Posted by: Kimberly Budd | February 14, 2014

Later…and later…

I’m a high functioning procrastinator.  But I’ll tell you about that later….

Even this morning as I thought about getting up and making some nutritious oatmeal before facing my frozen world, I ended up curled up in bed doing another sudoku puzzle.  I felt the whoosh from breakfast-making window closing.  I felt my neck move further out of its optimal alignment from my strange app playing posture.  I had a million things that I wanted to do, but I couldn’t decide which one to do first, so I did nothing.  I didn’t even rack up a record-low time on any of the puzzles I did.

But the one different thing I did do was consciously recognize that I was doing it.  I stopped myself once from crawling back under the covers when I should have been searching for socks to wear.  I actively searched my mind for what was bothering me, what I was avoiding.  I set a time to give myself four minutes to get dressed in.  I thought about turning on the audiobook I have that’s enlightening me about procrastination, but I didn’t want to get up to turn off the radio.

The other thing I became aware of as I was running out of the house was that I had the second worst lunch ever due to said procrastination – soup and blueberries.  It is a huge improvement over yesterday’s lunch of Vitamin Water and shortbread (and Subway bought later in the afternoon because I was feeling loopy from all the sugar in the shortbread…)

I’ve actually been on this kick for the last few days.  I don’t know why, but I started listening to Still Procrastinating? by Joseph R. Ferarri and have worked on being mindful about when I’m wasting time and when I’m getting things done.  If mornings are bad, evnings are worse.  I come home, flop on the bed and fall asleep until I have to rush off to be somewhere that I may or may not want to be.  If it’s somewhere that I want to be for me, I skip it, and instead turn on the television.  Hence the pristine condition of my gym card and the few pages written in my journal (well, up until lately, but that’s a different story again.)

But being mindful about things doesn’t necessarily get them done.  My car didn’t move last night even when I had some fun errands booked. I didn’t make oatmeal for breakfast this morning (because I secretly wanted bacon, but that’s another story) and I didn’t even cut up fruit for myself.  On the upside, I did turn off the television prior to my brain turning to mush, and do the work in my journal that I wanted to get done.  That was one big thing crossed off my wish list for the week.

So where do I go from here?  I need to keep reminding myself not to procrastinate.  Instead of sending a text as to why I couldn’t do something, I just did the thing that I didn’t want to do (in under 3 minutes, including getting up to whinge about something and return a charging cord to where it belongs…).  It will take a stream of tiny successes to help me get washed away in the flow of getting things done.  For now, each accomplishment feels like a big drop of rain on my parched skin.

But I haven’t yet made my way to the library to pick up the paper copy of the book on procrastination that I ordered.  One step at a time…

Posted by: Kimberly Budd | January 23, 2014

Just in Case

My name is Kimberly and I am a bit of a handbag addict.

And while you might ooh and ahh over the nice bag I have, on the inside, it is a certified disaster area. Nothing is safe inside of one of my bags. Oh, it is secure, it likely won’t go astray, but there’s a good change that it will be wounded or destroyed.

You see, it’s the nature of giant handbags to hold a lot of things. So I put a lot of things in mine, but sadly, some of those things break (ibuprofen gel caplets) and some of those things decompose when you forget them at the bottom of the bag for long enough (plums). This is often a challenge as I often refer to my handbag as a small electronics store, housing my phones and tablet and digital camera.

So, my purse is a dangerous place to live, especially if you are a harmless soft-cover notebook trying to live amongst the heavy electronics and the squishy things. Last month I noticed that my new yellow notebook was starting to sustain some serious injuries after only two months of use.

Life in a handbag can be dangerous.

Life in a handbag can be dangerous.

Luckily, my magpie mind spotted a shiny tablet pouch in a catalogue, and I thought that it would be a good way of keeping my journals a bit neater. The first one I ordered was sold out, so I found another one on EBay.

It may look all blue and swirly, but it's real purpose is to protect my journals!

