Yes week

My journey of coming into my own as a parent in the Northwest has felt not unlike what I imagine it would be like to train for a marathon in higher altitudes. There are so many days when I think, it'd be so much easier for me to do this in the Bay Area - easier weather on me and the kids, and the support of family.

But then there are days I look up (or maybe slow down) and realize that all my effort and striving is actually providing sweeter fruit. And I am stronger for having worked harder at this thing called life.

I so resonated with my friend Christine's recent post, where she talked about slowing down being the perfect (if not unexpected) antidote to the stress of busyness.

Parenting a two- and four-year old feels relentless most days (especially when observed from the span of a week, or a month, or a year), so when I find those moments when I manage to sink deeper into the mess of whatever is that moment, or better yet, when I can contribute to that mess in my own way, I actually find that the time passes more quickly. Or is it rather that the passage of time ceases to matter so much? We're just here, fully in this moment.

We fell/flowed into a pretty creative groove this week. It may have started when my friend Kayla texted me this how-to draw your own mandala blog post.

When the kids were out with David on a quick errand, I brewed myself a cup of ginger turmeric tea, borrowed a compass from Kathy, and got started on the template.

Half an hour into it, the kids ran in and wanted to join me. We keep art supplies somewhat reachable for them whenever they want, so they both climbed up and started their own projects. I didn't say anything about what I was doing, so it was fascinating to see Emilyn draw her circles. Theo noticed the compass and wanted me to show him how to use it. His first drawing here is within those penciled circles, and his next one is completely his own creation.

Another day I had had some weird time block to fill, so I cut up a cereal box into a puzzle - the front panel into 12 pieces for Theo, and the back into 6 pieces for Emilyn. They were occupied for a solid 25 minutes.

And then just today I made some playdough. They have been loving it at other people's houses (you know, where the nice moms live). I'm not a huge fan (who is?) but today I felt like making it. I had some old whole wheat flour that was going a little stale (lol) so I guess I made hippie playdough.

It made me happy dance inside to see Theo with it. First of all, he helped me with mixing and kneading it, and then when I came back upstairs from waking Emilyn up, I saw that he had split the dough into two piles, placing one of them in front of a chair for his sister.

First, Theo made a snowman. (If you look closely above, you can see a snowman with a tiny head and no midsection.)

Next, he opened up a soup/noodles/dumpling shop and asked me what I wanted from the "calendar" (menu). He then asked if I wanted it "hand shaved" (as opposed to hand cut, the other option available at King Noodle).

Finally, he started rolling balls of cookie dough, so that his customers could "enjoy it." I was most impressed by the uniformity of his balls. I think he's learned from watching Kathy bake.

***

When I talked to my counselor today I was trying to figure out why exactly this spontaneous week of creativity was so life-giving for me as their mom. I figured out that it's because I got to create as well, not just set them up for creating. I got to draw, and so I cared less about what they did (and yet they blew me out of the water with their drawings). I got to make playdough and so it didn't matter how much they enjoyed the playdough. I cut up the puzzle using stuff we already had and which was going to the recycling bin anyway.

It's a little like what Dave Ramsey refers to as happy-happy situations - happy if it works out and happy if it doesn't. I didn't spend a million dollars or buy products with tons of packaging.

I recently listened to a podcast where they talked about a "yes hour" - when you actually say yes to your kids instead of the usual no along with the litany of excuses why not. It can be such a good reset. And while I did not tell any people under the age of 5 that we are having a "yes week" I think I have succeeded in shaking things up.

***

Closing randoms:

Kendra of The Lazy Genius has been killing it lately with her podcasts. Her recent two series on routine and summer have inspired and guided me.

Also really blessed by Emily P. Freeman's podcast The Next Right Thing. (Maybe listen from the beginning?? Recent memorable episodes are number 25 and 34.)

Made these raspberry yogurt popsicles last week. It's the second time I've made them and I was still weirded out by the Pepto-Bismol look of them when you're blending it up. But it freezes beautifully. If you have a Vitamix I recommend not trying to blitz the seeds to pieces or else they won't go through the strainer as well and you'll end up with even more seediness. Third time's the charm, I guess. (Also, Molly says she reduces the sugar from 3/4 cup down to 1/2 cup now. Go with your gut, I've done both.)

