reports on imperfect things #2
input is worth more than output my friends
Here’s something true; fresh, cold, post rainstorm (maybe it’ll snow) air makes me out of my mind with joy and optimism. It also makes me spontaneously decide for no real reason, other than the hell of it, to change things up. I spent two hours this morning hiking with my partner and kiddos (well, hiking with one of the kids and carrying the other one) holding a view of snow dusted hills in sight and feeling so giddy I decided while grinning at a bluebird…You know what? Why don’t I just write in the evening instead of the afternoon? I could have ALL day to just do whatever (insert shoulder shrug) and then write away while drinking a cup of herbal tea before bed. This was an absolutely ridiculous, terrible and delusional idea. I was drunk on fresh air and a view that won’t come around again for another 30 years (or that’s what the weathermen are saying anyway). That and the fact I heard that Madeleine L’Engle used to write after putting her kids to bed and I very badly want this to be possible for me.
It is not possible for me. The hard truth is that I am the most morningest morning person there is. I am not now nor have I ever been a night person – or even sadly an early evening person. Currently I am gulping down my third cup of double bagged black tea (contemplating throwing caution to the wind and having coffee at 7:25pm - because being hyper and unable to sleep would definitely help matters) and wondering if I should just write you all a haiku. I did promise poems.
There are also shame filled college flashbacks happening of sitting in my dorm room the night before a paper was due and not having started…any of it…even the outline was just a glimmer in my imagination…stomach aches, lots of stomach aches and moaning and sitting up very straight, then slouching over the work, then sitting up very straight again, moving my head around in a circle and sharply exhaling, staring at the clock and realizing I only have ONE hour before I should go to sleep if I want to be a functioning human the next day. I’ve learned (and forgotten) a lot about myself since then. First and foremost I don’t like stomach aches but most importantly that if I do the things I care about before noon I am a much much happier person.
So why do we do this? Why do we forget what we know and love about ourselves? Either about the work we are doing or just the little things about ourselves that make us uniquely ourselves; such as the fact that we become a narcoleptic dormouse after 8pm. It’s a bit of self-sabotage I tell ya. And you all do it too.
In the spirit of all this I have a confession; I love the Lynda Barry assignments that I shared with you last month, soo much that it’s a bit scary; my fixation feels a bit religious actually. I feel like she’s stumbled on something holy almost like a prayer to human imperfection. And also, I have been outright neglecting to do them. I have done them maybe a half a dozen times when my intention was to do them daily (like a prayer). Each time I bring my attention to them, and give them my time, it feels like I have entered a conversation with myself that is so good I don’t want it to end but each time because I love it so much I also judge myself deeply. I judge the work. I judge the output instead of loving the moment of input.
And the moment is what counts. That’s where the prayer is. That’s where the love is. That’s where as Amelia Hruby says our attention is / becomes sacred. Not the work is sacred but our attention is sacred. Our decision to sit and pay attention to what we love is our assignment. We must gently quiet the inner critic and let it know, it has been heard, but that we will not turn away from what we love. As Anne Lamott says, butt in the chair, every day just put the butt in the chair and hold space with the things we love and then watch tenderly as the imperfection spills out onto the page and into our realm of knowing. When this happens our knowing grows beyond small, safe, good, right, perfect and becomes something alive and a bit outside of us.
And so this evening I offer this simple question: what do we know and love about ourselves, our work, our daily practices that we are not giving our attention to? What are we knowingly turning away from when the act of simply turning towards it and giving it attention would bring us to a place of contentment, grace, and love?
For more inspiration and thoughts on how we spend our time and creative loving practices check out Monday Monday by Marlee Grace. This is where I found Amelia's work on sacred attention and they are doing a class together soon! Check it out!
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