Summer 2001 - It's mildly disconcerting to have to give a name to a piece in order to
save it to the harddrive. I don't know what this is yet and i don't like
calling it something before I know what it is. Sort of like deciding on
a baby's name before I know whether it's a boy or a girl. Well, maybe
not at all anything like that. With a baby it's a fifty-fifty decision,
plus there are all the names that fit both.
They say...
if you're more interested in the font, then your
not a very good writer. Same could be said for reading, I suppose, being
more interested in the texture and color of the paper, the printing and
all that....
Communication is a very difficult thing. Especially for me. Not that it's any more difficult for me just because I say so; I'm just willing to say it out loud that I'm not very good and communicating. What?! might say those who read what I write. It takes four hours to write something this long. But in person, in the vocal exchange of conversation I think
I present myself in such a way that most people don't take me very seriously.
And that's has worn on me quite a bit, especially lately. Being at Evergreen
[was] extremely difficult because of the age factor. the more i think about
it, the more I realize that i depend too much on other people's reactions
to determine who I am or what i'm doing.
Every time I put myself out there, in any sense, i'm waiting for a reaction;
a vallidation. instead of testing out my own ideas in action, i'm feeling
them out through other people.
Why do i do that?
It's so easy for me to talk about personal independance with those who
need to hear it. I had a great conversation with Amy the other day, spewing
forth everything I thought she needed to hear about how i see her at this
point in her life. But why can't I talk to myself the same way? Why can't
I hear myself when I'm talking about those things? Is it because when
I do talk, it's only so i don't have to think about myself? ...There's a
thought.
How can I get myself to apply all the theories of life
that I've constructed.
Driving somewhere one day, a strange idea struck me. I don't take myself
seriously. And that thought has been repeating over and over in my head
for the past several days. Every time i turn on the TV instead of opening
a book; every time i give in to the cookies and ice cream in the middle
of thenight; everytime I find my mind totally blank in the middle of the
night, the thought occures to me that i'm not taking myself seriously.
When the A.D.D. kicks in after a half-hour, of reading or writing, I decide
all too easily that i've made enough effort and can take a break. Then
I won't touch it again for days. Of course no one else takes me seriously.
How can they when I'm not taking myself seriously?
It's a hard thing to look myself in the mirror with my head up my ass.
The first thing i need to learn is to relax without letting go; to ease
myself back with i get too wound up, but without disengaugeing.
...like right now, I have the sudden urge to to quite, get up and walk
around, but i know i won't come back to this if i distract my self with
something else.
Cow Girl is batting a wine cork across the linoleum, squeezing herself
under the shelf rack, tromping through the food dishes against the wall.
But i've played with them enough tonight. The whole idea of setting up
a writing space over here at my sister's place is to write without the
pleasurable distractions of the home house. i still want to know who's
on Dave tonight; or if jay will do the street quiz today. And will Bill
Mahar be watchable tonight? maybe i can take a look, cuz my wrists are
getting a bit tight. And i know this is a lot more fun than sitting around
watching TV wishing i had something to write. (I wonder how many other
"serious" writers sit around 'talking' to themselves like this...)
Something i started to do about a year ago as part of my cognitive therapy
was thinking of myself and how i wanted to be remembered by other at the
end of my life. I wondered if that was such a positive process of thought
to recommend to depressed people. it worked for a day.
I could imagine all the things i wanted to be by the time I grow old,
but i could not imagine how the hell i was going to accomplish any of
it. I had a grand view of the forest, but I couldn't pick out a single
tree in it. At that time I wish i'd thought beyond scratching out of my
hole; more about what paths were going to help me reach my goals.
I was sitting in the office the other day listening from another
room to Angela and Rachel reciting their personal goals for the company. I couldn't
hear every word said (i was trying to concentrate on what was in front
of me, trying not to be annoyed that they hadn't asked me to sit in).
nonetheless I walked all the way home that afternoon with a good sense
of what they were doing - for themselves and for the people around them.
It must have been that afternoon that I started thinking about what it
means - after claiming goals and dreams and intention - when someone really
begins to take themselves seriously.
After all is said and done on this planet, I'm the only one that i have
to answer to. Will I be able to look back and feel proud that I'd honored
my own life as well as the lives around me? Will I have taken this life
seriously and have made the most of it? I sure want to; yet what a terrible
challenge to overcome the fear of not knowing what to do. All my life
i've grown with the notion that those who have grown before me know best.
What a steamin' pile!
perhaps there are those here and there who are able to look back with
clear and honest eyes and remember, not the decisions made, or which answers
are right or wrong, but what it felt like at the point of realization
that our heros are mortal; our guides are as lost as any of us; and the
gods don't live in the clouds, but are staring back at us everyday.
My guess being as good as anyone's (probably better than anyone's when
it comes to my own), taking myself seriously begins with describing what
i want to do with my life and how i want to make that happen. Easier said
than done. When i think of myself ten years from now, the most pleasant
image that comes to mind is one of me sitting in a small, cozy office,
with a small staff of people thinking of new movies, and documentaries,
thinking of exciting ways to tell stories.
I'd like to be a producer of media that get people to think about their
lives. i suppose it doesn't have to be my own company, but i'd like to
have a say in what goes on. Years ago when an acting coach asked his class
what they wanted to be, after everyone else answered movie star,
or director or even something as plain as good, I felt very
small, as if my answer didn't really count when I said an influence.