(Last year's post on popsicles. And have I not yet posted about golden milk popsicles??)

Mango sticky rice is always a good idea.

Everything in its place

My kid desk (but "corner office" with a window!) that has worked for 5 years.

You know how when organizing your home, people always say to make sure you have "a place for everything, and everything in its place"?

During Morning Pages on Wednesday I had this random thought. We know this principle as it pertains to stuff, but what about in the way we spend our time?

As you know from all my posts, I have been working hard to carve out space and time for "creative" pursuits. But honestly, it sometimes feels rigid to say I must do morning pages in the mornings, and I must work on my blog in the afternoons.

But I can also see that if I don't make "a home" to work on writing, then other, less-fulfilling things will inevitably fill in those pockets of time.

Before this recent energy around producing/creating/doing, I think I inadvertently spent a lot of my time trying to stay on top of the dishes as a way to feel successful about my day. Hint: I can never keep up, I will never win the battle.

So, technically, as I am now using less of my time cleaning up (perhaps the cleaning is now more consolidated to the evenings, once David is home, ha), my house is actually not that much worse for the neglect - it was already bad - and now I'm using what limited free time I have to create, and create stuff that no one is going to undo (but maybe myself).

I still only have 168 hours a week. But using a few of these hours each week specifically for creativity has filled a place in my spirit which more than makes up for the sinking feeling I would experience when I looked at how un-picked up our house was.

It's weird; the mess is still there, but it doesn't matter as much anymore.

Creating art and living out art has become more important than the blank canvas I use to covet.

David brought up this desk that we built (!) together when we first got married because there was no room for an office in our one-bedroom apartment. Now we are using it again to create a living room office.

This season of diving into blogging/writing without a defined plan - but with clear discipline - feels very different for me. I'm trying to focus more on input than output, but I am, of course, anxious to see how things will turn out. In the meantime, I shall keep plugging along, trying my best to remain open and curious.

Something tells me that if I follow inspiration, it will follow me.

***

And now for the randoms:

1. A new (to me) writer/blogger whose writing is inspiring.
2. An interesting article David sent me on happiness.
3. Tsh Oxenreider's "On Making Friends and Partial Solutions"
4. This looks good, and, as I've already asked Stephanie, can someone please make this for me already? (And Happy Chinese New Year!)
5. Did you know about the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows? Found this through encountering the word "sonder" somewhere.

Be the boss of myself

The other day I received a thoughtful gift, but because of my new life philosophy of not keeping things unless I love them, even (or especially) if they were free or gifted.

It was a super thoughtful gift, something that's useful for a particular thing I actually really enjoy, but I didn't want to own this object; it only served a few purposes, and I didn't particularly care for the aesthetic.

The item was about $36 and Amazon was going to charge me $6 for the return shipping if I used the UPS label they provide. It sucked to see that deduction, so I dilly-dallied for a moment, considering the pay-my-own-shipping route, or figuring out another way to off-load this gift in an "economical" way. After letting myself analyze for about one to two minutes, I cut myself off and told myself that I needed to "be the boss of myself." 

As part of this new season of my life, I'm trying to act the way I want to feel. Sitting in front of the screen, I said to myself, "In this moment, I'm going to act like my time is worth $100/hr." I didn't want to spend any more of my precious time debating how to minimize the $6 loss of returning it. If I spent even two minutes on the thinking, and my time is worth $100/hr, that was $3.33 right there. If I spent even two more minutes debating, I would have exceeded the perceived $6 loss I was trying to avoid.

And this was for a gift that I didn't spend any money buying in the first place. I felt so grown up being able to:

1) Receive the gift with gratitude.

2) Decide quickly to return it because I didn't want/need it.

3) Let myself do my analyzing thing. I can't help myself.

4) Stop myself from doing my analyzing thing for too long. .

5) Move on with life.

Ultimately I chose to value my life more than money. 

One of the paradoxes of adulthood is the concept of being the boss of yourself, which necessarily means you are both the boss and the one being bossed around. 

Is this hard or is this easy?

When you're the boss of yourself you can do handstands at home. #leanagainst

Prompts for the Studious, or, A shameless call for comments:

1) What are your thoughts on the concept of waiting for permission?

