Reboot (version something point O)

Since October, I have been working with this awesome group of ladies led by Debra Smouse (a coach and general de-tangler of things, goals and ideas). I’m setting goals. First time I’ve formally done any real goal setting. So, one of my goals is to get a big chunk of what I hope will be a memoir written. But more importantly, the goal was to really get a regular writing practice going. Part of this was to actually put something on this blog of mine that only sees spurts of activity from time to time–I haven’t even been reblogging my own posts on Still Standing–really, how hard is that?

One of the other intermediate goals was to read The War of Art by Steven Pressfield. So I did. And I see what all my writer friends have been talking about. I knew all about Resistance. Or so I thought. I started to feel a little like Lori Lieberman watching Don McLean sing “Empty Chairs”:

He [wrote] as if he knew me in all my dark despair
and then he looked right through me as if I wasn’t there.
But he just came to [writing], [writing] clear and strong.

I don’t mean for this to be a book review by any stretch of the imagination, but this book just spoke to me (someone must have known that!). To the writer me. This part of me longing to write all the time, almost never ceasing. The one that is trapped, pinned, reigned in by Resistance (that bitch!).

So here’s what this book imbued in me: Resistance will no longer get me down. I will squelch her with work. It’s no different than getting up and going to work today–which, honestly, I didn’t want to do. And that was the revelation that I had when I was reading this book. I have two jobs now, whether I like it or not (well, three if you count being a mom–actually that may mean that I have four jobs, since I think mom counts as two). It’s just that I only get paid for one of them, for the time being. My lofty goal, most writers’ lofty goal, is to make a living with their art. I know I’m not ready to make any leaps from where I am perched at the moment, but I can still work. Every day, until I can make that leap.

So expect to see something from me on a regular basis. That’s another goal–several times a month, at least, you will find something new on this blog.

Please understand that much of my hesitation, my paralysis with regard to this space has been the question of what to put in it. After a discussion with Deb, it was clear that the best thing to put in it was whatever I wanted.

I don’t want to pigeonhole myself. I don’t want to just blog about CHDs or baby loss or writing. However, I want to make clear that there are many blogs just like what I described that I ADORE and that I find to be exceedingly well done. It’s a choice that I know just isn’t for me. And I don’t want to try to manage more than one online space to accommodate everything I’d like to write about.

I like yoga and cooking and hooping and reading and family and yes, advocating on behalf of CHDs and writing about baby loss and writing about writing. But I know what you’ll most want to read is what is in my heart to write. So maybe it’ll be navel-gazing blather like this, or maybe I’ll bake something and take pretty pictures of it and tell you how good it was and how to make it. Or maybe I’ll share what I’m reading, or some new writing advice or technique I’ve learned about–some revelation I’ve had. Or maybe it will be about how hard the months between October and February now are and how much I miss my son. Or maybe it’ll be some observation of something wonderful I saw or experienced during the week. Or the shawl I just knitted. Or an amazing writer I think you should meet. Or maybe a snippet of my fiction (or my memoir as it takes shape).

What I know is that I’m pretty certain that whatever you’ll find here when you see a new post will be good and readable. You will be happy you lighted upon my digital world. And geez, if you aren’t, please don’t leave me hanging–give me feedback!

Look forward to something sooner than later.

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