I can't sleep.  Or I just don't want to.  Or something.  It has just passed midnight and I am wondering what my deal is since last week I was going to bed around the 9 o'clock hour after a weekend of camping and rising and lying down with the sun.  I guess I cannot fight it: I am a night owl.  Even if I get up early I am almost never fully awake before 11 AM (ask anyone who has ever worked or lived with me). 

I have just spent the better part of an hour looking for employment opportunities on craigslist because I feel like a fraud calling myself a writer and I feel like I should start preparing for the day I eventually run out of money.  There are a lot of shady gigs out there.  I especially like the ones that ask you to send a head (and/ or body) shot with your inquiry because you need to be attractive and well proportioned in order to serve food and beverage.  Um, I don't think so.

I would be a professional friend if I could.  I would love to spend entire work weeks just being a friend to people.  And by professional I don't mean I want to be paid or to solicit my services, I mean I would want to be taken seriously doing it.  That's all I really want out of professionalism.  To be taken seriously.  I think that's probably half the allure of it for most people.  Sure, we all need money to live in this world, but I think most people want to feel good about themselves and to be proud of something while they earn it.  It feels good to be an expert. 

I once met someone who was an incredibly kind person, the kind of person you want to be around and who you feel lucky to call a friend, and he talked about "letting them be the expert."  This dude was so cool because when he interacted with people he didn't act like he knew how cool he was or like he had all the answers.  This dude would stand and have a conversation with you and learn something from you because he knew you were probably an expert at something.  And you would be flattered and dignified because you were the cool person in the conversation; the one with the answers.  You could be an expert at taekwondo or medicine or wastewater management, it didn't matter.  You had something cool and interesting to talk about.  Basically all this dude would do was shut up and listen and learn, and the next thing you knew you felt like you were in the presence of Gandhi or something.  I always wanted to be more humble and kind like that.  I would want to be the kind of professional friend that makes people feel like they are rock stars. 

The real reason I am up is because I cannot turn off my brain.  This happens a lot to people, I understand, but I feel like my personal thought process is like that ringing in my ears: it never really goes away, it only seems that way sometimes because I've stopped paying attention to it. 

Okay, okay.  The real reason I am still up is because I had a mug of ice cream at 10 PM.  That was a delicious mistake.  And this shitty first draft is its love child. 
 
first draft 11/11/2009
 
I started reading this book about writing last week and already it has been enormously helpful in validating me as a writer because apparently the psychosis of having a brain that operates like a tangled web is a common trait of writers.  I wish my counselor had told me that when on my first visit I said something along the lines of, "I'm not entirely sure why I'm here.  I've got some stuff to unpack.  My brain feels like a tangled web with pieces of debris stuck in it."  Instead she told me to write about the web. 

I saw this movie a few years back called "The Waitress," with Keri Russell and it was a decent movie but I don't really want to talk about the movie, I want to talk about how Keri Russell's character would have fantasies about making pies.  The Screen would flash instantly from real life to pie crusts filled and topped with all sorts of crazy combinations of fruit and sweets and it was apparently Keri Russell's character's way of coping with life to make pies.  And she was awesome at making pies.  People loved her pies.  Anyway, I feel like I do that sometimes in life except instead of pies it is words.  Words or sandwiches.  I happen to make a mean sandwich.  Most of the time it is words, though.  I will space out in a situation in order to compose sentences and essays about what is going on in front of me.  Sometimes all I need is to drive by some funny sign that plays on words and I can think of a hell of a lot to say about it and how it reminds me of something that ends up making for a pretty good story.  My problem is that a lot of times I can not write things down as fluidly as they race through my mind so I end up spending a whole lot of time staring blankly at a computer screen, feeling like I want to take a nap.  Writing can be really hard.

Apparently this is normal for writers. 

Another thing this book talks about is writing shitty first drafts.  I'm not trying to be daft, that is the name of one of the chapters.  "Shitty first drafts."  Anyway, I have read a lot about needing to write first (and second and third and so on) drafts but maybe it was they way this author talked about it because for what might be the first time in my life it seems like a good thing to do.  Maybe it's because I feel like I finally have permission to write shitty stuff.  Before I would spend a lot of that staring-in-front-of-the-computer time editing in my head like when I was in the seventh grade and I would get points taken off in math because I liked to do the work in my head instead of writing it all out.  I don't know what it is.  Maybe I have a problem with getting messy with the process or maybe I like to protect the work in progress like a secret.  I really cannot say.  What I am trying to say is that I know I said before that I would try to keep this blog tidy but I have changed my mind.  Now I am going to let it get messy and I will publish some shitty stuff.  A few people have read my blog for years and think I am a pretty good writer but they might start to change their minds before I post something really good again.  But I think this will help.  I will write more often and I will free myself in such a way that might let a few buried treasures of really good writing surface every now and then. 
 
 
Maybe a year ago when I was once again wrestling with the cosmic question of what the hell I am going to do with my life, asking myself ultimately, "what do I want?" I came to the realization that I cannot have it all.  No one can.  This is not a new concept, of course, but I had never really thought it through before then and now I am realizing it in a new and practical way. 

I had been the ultimate single girl for quite some time-- independent, warring against loneliness with a plethora of friends and activities to flood my social calendar.  I was educated and I managed to find jobs I truly enjoyed, but I knew it was not my greatest calling to be a waitress for the rest of my life.  I became introspective (well, more so than usual) in a quest to "live like the grass is greener on this side," and find something more than contentment in my singleness.  I had heard it said and I believed that to be single was a gift.  It meant that you were free to go and see and be and do unlike anyone else who is tied to another person.  The more I thought about all this the more I became okay with, even occasionally excited about, the idea of living the rest of my days as an unmarried woman if that's the way things worked out for me.  If this was to be the case, then the question of what I was made to do-- the question of my greater purpose in the world-- was to be answered outside of the consideration of marital partnership, parenthood and traditional domesticity.  When I let my mind explore all that this entailed, I realized that my life might ultimately reach a fork in the proverbial road and I would have to choose between the constancy of my vocational dreams or family life.  Both would require my undivided attention, at least if I were to do either with the devotion that I desire.