2) What do you want right now in life that you are waiting for permission for?
3) What are some paradoxes you're pondering?
4) Anything else that stuck out to you?
5) Can you tell that I used to be a Bible study leader for a campus ministry?

More from me:

• Being your own best friend
• Being your own therapist

15. Everything and nothing

Today I have everything and nothing to say.

I'm starting to get to the point where I want to be done with this project so I can reboot with a new one. At the same time, I am wondering what principles I should carry into the next project, because I think there are some valuable aspects, such as the aspect of accountability through publicly declaring a project. May it never be said of me that I don't follow through on my commitments. (Oof, what does that say about me?)

One of the major concepts I'm experiencing within this project is Einstein's tactic of "combinatory play," which I first heard referenced in Liz Gilbert's Big Magic. It's the notion that when you're stuck, engaging yourself in some other way and might help you get unstuck. This could be something simple like going for a walk, or it could be taking up a different artistic hobby.

"I don't sweat the small stuff. Instead, I lump it together with the big and medium things so I can have a major breakdown instead." --Abbyhasissues.com

I don't think I realized how stuck I was in life and in general until I painted our bed white earlier this year, which led to us doing the The Purge, which gave me the mental capacity and energy to sign up for a writer's workshop, which led me to authors and to Inspiration, which led me to this project, which I already feel is leading me to a lot of other paths of unstuckness.

In fact, the subject of my first workshop essay was the painting of our originally black bed. One day after Kathy helped me tidy up our room I was inspired to get rid of the darkness once and for all. (Our room gets the most light in the house and yet it was so depressing because of our black furniture. No bueno in a very grey city.) I wrote about how I just dove in without much prep or planning but that just doing it was way better than not. And now, six months later, I see that that little step - done but not perfect - made a huge impact on how I'm feeling today. It's a lesson for me, to consider the things that are bothering me the most in my life - even if they may seem like insignificant things - and do something to change it, without being afraid to mess up.

This, too, is related to the idea mentioned before of creating your vocation/vacation. As well as the idea of not only being your own best friend, but also being your own therapist. I need to engage myself, ask myself what's bothering me, what do I want my life to look like, and how do I get there.

***

Random: One possible negative of my meditating on thoughts of creativity and non-conformity is that I'm starting to question a lot of the rules I impose on my kids. I try to give choices as many times as I can throughout the day, although obviously they are bounded choices. "I am their mom, not a cruise director." (I can't stop chuckling at that. I also can't figure out who said that first. Someone thought Tina Fey, which sounds right, but I can't prove it on the Internetz so it's not verified.) So I'm going to not let the possible paradigm shifts steer me too much; my sanity is more important than that, for the time being. My kids shall keep conforming to the conventions I set for them, says this mom, aka the benevolent dictator.

***

P.S. A few of you have asked how having kids affects my perspective on decluttering/simplicity. I definitely think it feels hard to get rid of things that I think *might* benefit my kid (one day), but in the bigger picture, but I'm learning that having less stuff to tidy or less stuff to make sure my kids aren't getting hurt on ends up freeing me up to have more time and energy for my kids, which is a good thing. See this article from a slightly different angle that I think makes the same argument.

P.P.S. FYI I brushed up on the recipe page a bit and it's more comprehensive now. Food is another way of engaging "combinatory play" - I need to make and post more recipes!

12. Finding your vacation

My favorite non-conformists.

"It is fun to have fun but you have to know how." --The Cat in the Hat

When I was at Berkeley I took a deCal (extracurricular course) called "Finding Your Vocation," taught by a Dave Evans, whom I now see is at Stanford (almost typed something different but then thought better of it, Alex). We were provided a lot of interesting readings but the thing I have not forgotten is from the first day when everyone went around and shared why they signed up for the class. No joke, after half the group had shared, one girl said, "Oh my gosh. I thought this class was called 'Finding your vacation.'" The collective embarrassment felt in the room for her was visceral.

Today, however, I am starting to see the convergence between vocation/vacation.

