Tag: Writing

Writing exercise

5:54am (just a writing exercise) As I drove to work it struck me I hadn’t called Peter last night. I sort of forgotten until I was nearly to the office but as I pulled up I remembered. He couldn’t have been too happy waiting for me to reply but what could I do? In the first place there wasn’t much to report and second he wasn’t available until late in the evening.

Palm desert

8:54am this morning on the drive from Phoenix to palm desert you had a great experience. The landscape reminded you of the drive from wendover back to Salt Lake City. You remembered Saturday’s in the fall, driving out to wendover, reading the newspaper and making bets on football games. then driving back listening to game highlights on the radio. You remembered how content and happy you were on those drives. That made you think about how when this job ends you will accept it. Then you thought about getting another job. When you think about getting a sales/operations job your energy feels like poison. When you think about writing/chaplain or something new it feels pure. You are on the right track. You love these Saturday morning drives to see your daughter. Stopping to get coffee and donuts. Listening to music and books on tape. you are happy today.

Letter

5:49am Dear Mike, if you are reading this in the future you want to know what I am thinking, feeling, experiencing on this particular day. 6:06am I stopped writing this post for a moment. I had to think. If I am writing something that only future me would see I would share things I keep hidden from other people. Things that would really remind me what I am going through on this day. But sharing those things beyond a letter to only future me could be potentially awkward. Everyday I do weird things. I have thoughts about intimacy and sex. I have interactions with people I don’t mention. I leave all that stuff out because I don’t want people like my wife, my daughter, my mom or the WIL to know about them. But that is what I am going through. That is who I truly am. How do I reconcile writing honestly for myself and others? I am quiet. I am reserved. I am in a position of leadership. I have been a spiritual counselor. How would people react if they knew I had a “dark” side? That I have desires? I feel secretive, deceptive, dishonest. Do all people have things they hide and would be embarrassed if people found out?

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.

Tired of work

6:55am I am tired of thinking about and writing about work. I looked at other jobs and even applied for one today. I had another nurse call off. That means Three of four triage nurses are out. My clinical director is out. Another nurse turned in her resignation yesterday. I have never seen a program meltdown like this.

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?”