December: A Sense of Faith

Confession time: I didn’t think when this year began that I’d be able to withstand another year in the Dreaded Day Job. I cried, I begged, I pleaded, I fasted and prayed – and I stayed stuck. It was like fighting with the Tar-Baby – the more I fought the stucker I got (and like the Tar-Baby, He say nuthin’).

Twelve months on, and I’m still at the DDJ, and none of the myriad resignation letters I have composed in thought have yet been set to paper. (A question for any employment lawyers out there: what’s the legal status of an employee who sends in several different resignation letters in one envelope?) But the year has not been wasted.

Resignation Letter

During the year I have worked through Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way.  (Although I did miss some exercises due to a bout of zombieism bronchitis and I did get a couple of months behind at one point.) This has involved fun things like starting a scrapbook, playing with bubbles and making a jester’s hat. Less enjoyably, there was the dire Week Without Reading. Never Again.

While I haven’t been exactly religious in my observance of the ‘basic tools’ of the Artist’s Way – morning pages and Artist’s Dates – I have used them, and found them useful. One of the best things about the Artist’s Way is that it’s adaptable – not everyone has to do it the same way. It’s alter-to-fit, not One Size Fits All (which it never does).

vintage-teal-dress-alteration

The exercises for Chapter 12 include restorative and expansive tasks like mending something (in my case a summer dress that I can now wear after 18 months in the mending pile) or repotting a plant. I have brought home Bob the Parlour Palm (named after my favourite Simpsons character) and am on the lookout for a larger pot for him.

In the meantime I shall remove the freesia bulbs which ended up in the same pot (long story) and give them a taste of the fridge. For some reason they sprout in autumn, bloom in winter and die off in spring. Are they hemispherically confused?
I dare to dream that bringing Bob home from the DDJ is just the beginning of the longed-for ritual of Cleaning Out The Desk.

0315_leave-job-intro_485x340

I am becoming unstuck. (Not in the two-sandwiches-short-of-a-picnic way. I think.) I wouldn’t say that the Artist’s Way is the key to creative freedom and the solution to all your problems, but it’s helped me push the boundaries of what I thought possible in my life – and to my delight, some of the boundaries give. (Although they do need to be pushed pretty hard…)

I am glad I did the Artist’s Way, and perhaps someday I shall do it again. But for now, I’m going to look back with gladness – and look forward with hope.

Roadblocks

What constitutes an acceptable reason for not doing something you know you should do, aim to do, and frequently even enjoy doing? What’s a legitimate reason for not-doing, and what’s just an excuse for procrastinating?

Le Penseur (8327862567)

Or in my case, what’s an acceptable reason for spending another Monday in Not Writing? I think I’ve got a good one, this time.

My Monday started early; I was awake by one in the morning. By three I had decided to take my symptoms seriously, and by four I was leaving for hospital in an ambulance. (A very well-behaved ambulance, I must add: no wailings or speedings or other neighbour-unfriendly behaviour.)

no standing

My heart was doing 150, which is considerably over the posted speed limit for Lying Down Doing Nothing. The hospital tested this, that, and the other (are you having chest pains at all?), gave me a litre of water to drink and a litre of saline direct into a vein and then let me go home again.

Mind you, this all took about four and a half hours, so it was about time to start writing when I got home – but I’d only had three hours sleep. Can you imagine the artistic agony, the wrenching heartbreak of the anguished decision?

The Martyrdom of Saint Bartholomew, 1634

You must have an overactive imagination. I was too far gone even to figure out what day it was. I remained vertical only about long enough to peel off the fifteen or so sensors the medicos had stuck me with (apart from one which I found several hours later), and that was that. Common sense prevailed.

In fact, I spent most of the rest of the week in a horizontal position as well, only making it back to the DDJ for part of Friday, which may or may not have been a mistake.

Coloured Files

Quite a lot of work had accrued in my absence, and the question was raised as to whether I would like to go in to the office this coming Monday and do it then.

No, as it happens, I wouldn’t.
I’m going to be writing.

October: A Sense of Self-Protection

I do not have a problem with alcohol.

"To our beloved King !!"

This became something of a problem itself when I did the Deadlies exercise in the Artist’s Way.  The idea is that you write the following on 7 slips of paper which you then draw from, at random, 7 times: alcohol, drugs, sex, work, money, food, family/friends.

You then list 5 ways in which the drawn word has had a negative effect on your life.  Each time the slip goes back, so it’s even chances for next time.  I drew money/money/alcohol/food/alcohol/food/alcohol.  Apparently if it seems inapplicable, that’s resistance. Right.

I was scraping the bottom of the barrel, particularly with food and alcohol.  The negative effects of food on my life have largely been limited to stomach upsets (I still can’t bear the smell of mango) and the annoyingly large amount of time it takes to ensure meals are regularly prepared and eaten.

rotten mango

Alcohol was even worse.  I might have a glass of wine on occasion – particularly special occasions – but that’s about it.  Fifteen ways alcohol has had a negative effect on my life?  You must be dreaming.  Still, at least I didn’t draw ‘drugs’.  Confessing to a youthful tea addiction wouldn’t take me very far.

What have I learned from this exercise?  Well, besides proving that meaning is not always to be found in randomness, I decided overall that I spend too much time daydreaming and worrying (for what is worry but a dark daydream?) and not enough just enjoying the life I have.

A large part of this chapter of the Artist’s Way looked at workaholism, which is another problem I am happy not to have.  Or do I?  While I certainly don’t have any problem shaking the dust of the DDJ off my feet at 5pm on the dot, I do tend to fill my life with a lot of other doing.

Oh the shame...

Housework, handwork – doesn’t really matter what as long as I can feel guilty for not doing it, or at least for not doing all of it.
I’d secretly like to be a workaholic, it turns out, but I can’t bring myself to actually do all that work.

Nonetheless, I have resolved to be a bit more focussed in what I choose to do in my non-work time.  As with my writing projects, I won’t start any more until I’ve finished at least some of those I have underway, and I’ll try to work steadily on one instead of floating from UFO to UFO.  And I won’t feel guilty for not being able to do everything, which should make what I am doing more enjoyable.

The problem is that I tend to be a bit ambitious in what I can achieve, so my projects often take a long time, even once you take the distraction and procrastination into account.  But not always!  Having decided a couple of weeks ago to make myself a more permanent eye-swathe, I got straight down to the job with a fat quarter (in black and gold) and my sewing machine (also in black and gold).

Singer sewing machine

I used it last Monday (the swathe, not the machine) and achieved about 2,400 words (estimating 200 words on each of 12 pages and not wishing to count them all by hand).  More to come tomorrow, when trouble catches up with our heroine, an unexpected enchantment intervenes, and she uses up her last lifeline.

It’s a public holiday here in New Zealand tomorrow: Labour Day.  Which I shall celebrate by labouring at my chosen profession, instead of the one that feeds me.  It always struck me as strange that we celebrated Labour Day by not labouring.  Very illogical.  As usual, I’ll let you know how I go.

In other news, Tim Makarios of Ideophilus is seeking pledges to fund a Creative Commons audiobook of G.K. Chesterton’s The Everlasting Man.  Details here, including where you can find a sample of his reading voice – very easy on the ear!  Stop by if you’re a fan of G.K. Chesterton, C.S. Lewis (who recommended the book) or Creative Commons works generally.

Until next week, dear readers!
Sinistra Inksteyne hand250