Super convoluted but here goes: The process of decluttering our home ala KonMari precipitated a ruthless examination of my life/mind/spirit/psyche. Every segment we did was really dreadful but then at the end we could stand back and feel so happy. Now that we've completed a significant amount, I look at different sections of our house that have been Konmari'd, feel giddy, and think, "This is our vacation home." (David, I was tempted to insert a parenthetical "becoming." Lolz.)

The paradigm shift for me was "Why can't our home be our vacation home?" When I think about vacation, the aspect I love most about it is not sightseeing or going out and doing things, but lounging around with nothing to do and without many of my possessions around me, save for the things needed to cook a yummy meal, and maybe a book or two.

In The Art of Non-Conformity (I'm on the last hour of the audiobook now), Guillebeau also suggests the exercise of writing out what your ideal day would look like. I need to do that soon and figure out how to bring alignment between my current reality and my ideal reality. It is probably going to involve figuring out how I can go swimming more often. (Christine, why aren't we neighbors?)

I think I've been waiting for my vocation to drop in my lap from the sky; now I'm beginning to realize that perhaps I can take the bull by the horns and create/curate my life/home into my vocation/vacation.

***

This recent joy of creativity has been a life saver for me. After a long season of feeling socially, mentally, and spiritually dry, I'm tucking "creativity" away as a tool I need to remember when I'm feeling stuck. I love the phrase "your childhood solutions become your adult problems" (HT: Carol Johnston of First Pres Berkeley Stephen Ministry fame). I think what it's saying to me now is that there's a good and valid reason why we may do things for a long spell or season. But when it stops working, you can move on and figure out something else. My old ways of seeing and knowing God and understanding the world, and the church, and so many other things? Just because they aren't working doesn't mean God isn't there. (Ohhhhhhhh I'm getting to that deep stuff. And I'm gonna stop here before I cry. #toolate What a friggin' long grieving process this is.)

If I remove the scaffolding of fears I have set up for myself, will faith be there to catch me?

***

So tell me, what is your ideal vocation/vacation?

10. Do the impossible

Halfway there. Is this what it feels like to run a marathon? I am so proud of myself for my accomplishments and yet I also cannot wait for this to be over. (Well, not exactly. I do feel like there's something about this discipline I want to continue; I just mean that I can't wait to reach and complete my goal. I am a compulsive goal-reacher.)

“You go through big chunks of time where you’re just thinking, ‘This is impossible — oh, this is impossible.’ And then you just keep going and keep going, and you sort of do the impossible.” —Tina Fey

I have been super encouraged by so many of you sharing your thoughts via comments, emails, or even text messages. So grateful for my community that is meeting me where I'm at. I leaped, and the net appeared.

I've written a lot already ("a lot" is relative, of course) but I continue to feel that I'm dancing around the edges of what I really need to say. Yes, maybe there are "vulnerable" and "real" things I will get to eventually - the deeper you go, the more universal you get? - but I also want to exercise the concept of embracing where I am, even if it's not where I think I ought to be.

One of the things that I keep coming up against in my personal meta-dialogue (and there is SO MUCH meta-dialogue) is the idea that I have nothing new to say, and that people have already had these thoughts (if I would just Google), and worse, the people who have said these things are half my age and therefore how juvenile and behind-the-times I am.

When I started this project I was fueled by the words and voice of Elizabeth Gilbert, telling me that it doesn't matter what people think; or, even if you let those voices speak, what are you going to do, just nothing? The last thing I want to do is live my life a victim.

I wonder if part of the struggle is not just my 6-ness, but also my Asian American-ness. The whole idea of saying "I am _____" and filling in the blank is utterly terrifying. I am so many things and I don't know which is more scary: to name and settle on one thing, or to live in the undefined.

Philosophical question of the day: Do you get to decide the genre of your life?

***

The more I write and the more I read, the more I find things that are exactly what I'm thinking about. (Even Liz Gilbert mentions this in her book; she describes this as the universe giving you signs, portents; this is what I felt before Day Zero, and why I decided to keep going forward, even though it was scary and unknown.)

