taking shorter breaks, so that I can squeeze in as much as possible.

Intense, because I have four committees that I help organize at work, and three of them start this week and next week.  Argh.

Intense, because I had one day off (after working Tuesday through Friday), so it feels like this endless stream of work.  Of course it doesn’t help that I caught an end-of-summer cold. I’ve only had it since Sunday, but it feels like I’m just dragging.  At this point, I want my nose to fall off.

Intense, because in the middle of all of this, I have school work to finish.  Even though classes are every other weekend, we have work due on the “off weeks.”  I had a short paper due on the first day of class and I have a mini-essay due online by Saturday.  It’s been a while since I’ve had actual homework, a couple of years at least. I’m loving every second of it, even though it feels as if my brain is going to explode.  (This week, I’m reading The Prince, for the first time since college. Now that I’m 32, I’m much better prepared to understand this text, than I was at 17.) But I find myself, at the five minutes of break I have a day, thinking about the abstract principles behind leadership.  Scary…

Short, because I take Friday off so that I can spend three days in the Roy Wilkins Auditorium for the Brawl of America. Yes, I will be screaming until my throat is even more raw than it already is to cheer on the Minnesota Rollergirls as they sweep the Women’s Flat Track Derby Association’s regional tournament. If you live in the Twin Cities and you aren’t going, you should check it out. 

Now, all I have to do is make it until tomorrow.

September 13, 2009

How to Live With Insomnia

1. Identify that you actually have insomnia.

Intermittent insomnia is a constant in my life. Ever since I was little, I would have stretches of sleeplessness.  The bouts erupt in times of stress or change and they stick around until suddenly, they don’t.  At the worst part of my insomniac’s life, at a time of deep stress, I went without more than an hour’s sleep for 7 straight days.  On the 7th day, I went to the emergency room and was told to take warm baths and relax.  I eventually found a doctor who would help me.  I found relief by creating a bedtime routine, using some sleep medication, and removing the major stresses from my life.

This morning, I don’t know if I have true insomnia yet.  I went to bed at midnight, which is late for me, after a fun night hanging out with some friends.  My cat woke me up at 4:40, which he is wont to do when he is hungry, and then I couldn’t fall asleep after I kicked him out. I found myself mentally repeating one section of lyrics from The Kinks’ “A Well-Respected Man.” I finally gave in and got out of bed at 5:45.

2. Use your non-sleeping time wisely.

When I get really bad insomnia, I get out of bed, pull out our couch and try to sleep there.  On the couch, I can leave the light on, read, watch television, cry, whatever it takes to get black to sleep. I often know that it’s time to get out of bed and move the couch when my husband’s (very) light snores prove to me that he gets to sleep, while I can’t. When I want to smack him or wake him up, I get out of bed. 

Today, I woke up and decided to accomplish things I don’t have a lot of time for, before my day really begins.  So, my goals are to do some homework (done – sort of), do my leg exercises (coming soon), and clean as much of the house as I can before my husband gets up and we have to go to the Farmer’s Market. 

3.  Identify the reasons why you aren’t sleeping. 

 I don’t know why I’m not sleeping today.  Typically, in the past, I’ve endured insomnia when I’ve had really bad stretches at work.  I wouldn’t characterize my work life as bad right now. It’s actually going very well. There’s just a lot of work to be done, which takes a lot of energy.  Sometimes, this extension of energy results in lack of sleep for me, as if I can’t turn off.

This weekend, my nontraditional students returned to campus in full force. I helped to organize our “greeters”, the people who assist students and faculty in finding the right classrooms and making the students feel welcomed.  We had greeters Friday night and Saturday morning, so my weekend has been long stretches of work punctuated my little moments of sleeping and eating. Things went wrong during the opening, as they most likely will when 200 classes start at once, but a lot of things went really right. Our opening picnic yesterday, for instance, had the highest turnout ever. 

(I am proud to say, on a side note that I am not stress eating or overeating this week. At times like these, I often don’t sleep and gorge on candy or fatty foods. This week, I’ve been chomping on the veggies and eating EnviroKidz granola bars in lieu of massive bags of jellybeans.) 

 In addition to this stressful start, I started my own graduate program yesterday.  I already have a master’s degree in Creative Writing, and if I had buckets of money, I’d start on a doctorate in education. But, I get tuition remission at my school, so I’ve started my master of arts in leadership.  Since most EDd programs focus on leadership, I think I’m starting the best program for me right now. 

Class yesterday was invigorating. I forgot how much I missed being in the classroom as a student.  I loved listening to and partaking in discussions about shared texts.  Basically, I’m a big nerd. I also didn’t realize how weird it would be to sit on the other side of the classroom, after years of teaching on my own. 

I know I’ve made the right choice in starting this program. It felt right being in the classroom.  But, I also know that this will be really hard.  I know that I can balance doing homework, paid work, and my creative work.  I know that balance will actually feel like swinging between drowning in readings and papers, being buried in deadlines at the day job, and squeezing in poems on the bus and at night.  I have to accept the choice that I’ve made and the effect it will have on my life.