It may look all blue and swirly, but it’s real purpose is to protect my journals!

I ended up buying a Fossil tablet zip pocket, with a second pocket on the front. It’s blue, with a swirly pattern that’s supposed to be the northern lights. If I wanted to, I could slip my iPad inside and put my journal in the front pocket, but if the goal is to minimize damage to my journal, putting it in the small pocket and take it out again is rife with potential for further damage.

It’s also spacious enough for more than one notebook. I’ve been running around for the past week with all of my 2013 notebooks to do a recap of the past year, and both fit inside quite comfortably. Once inside my large handbag, which I won’t share a picture of, it’s easy to find the case to pull out my writing. I’m sure the thrashing that occured as I searched for something or dumped the entire contents of my bag on my desk to find my phone was not good for my notebook either.

The notebooks are much safter inside the case.

The notebooks are much safter inside the case.

And I’m already starting to see other benefits to the case. If I want to streamline while I’m going out at lunch, I could just put my phone, my coffee card, and a few pens inside and head out without my entire albatross-esque handbag. Or I could use the extra room in the case for stickers and washi tape. Hmmm…..

Posted by: Kimberly Budd | January 3, 2014

Fabulous Friday – First of 2014

It’s a new year and I’m back in business.  Or not up to my eyebrows in grad school-related anxiety, afraid of wasting any good sentences on something other than my mini-thesis.  To get back on track and to put it another way…
…Happy 2014 everyone.
With the exception of one gift I didn’t love (I’ve filed a formal complaint with Santa on this one), Christmas was awesome.  There was a lot of food and festivity, followed by some long winter naps.  But the season has passed, and even though I still have to decorate my Christmas tree, I’m looking forward to moving on to the wintery New Year season.  More low key days and practical resolutions to look after.  Joining the mad throngs at the gym, knowing that I’ll still be there on February 1.
Getting back on to my various routines feels good, and even though it will hurt, I’m going back to Pilates tonight, and back to the pool as soon as it opens.  I’ve already restored order to my pantry, taking in my phone to call for help if I got sealed in by an avalance of things.  So the list of things that have been absolutely fabulous this week starts anew:
  • The Pure Bossa Nova station on Songza has thralled me this week.  The Christmas mixes were helpful to stay in the holiday mood as well.
  • My plants, both at home and work.  The amaryllis had a bit of a crash on New Years Eve, and I came home to the pot on its side with the flower stock broken half off.  The flower was just too much for the plant.  I pulled it off and put it into a vase, and three of the four blooms are still going strong.  On the plant, there’s another set of flowers that are starting to open.  I hope they take their time and last as long into January as possible. The hyacinth that I bought a week ago is blooming already, having shot up three inches in one night.  I can’t wait until its in full swing and I come home to the smell of hyacinth.  Finally, the Christmas cactus that a co-worker gave me from a cutting from her plant is going strong. There were five new leaves that have shot out over the holidays, and two more are peeking out.  Even when it’s cold outside, there’s new growth to celebrate indoors.

    New leaves on a Christmas cactus.

    Ooh, look at those baby leaves grow. They were only a few milimetres long on Christmas Eve, but have been surging along over the past couple weeks.

  • Bounty from Ebay, both the stuff that’s arrived, and what’s in the mail.
  • Watching Despicable Me 2.  I want a minion!
  • Taking an extra few minutes to drive around the block on my way home to look at the lights on two forty foot tall pine trees.
  • A gift of cabbage rolls – my favourite kind!
  • Lazy afternoons curled up with a book or a magazine.
  • Starting 2014 without a dirty dish in the sink.  I didn’t have them hidden any other place in the house, in case you were wondering.
  • Homemade soup, new recipes and new kitchen appliances.  And some great kitchen plans.
  • How learning a new language lights up my brain.  Ten minutes of playing on my Italian app and all of my creative cylinders are firing.
Posted by: Kimberly Budd | December 30, 2013

Masters Complete. Phew.