Eventually I came to believe that there is a writer inside of me anxious to get out, and that potentially she is a great one.  In order for her to express herself it will take much time, dedication and support.  It is possible for me to give my whole life to give her the chance of success.  As a single woman this was not a big problem, it even seemed like an exciting and noble venture.  There was something I could do with my life-- and more specifically with my days-- to be true to myself and at the same time give something to the world.

Then something happened.  I fell in love. 

I happened to meet this amazing guy who is nothing less than the kind of man I always pictured myself with.  And that is a tall order!  The kind of guy I would settle with is not someone I would have to settle for.  He would have to be nothing less than Nathan.  This is the kind of guy I can really get behind and the kind of guy I can tirelessly spend hours upon hours with. 

So I have found myself here and now with two powerful and wonderful forces in my life: vocation and love.  There are two people I am really compelled to support: that writer inside and the man in my life.  Generally speaking everything is great and I have not yet had to make any major sacrifices with one for the other, especially considering how overwhelmingly supportive my loved one is of me and my work.  Even with all that said, I have still found myself here lately understanding more acutely than ever that I cannot have it all.  That is not to say that I have reached the aforementioned fork in the road where I have to choose between the two, it is simply to say that with the presence of both in my life I am limited in my ability to devote myself fully to just one.  I find my thoughts and priorities and time divided.  All this even in addition to the more numerous, smaller aspects and relationships in my life that seem to lose bits of my attention. 

Don't get me wrong.  I am not grieveing the fact that there are too many wonderful things in my life.  My problem is more mathematical.  You see, there is 100 percent of Ashley and every day is like a pie chart where I divide my attentions and priorities, and every day something' s gotta give.  Nothing and nobody gets the whole pie.  Nor do I get the whole pie of anything else.  I taste bits and nibbles and huge chunks, but never the whole thing.  Neither do I have room for it all.  At the end of the day the simple fact remains that I cannot have it all.

All this does not depress me.  It is best that I realize it because it allows me to make reasonable choices so that whatever sacrifices I make will be worth it.  I will however say that I am not yet a maestro at orchestrating my priorities.  I am frequently finding myself disappointed at the end of a day with how much I did not get done in one area of my life or another, wondering if the things I did choose to do were worth much.  It's okay, though.  It was meant to be this way and I will get better at making those kinds of choices.  In the meantime I will do my best. 

And now I kind of want some pie.
 
the process 09/30/2009
 
To begin the writing process I have been doing a little writing and a lot of reading and listening to audio mp3s and the like.  For me, the labor of writing is not so much in how to say something as it is in knowing what I am trying to say.  What makes me a writer is in part how I knit together words into prose but the majority of it is in how I see the world and interpret what I see.  For me it is about communicating a message.  Words, I believe, are very powerful and so I love writing because it is a patient process that allows me to mull (and mull and mull) over an idea before finally naming it.  Verbal communication is much less forbearing because we as people have a hard time with dead air; the silence that happens while waiting to hear what someone has to say.  We want to know every thought inside a person's head, forgetting that it is best that people not hear every thought inside our own heads, knowing all too well how cruel or stupid we ourselves can be above our shoulders sometimes.  Then when we say something the words are out there, representing us and what we think, available to be used by anyone who hears them in any way they wish.  (Ask any celebrity or politician about that.)  This reality can terrify me if I think about it too much because I know I cannot stand by every word I say or write and yet I cannot take it back.  This is why I have felt strongly that I need to get my head straight before I just. start. writing. 

People who know about my current quest have been asking a lot, "so, have you been writing?"  A good and obvious question.  The answer, as I started out saying, is that I have been reading mostly, trying to figure out exactly what I want to say, even what I believe.  Then the writing will come.  In the meantime this is all part of the process. 


"Writing comes more easily if you have something to say."  Sholem Asch
 
 
I'm starting something new here.  As with anything new, it is difficult for me to know where to begin or what to say about it because it is all speculation at this point.  The questions are the same, mostly: "What are you writing about?  What kind of writing?  What are you hoping to do with it?"  I manage to say something or other when in face to face conversation about my hard-to-peg life but mostly in the back of my mind I am scoffing, "God knows what!  I sure don't know."  Of course I have some ideas but mostly I am taking this thing one day at a time.  This just seems like the time to start moving forward with the part of my life that has been a subtle yet powerful undercurrent for as long as I can remember.

These are the details so far:

1. I quit my job
2. I'm practically embracing my 2009 resolution: simplify.
3. I vow to take myself seriously and write things down as one who believes she has something to offer the world; as one who has something to say that is worth hearing.
4. I'm not getting paid for it yet, but this is my job: Write.  Read, listen, think, pray and communicate.  Share. 

So welcome to my new blog.  This is where I will come to unveil parts of my life, my ideas and my process.  For the time being I don't have any idea how this will look, with time lines and agendas, but I will come here as often as I can and I will try to keep it tidy.  If you visit once or come here often, I would love to hear your thoughts as well.  One thing I do know is this: I cannot do this alone. 

And here we go...


"There may be a sense of where a work is going, but there are so many twists and turns in the process that the end must be honored and allowed to occur without our foreknowledge or interference.  This calls us to persevering, relentless openness."  Dan Allender, To Be Told