On Emotional Honesty, Priorities, and Being True to One's Self

It always seems that the more I have on the agenda for work on a given day, the more I actually feel like writing something of my own instead. A blog entry, usually, or a bunch of shorter social media updates... but occasionally a snippet of a longer story, a piece of flash fiction, or a poem. Usually, I react to those thoughts the way I was taught to -- by telling myself I need to get "the important stuff" out of the way first and then if I have time later on, I can spend what's left of my energy doing things I actually want to do.

The trouble with that approach to writing is that nothing expressive or passionate ever actually gets written. There's always something else to do that "needs" to get done or that society would label as more important. By the time I get to the point in my day when I'm out of things to do, it's the wee hours of the morning and I'm exhausted, not only physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. The last thing I want to do at that point is write some more.

In fact, I'm constantly wondering if maybe that "work first, play later" is actually the wrong approach. For me, anyway. It certainly feels like the wrong one. One of these days, maybe I'll learn that it's OK to be someone that makes decisions based on how they feel and not how good they look on paper or how many of the right people sign off on them. When I just allow myself to give the first hour or two of my writing day to something that I'd actually like to write, I don't resent having to work as much as I normally do. I resent the need to earn money less, since it no longer encroaches upon my self expression.

On Obstacles and Goals for 2013

Wow, I can't believe that yet another year has been and gone. This realization never seems to get easier to deal with for some reason. I'm sure I'm not alone in this, but I always tend to look back on the year in review, feel like I didn't accomplish very much, and wonder where the hell all the time went. How could I have been as busy as I was -- and really, I'm always busy -- yet not feel like I made any real progress?

Occasionally, it occurs to me that I'm probably keeping myself busy focusing on the wrong things and that's why I feel the way I do around New Year's every year. I always fall into a very well-defined trap, especially professionally. I start feeling like the best way to gain the sense of accomplishment and well being I want most is to focus on earning more money. Money -- at least in theory -- buys you choices, freedom, and wiggle room. I feel like people need more of those things in order to feel happier and to have more time to pursue their real dreams and goals. However, the process of earning money takes up the lion's share of your time and energy, so ironically you never actually get what you were after in the first place.

That's totally what happened to me this year. I wanted to earn more money so that I could afford more and I did that. I was able to pay my bills more easily, as well as pay for a lot of things that my loved ones and I needed. However, I didn't accomplish any of the things that were the most important to me. I wanted to try to reclaim my creativity at least a little bit this year and produce at least two or three pieces I felt were good enough to send out to some publications I have my eye on. I also wanted to get off the computer at least somewhat regularly, get out more, eat out more, go to more local events, and make some memories.

Summer Musings and Some Photos

Monterey Scottish Games and Celtic Festival 2012

It's a curious thing, getting older. Especially when it comes to things like the passing of the seasons. I remember when I was a kid, summers -- or any season, for that matter -- seemed positively endless. Now that I'm older, I get what my parents and the adults I knew in general meant when they talked about the way things would change as I aged. "One day, time will just start spinning by and you won't have a clue what happened."

Me as I looked on July 7th of this year.

OK, yes. I get it now. I'll be 37 years old on my next birthday  and at this point weeks, months, or even years fly by like they're on speed or something. It's easy for me to lose track of time, especially since I am so terribly busy these days. I've never sought to be a busy person, per se, as I've always preferred it when life moves at a leisurely pace. However, I suppose this is something else that just happens when you're an adult.

Somehow, I did find myself with a serious relationship, a family, and something that really does look an awful lot like a career the way that everyone else did. I love it despite the fact that it still feels as if I'm a child who is merely playing at being an adult... but it keeps me busy and it keeps outside of my own head a lot. I'm not sure that's always the best thing for me as a writer and an artist, but it is what it is. I'm still very much in the process of making adjustments there.