4. Create a bedtime ritual and stick to it until sleep resumes.

I’ve tried lots of tricks for resuming sleep after insomnia. Warm milk. Hot baths. Lukewarm baths. Cold baths.  Sleep medication, which I’m not super in love with unless it’s an emergency (see above). Not reading in bed. Reading in bed. Getting up when I can’t sleep. Staying in bed despite my lack of sleep. Counting backwards from 100. Meditation. Light exercise before bed. Not eating before bed. Some of these worked and some of these didn’t work as well as I would have liked.

The only thing that really works for me 100% of the time is to create a bedtime ritual and then stick to it every night. It triggers in my brain that I am winding down and sleep will follow shortly.  During the really bad insomnia time, I took a lukewarm bath with lavender essential oil in the water each night before bed.  Then, I went to bed and if I didn’t fall asleep within 30 minutes, I got up and did something else until I was tired again.  Rinse and repeat. Eventually it worked.

I know that I am not close to that time yet. I’ve had one morning where I’ve woken up too early, so I’m going to keep this in my back pocket. I am hoping that I’ll be tired enough tonight that I’ll pass out as my head hits the pillow.  If not, I may have to pick up some more (very expensive, I must say) lavender oil.

September 9, 2009

Eavesdropping, Day Three

Epithalamium, After a While

Even after so many years, we cannot
know each other fully. We’ve tried:
talked and touched, listened and
sat in silence for hours. Still,

we cannot split the other open
to crawl inside the skin, look behind
those opaque eyes. Knowing we’ve
committed to two lifetimes of unknowing,

years of living both beside and outside,
I ask you: Are you willing
to learn from a stranger? I am
willing, at long last, to try.

***

I actually wrote this yesterday, during our opening day festivities at my school.  Part of the mission of my school is to use your gifts (whatever they may be) in order to serve others. So, during the opening speech, the president of the school asked the incoming freshman, “Are you willing to learn from a stranger?” I immediately began writing and this draft resulted.

As a note, an epithalamium is a poem written for a bride and groom on their wedding day. Of course, this poem isn’t a traditional epithalamium, as it is written from the perspective of a spouse, after years of marriage. But I like the word, so it’s staying.

September 7, 2009

Eavesdropping, Day Two

fire 1

At the Last Bonfire of Summer

This is what consumes us: collecting
enough kindling and tinder
to feed the flames. Together, we
gather the wood into stacks, cackle
and chatter as the sun sinks

past the willows. Tonight, we watch
bats stumble and arc over the lake, watch
sparks skitter to the tips of low hanging branches.

We gossip as orange blue flames
lick the wood bare and leave behind
only embers and black ash. After a while,
all that is left is that which is too green
and will not break or burn.

***

Well, I made it through day two of the poetry mini-challenge hosted by Jill and Carolee over at Read Write Poem.  Only three more to go!

Last night, we went to a friend’s house for a bonfire and pre-Labor Day party.  I spent most of the party trying to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations, since I knew I had a poem to write.  Inspiration wasn’t hitting me and I almost gave up. Then towards the end of the night, Aaron supplied the line that inspired this poem.

My husband, always the guy that prefers having a job to hanging out aimlessly, put himself in charge of tending the bonfire throughout the night.  (In the picture, that’s him in the background adding another stick to the fire.) After a while, he ran out of the small sticks and brush that he was supposed to clear, so he sat down for a bit. When the host came over to ask about his progress, he said to him, “All that’s left is the stuff that’s too green to break or burn.”  After I heard that, I whipped out my phone and started typing bits of this poem into my notes for later.

September 6, 2009

Eavesdropping, Day One

consultation

Consultation with the Day Makers

Listen, the last thing we want
is a hot shaft, so watch your titration.
Measure your grams carefully
and weigh each chemical
before mixing.  Know the difference 

between your agent and re-agent, between
the gradient, the vertical, and the asymmetrical
cuts.  Keep your lines even. Use this lock
as your guide. You are so lucky, you get 

another transformation, the second
in one week. You get to burn
and clip damaged ends, shape
unruly masses into well-tamed symmetry.
Don’t worry, this always happens to me. 

You can shear the ends, clean
the edges using your reflection. We must always
scrutinize the product from another perspective,
from varying heights, until the eye
trains itself, notices every imperfection.
This is what we studied for.   

 

***

Over at Read Write Poem, Jill and Carolee are hosting a really interesting poetry mini-challenge.  For five days in a row, you must write a poem based on something you overheard.  I’m an unrepentant eavesdropper, so I was really excited to start this challenge. The only question was, “When do I start?” Can I keep up five whole days of poem writing? Can I overhear good poem seeds for five straight days?  When I was at the salon yesterday, I overheard much of the above poem, so today was as good a day as any to get started. 

I think this challenge may be as much about training your ears and and eyes, then it is about manufacturing inspiration consistently.  Truly, I could probably hear a poem almost anywhere.  I just have to listen for it. 

(By the way, the picture above was taken in my salon.  The salon doubles as a training academy for recently graduated beauty school students, so the stylists without clients were practicing on these creepy wigged heads. I just had to take a picture.)

September 3, 2009

Overheard on My Earbuds, Last Night

“Poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world.”

Percy Bysshe Shelley

via “Hope on a Tightrope” interviews with Tavis Smiley and Cornel West

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