Category: Writing

Rabbit hole

6:15am my mind is going down a rabbit hole. I am thinking about creativity and work. Three thoughts. 1- I hold on to work because I believe that is the source of my material. 2- I hold on to work because I don’t believe I can earn money and support my family without structure and external pressure. 3- I write to relieve tension caused by work. If tension is gone will I write? If structure is gone will I go broke? If work is gone what will I write about? That is where I am. That is how I function. But I am frustrated. Because I work so much and only write as a reaction to feelings caused by work I am limited. *ABRUPT MINDSET CHANGE I create engaging and interactive content. I devote my energy to delighting people who interact with what I create.

High Steppin’

5:31am (Trying the letter to future self theme) What should I tell you? Yesterday you went to work. The employee you spoke with on Monday about job performance came in and resigned. That was alright. You were going to put her on a performance improvement plan. Her choosing to leave relieved stress. The day turned positive. In the afternoon you drove to Anthem. Anthem is way north of Phoenix. You went out there to get some forms signed for the LA office. The person that needed to sign the forms was not available. You met one of the chaplains up there and gave them to him to have signed. Since yesterday morning you have felt renewed. Which is nice. Wednesday was an awful day. On Wednesday you wanted more than anything to quit, find a job as a chaplain and never look back. You blew off calls with the clinical leadership of the senior living communities. You came home and took an hour and half lunch. You spent most of the day in your office with the door shut. But yesterday was different. Now you can see a path to turning the site around and making it profitable. That is a goal you want to achieve. Last night You drank two beers before dinner. It was gross. You didn’t enjoy them. They made you feel sick. And you didn’t sleep well. Beers on Thursday nights used to be the best. You woke up this morning at 3:47am. You went for a walk and worked out. You thought about work and for the most part you were happy on the walk. It is easier to be happy on Friday. It was the first walk you did both extra loops to increase distance. Your core muscles feel stronger when you walk more. On the walk you started thinking about the WIL but you made yourself stop. You were feeling hurt and cycling about being dumped by her back in 2017. Yesterday you started applying the “one day at a time” mindset to work days. You realized you need to focus on the moment. Not try to reconcile the past. Not plan the future. Writing that sentence made you think of an Avett Brothers song. “See, you can only live one day at a time, only drive one hot rod at a time, only say one word at a time, and only think one thought at a time.” The Avett Brothers, High Steppin’.

The Avett Brothers, High Steppin’

Audience

5:49am the way I post and what I share differs greatly depending on the audience I imagine as I write. Sometimes I write for my future self. Other times I write for strangers. Sometimes The WIL. Lately I have been picturing my wife and daughter finding this blog now or after I die. I believe the posts are most real and honest when I selfishly do it just for me to go back and read. I recently found a handwritten journal I kept from when I was did a clinical pastoral rotation at St. Mark’s hospital in 1996. While I tried to be honest in the journal I failed to capture the scene of what I experienced. As I read the journal I kept wanting more information. I wanted to know more about who I talked with. What they were like. The words they said. I wanted deeper analysis of what I was thinking. I wanted to know my hopes, fears and emotions. Because of the experience if finding the journal and realizing what is missing I am a better writer. when I am cognizant of my desire for more information I write more engaging material.

Writing

9:36am We are getting ready to leave for the activity center. It should be a fun time. Right now I am thinking about the creative pursuit of writing and what I do for work. I have come up with a new perspective. In the summer of 2002, well before my daughter was born, my wife and I moved to Valencia, California from Evanston, Wyoming. My wife kept her corporate position but I quit my job as a religious consultant for the state of Wyoming. We moved so I could be an actor and my wife could be closer to family. It was a rash adventurous decision we made as newlyweds who were sure we could conquer the world. The move was not free of tension. My wife was supportive but skeptical. While she looked forward to spending time with her sisters she wasn’t sure of my new plan for work. But I was confident. I envisioned myself auditioning for parts and easily getting jobs to pay my share of the bills. As soon as I got to California I began submitting headshots. I auditioned for some student films and got some parts but not nothing else. By the fall I realized I had neither the drive nor the talent to be a successful actor. I wasn’t terribly heartbroken. I tried and it didn’t work out. I accepted the failure but was left with a creative void. I needed to find a new pursuit. 3:09pm hanging out at the activity center, picking up where I left off. I decided I was going to be a writer. It wasn’t too much of a reach. Starting years earlier in seminary I had written some stories and started a novel. In fact I had just finished an autobiography of my youth titled “The Journey and the Destination.” In the moment I was happy. Writing was my new identity. This is noteworthy because it was during what I consider the most vibrant period of my life i.e. the time I was a hospice chaplain. In reality being a hospice chaplain was not my career choice. It was the job I did to support myself while I wrote. I loved being a chaplain. I cherish the time but I identified as a writer more than a chaplain. Just saying that reduces my anxiety. It changes how I approach work and purpose. For so long I have viewed my situation as facing a choice between sales/operations or being a chaplain. In reality I am facing a choice between sales/operations and writing. I know who I am, what I want to be. I want to be a writer. I am a writer. I simply realize I can’t expect writing to produce sustainable income. So the question I ask is, “What do I want to do to support myself while I write?”

Why write

It is 11:38am. I am still on the apartment. I have had a weird headache all morning. I took some medicine but it hasn’t helped much. Thinking about writing. What do I write for? What do I hope to accomplish? I have all day to get something done. But I have tried in the past and nothing materialized. Add writing to the pile of things I want a new perspective on.