Off and on, I have written about my academic adventures in the course of getting my Master of Arts – Integrated Studies degree, with it all culminating in taking my final project class this fall.  My final paper was due on December 9, and I had most of it written the day before with enough time for a good edit.  Because I could choose any interdisciplinary topic I wanted, I built on other work that I had been doing and wrote on how online communities help reinforce individual’s journaling habits.  It had technology and writing, so I was happy.

Picking the topic had been a frantic endeavour.  The week we needed to pick our final paper topics was the week that I was in New York, weathering an early October heat wave, more concerned about how long of a subway ride it was from Harlem to the beach than what I was going to spend a month researching and writing about once I got home.  I suppose in a way that the rush was good because it meant that I didn’t over think it, that I didn’t get overly ambitious.  As it was a 4,000 word paper, I needed to keep it simple and focus on one well thought out question.

Researching this paper was absolutely fabulous, with the possible exception of the time I ran into Freud.  I found an article on journal writing that made me want to stop what I was doing and drive to the nearest coffee shop to write.   To keep my mind ever engaged with the journaling process, I had the Bridget Jones’s Diary audiobook playing in the background, and that too wove its way into my paper.

One of the questions that I struggled with in the first few days of doing my research is where to keep my notes.  I could have bought a separate scribbler to take things down, or there was always the option of using an electronic format.  One of the concepts that I wrote about is that writing is a form of thinking, and I was able to see evidence of that in my paper writing process.  In the writing of this paper, I was fortunate enough to experience this first hand.

After reading one academic article on blogging, I struggled with how I could relate it to my paper.  There was good information in the article, and I wanted to use it, but I couldn’t figure out how it supported the question I was researching.  The paper got me thinking, however, and I sat down with my journal to write my reaction to it.  I wrote about how I had related to a lot of the stories shared by the bloggers about why they shared online, citing examples of my cringe-worthy old blog that detailed my shopping exploits.  By getting this all out on paper, I was able to turn it to a point where I could see how the piece would fit into the puzzle, realizing that the bloggers that I intended to write about could share some of these motivations.

That eureka moment prompted something else – that I was going to encourage myself to write about the information that I was taking in as a way of letting ideas slowly filter into the paper.  As a firm believer of having only one journal, I put everything in my yellow Moleskine, using a different colour pen to show that it was now time for work and I could plot world domination later.

This was not new to me.  My 2010 journal incubated my final poetry writing projects, and written rants on the Medusa myth in 2011 lead me to expand what I wrote about in my History/Classics course.   In the race to find a bigger/better way of getting this paper off my desk, I had forgotten the ways that work the best for me.

Writing the paper itself was moderately painless, as I took two days off work and plunked myself down in front of my computer and wrote 2,000 words on one day and 1,700 the next.  There was stuff I had written both before and after, but those two days saw all the heavy lifting.  By finishing a bit before my deadline, I was able to walk away from it and then do a very good edit, catching all the sentence fragments and weird shifts in tense that often turn up in final drafts.

And then I was done, and right after I pressed “Submit for Marking” on the class site, it was like I had pulled out my own plug, and spent the rest of the night curled up in bed with an audiobook.  And maybe some cookie dough. I was done.

So if you were to sum up all that I have learned over the course of my degree you would see that I have written papers on Gaelic football in Western Canada, 9/11, Medusa, the use of technology in Gossip Girl, sex in Victorian England (yes, you read that correctly) and a series of poems about a Sasquatch.  The most important skill that I have gained from it is regular journalling practice, which came from the two personal writing courses that I took in 2009 and 2010.  Ironically, it’s something that I value beyond words.

Now that I am fully recovered from writing the paper, and have received external validation on its goodness (an A+), I am now looking at what my next challenges are.  Besides a trip to Ireland and possibly Iceland, I’m taking a journaling course in the new year to reinforce my habit and to continue learning.  That, and I’m excited to break into the pack of lime green Moleskine notebooks I bought in New York.  It’s going to be a good 2014.

