Fall Seven Rise Eight

Recently, I was given a gift from a friend to honor my courage and creativity. They believe that my posting of my creations takes courage. No, not really. It’s more about proving I did something for myself. But…I am weak. I have moments where I honor myself and create art. Moments where I feed my soul. However, those moments are few. I haven’t gone to the art studio in months. The majority of my time is spent battling the demons in my head.

The voices of the demons are loud. They beat me with the constant waves of shame and lack. I am not enough. I have failed my children. My home looks like I am a hoarder in training. I haven’t planned the meals or shopped for groceries. I have not done all that I should for my family. I am incompetent because I cannot do it all. If I choose my art and feeding my soul, then I am a failed wife and mother. Those are jobs that I agreed to so I can NOT abandon them. Therefore, I, myself, must be last.

I know other women battle the same fight. Just today, The Huffington Post posted a debate on “Can Women Have it All?” On a personal note, my friend, Raychel from Reasons Like Season, states “I do not know how to manipulate how I perceive time and my own shortcomings or how to find more peace within myself.” She says it so nicely. I’m not that nice to myself.

My internal critic bashes all my attempts to do things for myself. I have too many responsibilities. I am the keeper. The house will never be clean; the laundry will never be done; my children need me constantly. The bottom line is that I do not believe myself to be worthy of self-care because I am incompetent in completing my responsibilities. I am not worthy. I have not earned the right to take time for myself. The work must be done. It must be completely done or I will be stealing from my family.

Right now I am drowning in those voices. They are winning. They have knocked me to my knees. I will need to regroup and claw my way to standing. I know it will take some time. I have been in this rodeo before. It will take meditation and courage to gather my shattered strength, but I will rise again. In my soul, I know that the voices are false. I know that they lie. I know that I am doing the best that I can. Still I have a bit of a tear in my ear and lump in my throat because you should never speak it. Never let the friends see your weakness. Today the voices hold me down. So today I will do the best that I can. I will accomplish something (laundry and dinner are good).

When I get tired and the voices get loud, I can’t drown them out with my positive thoughts. The waves of self-criticism crash against my strength of purpose and I lose my footing. Today I am under those waves. Fall Seven Rise Eight. Tomorrow is a new day and I shall rise. I will silence the voices-or at least make them turn that volume down.

Wish me luck. Keep me in your thoughts and Dear Raychel-I will keep you in mine.

Sidetracked

So, it’s been a month. I know it was December and the holidays, but that is just an excuse. I found all kinds of things to sidetrack me from my writing progress. First off, in decorating for the holidays, I found some old writing hidden away. Some of it was actually pretty good and worth working on so…I stopped working on the novel. I was having trouble battling that critic. Last I posted the novel was: “I’ll keep you posted. Word count: 20,141.” Now, the word count it 20,632. Yep, still hitting the wall on that one.

But the things I found were so amazing. I can actually turn a phrase now and again. Then my critic says-no you suck. Okay, what did I find all tucked away in a binder. I found several books in progress: A Life Planner Journal, Personal Essays on Being an Imperfect Mother, a picture book: Bubbles Everywhere and my articles on birthing. What a gold mine-right! Shut up critic. It’s not your turn.

I started December by working on my found book: Life Planner Journal. I know and it was pretty complete. I finished retyping it into word. Now it just needs an edit, the sample documents, and some images uploaded. As I type this, I feel that inner critic. Who are you to help people with a planner? Why should anyone listen to you? You don’t have it all organized. You don’t stick to your plan. You missed New Year’s deadline you set yourself so you FAILED. I know, but isn’t that the point. It’s all a process. I didn’t fail. I worked and let the critic slow me down. So I switched gears. I’ll come back to this one soon.

Right now, New Year’s Day, I’m working on putting that huge document on Imperfect Mothering into the computer where I can figure out what goes where and where to begin the edit. It’s a jumble of topics. It is in desperate need of an edit, but all in good time. The first thing is to get an electronic copy. (I know I have a hard copy. These documents are from 2000 or so. Only the universe knows what computer they were originally typed or where a backup might be or on what media-disc anyone?) So away I type. Some of it is good. Most of it is crap, but an edit and more personal story will fix that right up. Oh and see me procrastinate. I’m writing to you, dear reader. The printed copy sits to my left starting at me with the date 6/17/2002 as the print out date. I think there are a few separate books in it. I just have to decide on categories. Or maybe I have to sort for chapters. I don’t know yet and that is okay. I don’t have to know right now. I’m rediscovering the life I had with wee boys.

The picture book is a story. I actually sent it out once upon a time to agents and publishers. Yes, I was brave- once upon a time. The thing that I found amazing was that one publisher actually sent it back. They paid for that. There was a personal note-not a form letter. Why did I stop? Oh right, that inner critic. Well, I can start back up where I left off. I have all the photos. I have the story. I can make a new book and send it out or just publish it myself on kindle. So there.