I am referring now to the wonderful, glorious, beautiful thoughts in Fault in Our Stars, and the nerdy, stick-it-to-The-Man-ness of The Art of Non-Conformity. I mentioned starting these books on Friday and have finished the first and am 80% through the other. Guillebeau mentions that sometimes deferred gratification can be a sort of life avoidance - saving up for a better future vs. enjoying life now. This balance (the fact that this paradox even exists) is exactly related to: (1) my thoughts on choosing sanity over money, (2) a lot of things about Konmari (editing your life and making joy out of what you have by getting rid of things you held on for a reason that was probably good at one point; living your best life now without over-focusing on the past or the future, and all this definitely needs its own post), and (3) my thoughts/reflections on the principles of Mr. Money Mustache (also probably another post). Going. to. explode.

***

I don't know where this fits so I'm just going to plop it here:

I have a history/pattern of ignoring my gut, which is, admittedly, yet another Enneagram 6 issue. I make decisions by fighting between my head and my heart, but the engagement of my gut is underdeveloped. (Except the food-eating type of gut. No issue there. I try to find the good food in every situation.)

***

Speaking of food, this:



Theo got this baby eggplant from our church's community garden yesterday. Today, out of nowhere, he went to his bookshelf and grabbed this book to show me a "match" between his eggplant and the book. We seriously hadn't read this book in months. I love how he inherited my crazy random associative memory. Insert heart eyes emoji.

09. Undone

Part of me wants to more closely examine what is sustaining this recent influx of creative energy, but the other part is embarrassed about what it's (I'm?) most likely going to find, because it's most likely The Internets. Like, really? So lame.

I guess this is really a humble brag. Because I am such an ideation and input person, I'd chosen for the longest time to resist/minimize technology lest it overtake my life. Also, six years ago when we first moved to a new city, I thought that instead of spending time on technology I would actually go and MEET PEOPLE, what a novel concept. That really didn't work so well. I don't know if it's me or the city but it's still hard to make friends here.

Surprisingly (that's a euphemism for depressingly), in recent months of dipping my toes into the waters of the aforementioned internets, I've found a lot of interesting and energizing ideas. Nursing has provided me hours of inspiration through e-books or Instagram, and I've been consuming podcasts and audiobooks while cleaning/folding laundry/walking. I have yet to be swept up into the ocean, although there are moments I still fear drowning.

(Sidebar: I recently heard two (and two is therefore ALL) super creative people mention that they love the internet because they are introverts and it allows them to feel connected without having to do it in person. I cocked my head in confusion when I heard that. I'm here on the other side as an extrovert saying, ohmygoodnesspleasebemyfriendi'llmakeyouanythingyouwanttoeatandwecanhangoutforever and youshouldprobablybringyourtoothbrushsoyoucanspendthenight and no one wants to be my friend! Okay, maybe not no one but sometimes it really feels that way. I sincerely apologize to the many people currently in my life who are being super gracious with me and extending friendship to me. End mini-rant.)

(And also. I should have made an analogy in my other post about wanting to gather/survey all the non-Facebookers. Instead of "Introverts unite! Separately, in your own home", I need something like, "non-Facebookers, come connect with me... on Xanga?")

I don't know what I'm trying to say here... Maybe that I'm disappointed that I initially chose to minimize engagement with and reliance upon technology in pursuit of Greater Fulfillment, but that in this point of my life, the internet seems to be a great tool in helping me achieve my goals?

Part of why I made a project out of blogging is not because I'm an introvert (I'm not) and I need to hide behind my computer but because I'm an external processor and I need to get my thoughts and feelings out so that I can feel normal. (And because David doesn't have all day to listen to be ramble, and because Kathy is going to hit me over the head if I mention the word "creativity" one more time.)

***

I'm thinking about the relationship between discipline and freedom (and my mind drifts back to Richard Foster, ah). Today I randomly recalled a quote I heard on a podcast episode where Robin Long shared one of her mantras, "Do the thing you need to do, to feel the way you want to feel." I love that; I think it encapsulates adulthood, which I'm finally starting to own (good thing, bad thing?), in the best sense. Yes, adults have to do lots of hard things, things we may not feel like doing. But adults have the power and freedom to pursue their own joy and happiness, too. Now if only I could figure out 1) what I need to do, and 2) how I want to feel. #youngersibling #enneagram6

So that's what I'm thinking about today, as I process and express myself like an angsty teenager would.

***

Also, currently: reading The Fault in Our Stars and listening to The Art of Non-Conformity.