Posted by: Kimberly Budd | September 20, 2013

Fabulous Friday

On such a beautiful day, I can’t lament summer coming to a close.  While it is getting darker earlier and the mornings are now brisk, I’m sure that the coming season will be just as good as summer in its own way.  While I could go on and sound like a walking pumpkin spice latte advertisement, here’s what’s been fabulous over the last few weeks:

A few of my favourite things in September so far.  Being able to wear boots again!  Aromatic apples, the harvest moon and evidence of another delicious family dinner.

A few of my favourite things in September so far. Being able to wear boots again! Aromatic apples, the harvest moon and evidence of another delicious family dinner.

  • Diving into piles of excellent Indian food with great company.  And the sweet, soft, buttery, slightly sticky coconut naan embodies all of my favourite adjectives.
  • Taking the hurls out to a field and pucking the ball around until it was almost fully dark.  Yeah, and the full harvest moon was the icing on that outing.
  • The fresh smell of crab apples in my cubicle.  It’s time to get those babies into some jars….
  • Meetings that end at a reasonble hour.
  • Getting lost in a good audiobook.  I like listening when I’m walking or folding laundry, or even as I’m trying to fall asleep.  Last week I listened to Niamh Greene’s Rules for a Perfect Life, and it was a wonderful escape.
  • Putting together a great outfit, and knowing when to deploy it.
  • Taking a lunch hour and reading a magazine.  Resisting the urge to rush, to squish another activity into my day.  Just sitting, sipping and turning pages.
  • The arrival of fall catalogues filled with boots.  I fell in love at least eight times over five pages.  Sigh.
  • That the last few pieces of my NYC trip have been put into place.  I’ve booked two tours and a lecture, but other than that, my schedule is wide open for exploring and picture taking.  Now all I have to do is figure out what to pack and what bag will be best for my trip.
  • Planning not to over plan for the upcoming weekend.  At one point I had a down to the minute schedule of everything I wanted to accomplish.  Now I just have a handful of things on a post it.  Much better.

 

Posted by: Kimberly Budd | August 30, 2013

Fabulous Friday

Here’s a far from comprehensive list of great things that have happened over the past few weeks, (since I’m losing the battle at putting together a list weekly):

By far, the best thing that happened to me lately was finding a real, live guru (on the Internet, of course) that teaches what I need to learn right now. It was a by chance, of course, that I wandered on to a blog post of hers, and learned that she specializes in what I’d been telling myself I needed for a while. (No spoilers, sorry. I like my space to explore before I start sharing. I know you understand. XX) Sometimes you just know when you’re meant to cross paths with someone, and all the bells were ringing on this one. She also has courses that are starting soon, so I don’t have to delay delving into awesomeness for too long! I hate delayed delving.

Raspberries that I picked myself. They’re part of the red food group.

Used book sales. I was down at the Fringe last week, and even though the play I wanted to see was sold out, I got mini donuts and a stack of books. A bag of sugar covered fried batter and two retro cookbooks and I’m pretty much in heaven.

Turning an uncomfortable and unpleasant conversation into a scene from my book. It’s the 21st Century now, and we’re all about renewable energy — in this case, it was turning manure into heat.

Laughing with my sister about evil smiley bastards. The threat is real. They’re just funnier when I’m talking with her about them.

Eventually seeing the play that I wanted to see at the Fringe. I knew I would get the knack of buying tickets in advance eventually…

Planning picnics.

No longer having any major bruises on my arms. As you can see below, that isn’t always the case.

 

That covers the big pieces (and the mini donuts). Have a spectacular long weekend!