I think I’ll stop procrastinating and get back to it.

Happy New Year! May it be a productive and happy one. 2015 will be a great year.

Progress of Sorts

I have been writing fairly religiously on my National Novel Writing Month project. I find that I rarely hit the average word count needed each day to finish on time. (The program shows when I'll finish which will be sometime early next year if I keep to my current rate.) Shut up and write on the novel. Procrastinating here. Yes, yes, I am.

So what am I to do? Baby steps! Keep showing up to the page-of course. If I need baby steps, I will take baby steps. I am feeling the whole internal critic thing happening. That critic, Mrs. Olson, keeps saying that I don't have a story. I have nothing to say. I feel the crush of the negative and fight to keep returning to the page. The only way to tell if there is a story is to actually finish. Don't give up. When you go through hell keep on going...You can make it through to the other side. You really don't know what you have until you put it away for awhile and then return to it.

In looking back over my previous year's work, I see that some of them are actually going somewhere. I could finish them and they might actually be worth editing. If I actually finish a novel or two, that might silence the critic for a day or two before she thinks of another way to attack me...oh I can hear her now. (So what you finished 50,000 words-no one's going to read it) My response will be: How do you know? I can put the work out there for people to see and then I'll know.

Here's to showing up to the page and continuing to believe in my own creativity. See you on the page.

Love and Light!

Kill your Critic

We all start out so powerful. As children, we have to be taught to be ashamed or that we are bad at something. A toddler has unbounded courage and belief in themselves. If they didn’t have it, how would they ever learn to walk? Can you imagine if they had that internal critic voice? Oh no, I can’t do this. I’m going to fail. I’ll never get any better at walking. I should just give up right now and sit back down. – Never. They fall down and get right back up until they are running. Imagine what we could accomplish if we never internalized the critic.

How does this happen to us? When does it all go wrong? We aren’t born this way.

I don’t remember how it all started for me. I’m sure that you can’t remember that first instance of the voice either, but I do remember one person in particular. She had a strong effect on my self-image. She was a teacher after all. From her I learned that I was not an artist. Wow. Right. For decades I believed her.

From Julia Cameron and The Artist’s Way, I learned that she was my critic and I must kill her-metaphorically speaking. A part of that recovery was making a picture of her-crazy scary looking huh. But that is how I see her with that fake orange dyed hair and always frowning. Telling everyone what they are doing wrong without acknowledging the effort or idea. I do have some compassion for her as time goes past. Maybe she was criticized. Maybe she was a failed artist and couldn’t see the worth of others as being valuable. Okay maybe she was just an evil ‘B’. Who knows what she is…. I followed the path and don’t allow her to shape my self-image. She played into my fear (False evidence appearing real).

Still be on the lookout for these critics. They are all around you. They show up in your life to pour their negativity over your joy in being creative. Have you heard them? They say things like why are you writing a novel? You’ll never sell it. You’ll never make money at that. No one would ever pay you for that sculpture. They place it into the framework of being concerned about you. They worry for you. No, for personal reasons that you may never know, they want to dump a wet blanket over your dreams.

Kill them. Remove them from your circle of trust. If they do it once, maybe try them again. If they do it twice, STOP sharing with them. They are not worthy. Share with people who support you. People who will tell all their friends how wonderful and brave you are. Creativity and art do not require that others pay for it. All that is required is that it feeds your soul. Feed yourself and watch your skill and creativity grow.

The Man in the Arena

    “The Man in the Arena” is quoted every year on my son’s wrestling banquet program. I love that the coach is praising the attempt. He speaks to the courage it takes to be on a wrestling team. While it is a team sport, it is only you and your opponent on the mat. All eyes are on you. You stand or fall alone.

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blodd; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”

Theodore Roosevelt

Excerpt from the speech “Citizen in a Republic”

April 23, 1910

   
   I think that the stand or fall is true for all of us-no matter what we do. Some of us take the stand and go out into that arena. We try and try again. For artists and authors, our arena is just as public as those wrestlers. We stand up and say look here is my effort. It is so hard to remember that it is not the critic who places value onto your work. You must have the fortitude to know that everyone sees things differently and that critic may not see your way. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. One person may point out the faults and the next may praise your work.

    How do you feel about your effort? Does it speak to you? Are you proud? Do you love your art? You should have enthusiasm, love, and devotion to the art that you make. It is an outlet for your creativity. Never let the fear of a critic stand in your way. Remember you are not a timid soul who hides in the crowd. You had the courage to place yourself front and center. You stand in the harsh light. You have taken a risk. Raise your head with pride and return to the arena. Never give up; never surrender.