Aaand, two diagrams that writing this post made me think of doing: 1) listing all the forms of communication/connection I prefer and in what order; 2) making a matrix of all my friends, local and long-distance, with their levels of introversion-extraversion and other personality traits.

So... leave a comment and sign off with your Myers-Briggs for me?



Housekeeping note: I started this post yesterday and am finishing today. I'm going to give myself grace and not make up an extra post. (Plus, the fact that I jumped around to a million different topics should count for something, right?) I think I will just keep plugging along until I've done 20 posts, somewhat following the month-long minus the weekends rule that I set up for myself in the beginning.

Do I contradict myself?

Very well then I contradict myself,

(I am large, I contain multitudes.)

--Walt Whitman

... 

(That ellipses there is supposed to signify that what comes after this parenthetical is like the secret track when you let your CD keep playing. Remember those?)

Okay, I really need to hit Publish, but I just found this: have you heard of quietism before?

07. (In)sanity

Is the intersection creativity?

Applying the Konmari method to our house has revealed many things to me about myself, but one of the things is the way in which I have settled for cheaper options to save money in the short term, using the principle of "the time value of money" as my justification. I had an "ah-ha" moment a couple of years ago when we had to buy a new dishwasher and I almost picked a $450 one vs. a $499 one, even though I hated the placement of the utensil rack in the cheaper machine. Kenny was there with us, and he asked me, "Lisa, do you want to compromise every. single. day?" Well, when you put it that way...

How do you quantify the worth of your sanity?

I came up with this thought a couple weeks ago and wrote it on the chalkboard above my desk.

But lately I've been thinking that I need to change that to "don't overvalue money or time; don't undervalue SANITY."

What do you think? Is anything I'm saying making sense to you guys? Or have I already lost my sanity??!?!

05. All quite comforting

Every day since this project began (i.e., these oh-so-dramatic last five days), I have had to resist the urge to begin every post by typing into the stratosphere, "I don't want to write. I don't want to write. I don't want to write." Liz Gilbert reminds me that it is simply boring to be a creative who complains about how frustrated she feels, because frustration is essential to the creative life. She also talks about how you don't have to be a creative and be a tormented, tragic person. It's all quite comforting.

A lot of what catapulted me into this project is the result of stewing and marinating in the cocktail that is reading Brené Brown's The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You're Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are and listening to Elizabeth Gilbert's Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear. (Prior to last month I did not know there was a genre for "Creativity" on Amazon. And now for the last few weeks I've been talking David's head off about creativity and the creative process and I'm sure he's like, Yeah, I went to school for this. #arsepoetica)

What I'm taking away from Gilbert's book (besides everything, obviously) is that creative living is a marriage between discipline - the only thing you can control among talent, luck, and discipline - and inspiration. (I'm paraphrasing here, but: "If greatness were to find me, may it find me hard at work.")

Being creative is a gift bestowed on all of us; however, actually creating is a choice. I appreciated how Gilbert acknowledges that having (or making) time to create is a complete and total luxury, but that perhaps instead of seeing creative living as hedonistic, we can instead perceive and then thus receive the ability to create as a divine gift.



P.S. Thank you, Eunice, for introducing me to Overdrive for e-books and audiobooks. It took me about a year to actually try it out but I'm loving it now! And thank you, Christine, for recommending the audiobook version for Gilbert. Totally the perfect medium; except for when I'm driving and I need to pull aside to write down something amazing she said.

04. Before I am anything else

If you've read any Anne Lamott, you are likely familiar with her notion of "[crappy] first drafts." What compelled me most in that essay when I first read it as an 11th grader was the idea that when you're struggling with a blank page out of fear of your inner critic, you should tell your inner critic to be quiet until there's actually something to critique. I needed that humor, that absurdity, to push me past the potential to the real. And while I can definitely relate to this concept when it comes to writing - just making yourself get that first draft out - I am wondering if this principle relates to my project at large as well.

I don't think this project/experiment is simply about me writing; it's about me having the courage to claim that I'm a creative--- which is to say that I'm a person, and a person with agency, and therefore someone with vulnerability. Simply by declaring that I'd do something for thirty days and share it, I am saying that I'm going to be a crappy first draft, before I am anything else.