20130830-231609.jpg

Posted by: Kimberly Budd | August 22, 2013

Mid August Pause

The last few weeks have been crazy, and I’ve been whirling here and there with all the things that I do in summer. Sports – fridge drama – the Calgary hurling tournament have kept me more than busy. In fact, I have a whole list of things that I need to do more of before the summer ends, like more roaming in the river valley with my camera and proving I’m an excellent gatherer at the farmers’ market.
The frenzy to do things has not lead to a lot of times to write things, especially in this forum. Yet, today as I went through some of my old posts, it occured to me that some of the stories have advanced. So instead of setting free a not fully ready post, I thought I would share updates on other fronts.

I’ve made friends with my journal again.

The book that terrified me now gives me a warm and happy glow. Contented sigh.

The book that terrified me now gives me a warm and happy glow. Contented sigh.

Two weeks ago, I couldn’t face my journal, and wanted to pack it away in a drawer and start a new one so that I wouldn’t have to write about the reversal of earlier observations. When push came to shove, I decided not to start a new notebook in that manner. And besides, the story is still being told, and I’m writing it down in my blue journal without hesitation, hoping that it will fizzle out in the next ten pages so that the new yellow notebook can be a really fresh start.

The thing that excites me is that if I continue writing at this rate, I will have the new notebook with me for my New York trip. Well, if I continue journalling at the rate I have over the past few days, the blue book won’t be able to contain my thoughts by the end of August. Which will be perfect, because a lot of what I want to do on my trip is take the time to write while sampling the city’s best bakeries and hot chocolate. “Are you going to see a Broadway show?” someone will ask. “No, I’m going to eat baked goods and write and take pictures.” That was even my stated intention for my trip when I booked accomodations. Can’t wait!

Doing less of nothing – but I will be doing less of some things.

I was fairly unmotivated at the beginning of summer, cranky because people wanted me to operate at speeds faster than a slug. It got a bit better in June, as I started focusing on what I needed to do to get things done. It was at the end of July when I realized that part of my resentment stemmed from doing things that I was pretty burned out with. So that lead me to focus on what I need to do less of.

As this has marinated in my mind over the summer, it is now obvious that I need to stop doing things that don’t light me up. What do I mean by that? I mean that I need to focus on things that put a real smile on my face, not just a plastic war smile that I’ve been seen wearing far too often in the past while.

And I’ve really been aware of the the things that light me up and the things that drag me down in the past little while. The contrast is amazing. When I’m lit up, I have energy to spare. I ask what needs to be done next. I know the next three chess moves. I’m a light breeze instead of a rough wind.

So at the decision point — If what I’m doing makes me feel as good as looking at a field of flowers does, it stays. If I find that I’m not happy about things, if I’m doing things out of robotic obligation or to please people who still make me sit two steps down from them — they’re out of my calendar app.

And it’s not like the time is going to be filled with just old episodes of Gossip Girl. I’m taking the final course of my MA starting in September, and really want to spend more time getting acquainted with my new camera. I want to eat better and expand my repetoire in the kitchen, so I’m in for a fall of experimenting with curries and cakes. I also have another couple projects up my sleeve that I don’t quite have the words for yet.

I still give a puck.

I might not have reached this conclusion in relation to hurling a few weeks ago, when I felt as bruised and beaten as my legs looked. I wished that I wouldn’t have gotten myself mixed up in the endeavour– coordinating, ordering, emailing. The only thing I didn’t regret was picking up a hurley myself and giving it a go.

I thought I would snap a picture of myself with the cup before it made its brief trip to Calgary. There's nothing like hot pink and silver!

I thought I would snap a picture of myself with the cup before it made its brief trip to Calgary. There’s nothing like hot pink and silver!

But genies never go back into the bottle neatly. Thankfully. Because when I started untangling everything, looking at what the problems really were, it was more what I was feeling about other things that were obscuring the view. Hurling in Edmonton had made long strides in a considerably short period of time. A great team had been built. And most of all, it was the right thing to do.

Now that the hurling tournament is over and plans are being made for next year, I’m much calmer. And now that I have the Longest Puck – Canadian title to defend, I need to train all that much harder.

Posted by: Kimberly Budd | August 13, 2013

Blank Pages

I have not been able to touch my journal for over a week to write in it.  I want to abandon the last fifteen blank pages and start over in another Moleskine in a different colour.  I don’t want new stories consorting with the old.

The scariest place I know of right now -- my journal.  I think we can still be friends, but making the first move is going to be tough.

The scariest place I know of right now — my journal. I think we can still be friends, but making the first move is going to be tough.

It’s not the writing itself. I do not want to write in the same blue book that I have been writing in, as the contents of the last two months of pages are incongruent with what I want to write now.  How can one side of the page contain hope and the other this sinking sick feeling?

I’ve been leaving the sick out for a while now. There’s a sneaky file on my computer that I’ve been documenting the case with.  And maybe some random notes on my phone.  But my journal, the authoritative source, is purposely being kept in the dark.

Part of me wonders how can I carry around that story in print?  It feels like a lie now and I can’t write what really happened in my normal size writing. If at all, I will need to sit somewhere dark and put it in eye-split tingly small print.  I should take all the typed, sneaky-file bits and print them out and paste them in to the book, but that would make the book too heavy to carry.  (If you have ever lifted my day-to-day handbag, you will know this is a lie.  I can bolt metal plates to each page without affecting the heft too much.)

And the part that really gets me is that there is such an easy solution.

I have a new pack of notebooks that I can crack open, and I can forget the small blue book and the things I shared with it. My hopes. The lies. And worse, some truth.  I can shove it in my drawer where I keep my memory cards and my 2011 Gaelic football medal, and only go through it when I’m wondering why I’ve developed a twitch in regards to something at a later date.  Right now I know exactly where the twitch comes from.
Except it’s not exactly a twitch.  It’s more like a pulsating knot in my shoulders that makes it impossible to turn my neck any more than 60 degrees in either direction.  It makes changing lanes an ordeal.  And while there is a chance that it stems from something physical (maybe repeated bending over to pick up a ball with a flat stick, and then trying to hit said ball as far as I can with the stick?), I know that a big component of the tension that’s sitting in my neck is related to stress.
This is where it gets tricky.  The best way for me to get rid of the lingering stress  is to write.
And not just about anything.  I know from experience that if I write about what’s causing the tension, that it tends to go away faster.  This stressor has been magnified by seven days of replaying the particularly embarassing parts.  By sitting still and thinking about the roads not taken (what fun and fresh hell those would have been!).  Putting pen to paper is the best way for me to put this in perspective.  And while I’m not talking to my journal, it’s the neck pain is not going to subside, not with all the massages, time spent in the hot tub or good old Advil.
So what do I do with those blank pages?
I don’t know.  But for the time being, I’m going to have to write.  The question is just where.
Posted by: Kimberly Budd | August 9, 2013

Fabulous Friday

It has been a frantic few weeks.  There was a big Gaelic football tournament, and things to do for Heritage Days, and then a raft of household preparations for new windows and new appliances (which didn’t arrive).  More demands on my time have meant I’ve spent less time in front of my journal and keyboard.  (I even went through a patch of the week without wifi in the house…that’s why it feels like the apocolypse…) Less writing results in less goodness flowing through my entire system. And we all know what that does to me.

This was the watch out pigeon, looking out for the mama and eggs that were nesting on my balcony.  And looking in my window glaring at me.  He did that a lot too!

This was the watch out pigeon, looking out for the mama and eggs that were nesting on my balcony. And looking in my window glaring at me. He did that a lot too!

This week, in general, has been for the birds.  Quite literally with the window replacement, as I had to get everything off of the balcony, which meant moving all my planters, patio furniture and a bucket I had left outside months ago.  Picking up the bucket, I came face to beaks with two juvenile pigeons.  I started screaming right there, dropped the bucket, before running down the hallway to get someone to get those birds off my balcony.  And that was when I saw the nest with two eggs in it, and another freak out began. It turns out, I do not cope well with birds.