There are so many ways in which I have spent the last I don't know how many years hiding in my mind, analyzing, holding back, being reserved, hiding from my own inner critic. But what was there to critique if I didn't do anything? So I'm wrestling now with the possibility that the real, the broken, and the imperfect could be better than the theoretical.

And that scares the crap out of me.

01. That notebook

Yesterday, our guest preacher Therin Fenner's opening metaphor was The Notebook of Middle School Girls circa 1997. You know, the spiral Mead notebook decoupaged with magazine cut-outs and the days' musings, which you would deposit in your friends' lockers? At one point I'm sure I had at least five of them going, each with a different friend. It didn't matter what I said, or how I said it; the point was just to write, and wait for her to write back.

That is the perfect metaphor for what I need right now.

I'm not ready for something like #The100DaysProject at the moment but I will attempt my own modification: writing and posting something here every day, for one month, weekends excluded. Without too much thinking or planning I'm going to dive in from today, August 8, 2016, to September 8, 2016. 

If you're lurking out there (I often see at least 15 page views on my posts), would you please drop a comment to let me know you're here? I hope you'll pass back the metaphorical notebook and let me know what you think today and in the next 30ish days. And if you want to jump in on your own creative venture, let me know about it as well!

***

Random (because random is the essence of The Notebook) thoughts on the picture above:

• Pictures at nighttime are considerably horrible. Other than obviously taking pictures in daylight, does anyone have simple/easy tips for pictures and/or even filters? I've been so low-tech in the last eight years that I feel slightly embarrassed to not know any of this. 
• "Just Start" is from Get To Work Book. It's the tear-out from January but I decided to use that with the August calendar taped onto it because it's just what I need. (I'm being creative!) Kathy was surprised to read that Enneagram 6's procrastinate. Oh boy, do we procrastinate. 
• I think all of my posts from the next month are going to mention something about me being the dreaded, horrible, tragic 6. You're probably going to want to vomit and/or stop reading my blog. So sorry. If you want to see into my soul, read this. 
• Yes, that is Eunice's beautiful calligraphy on my bulletin board.

#ohbrene, or, Day Zero

"There's no such thing as non-creative people. There are just people who use their creativity and people who don't. And unused creativity is not benign." -Brene Brown*

Hi!

It's the first Wednesday of August and I'm forcing myself to show up here again. When I mentioned a hiatus in my previous post, I had in mind that I'd be back in August. I need the discipline - or so I thought** - I need to show up. However the fact that I didn't say that publicly even though I knew the plan just goes to show how much I love to under-promise and over-deliver. I don't want to disappoint anyone, most of all me.

Last month I was part of an online writer's workshop. Intentionally engaging in the (a?) creative process for the first time in a long time was refreshing in the way that white water rafting is: that is to say, both nerve-wracking and exhilarating. During the ride I knew I would want to do it again, but only after a chance to dry off, warm up, and eat a huge meal.

I'm still reeling from everything I learned and everything that surfaced. And the experience of the workshop seemed to coincide with other creative ventures and conversations, so my head is swirling from ideas and inspirations as well as the many things for which I may need to see a therapist.

I feel like I'm on the precipice of something amazing and I don't know yet what that is, but I have a little feeling that it involves showing up here and writing more. I'm scared, though, to take those inspirations to intentions. I really didn't want this space to be about all that vulnerability crap (#brenebrownismyspiritanimal). I also need a space to be irreverent and irrelevant. But maybe it doesn't have to be one or the other. Maybe I can just be authentic. I'm a little freaked out by this idea but I think I need to do it.

This feels like a common thread for me, and those of you who know me well are probably nodding your heads, like "yup, I think we've been here before with you, Lis." "Here" being this: being okay with the process, not merely obsessing over being processed.

Well, that wasn't as word-vomit-y as I thought this was going to be! Still, enough vulnerability hangover that I'm glad Kayla's making me nachos and a margarita tonight.


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* swiped from a podcast episode of Elizabeth Gilbert's, around 3:36
** Elizabeth Gilbert (I want to just call her Liz like she's my friend too) mentioned in the same podcast about how people think the most important thing they need is not discipline, but rather self-forgiveness and empathy. WHA?? (~18:03)