Now, getting to the good things that made me happy this week:

  • Long lunches that span seven hours, three bars, a field where we pucked around a ball, several car rides and more than one state of well being.  All of it was one long conversation about everything with an old friend who was in town for the day, and I mean everything.  It’s always good to have someone remind you of the crazy things you said fifteen years ago, like, “I’m going to iron your pants for you once and just this once.  Next time if you don’t hang them right on your drive up here, you’re going to have to walk around looking like a tramp.”  Yeah, that was totally something that I would have said circa 1998.
  • A great sale on capris and a skirt at the mall.  Skirts are a potent medication in my world, and after this weekend, I really needed the pink skirt I’ve been eyeing for a month.
  • That I have two gorgeous vases of flowers on my kitchen island at home.  Red gladiolus and a mixed bouquet.
  • Reports that I stil mostly mutter in French after too many pints of cider.  It’s an idiosyncracy that I would hate to lose.
  • That I am faster in water than I have ever been.  Hopefully this is a sign that I’ll be out of the “slow” lane soon at the pool.
  • Time spent playing with my camera.  And playing with photos.  If it doesn’t have bright popping colours, I can fix that.
  • Listening to an audiobook by Helen Gurley Brown.  I downloaded it shortly after I woke up on Monday morning, even though I couldn’t otherwise move my head.  Her turns of phrase are brilliant.  There was one that went along the lines of “Giving him your Mount Everest look — like you want to climb all over him” (from HGB’s Sex and the Single Girl).  I’m glad I did not actually listen to that part on Monday morning, as I would have shattered my brain laughing that hard in my condition at the time.

Well, it’s not a whole parade of stellar, but it’s a start!  Have a good weekend, everyone!

Posted by: Kimberly Budd | July 23, 2013

Just What Is It?

“What ya writing?” I am asked, continually, when people see me sitting down with my journal.

“Stuff,” is my usual reply.  It’s really none of their business, and I don’t know how to tell them that I need to maintain the connection between pen and paper or my head’s going to implode.  That sounds a bit melodramatic when said aloud. Some times I’m writing a plain account of something that happened, like last weekend, or sometimes it gets to the heart of the matter.  Other times, it can be a gratitude list or a rare snippet of fiction.

I know what this is.

I know what this is. It’s beautiful.

But I don’t want to get into the details of what it is with people who don’t understand my process.

Because sometimes I don’t know what it is that I’m writing.

Lately, my messy life has been giving me a thing or two to write about.  Oh, it’s not as messy as it has been, but there are thoughts that I need to keep straight as the story meanders along.  An anecdote can change the course of the stream. (And has.) There are things I might need to remember one day, or look back upon with a cringe.

On Sunday night I had an idea that just needed to be written out, as it all started to pour through me at once.  I needed my fingers to type it out while I could still see the whole picture in my head.  I opened a blank page, blocked out everything else that could distract me, and just wrote for 25 minutes, stopping at just under 500 words.

Although I can look back and see the words and the sentiment, I just don’t know what it is that I wrote.

It’s an opinion, not a story.  Maybe it’s an argument for the way that I prefer my world to be.  It might be a blog post one day, with a whole pile of editing.  It might be part of a book, or something that I simply print out and paste into my journal.

I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.

I’m not afraid to say that I don’t know.  I’m over knowing everything, being a million different people to please everyone.  My writing doesn’t have to please everybody all the time either.  It does enough trick pony riding/bringing home the bacon/people pleasing on my behalf during the day that I let it do what it wants in the off hours.

So what ever it decides to be, the piece I wrote last night was born free.  Born of inspiration.  It will let you know when it wants you to notice it, when its done in whatever shape it takes.

Just in the meantime, don’t ask what it is.  I don’t know, and neither does it.

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