This
Seeming
Chaos

The 6th.

Am I delusional to think this is all building up to something? A system for a really amazing life, interconnected with others in a way that feels nourishing to me? I don’t know. I think it could as long as I keep building, and I build slow so I don’t have to tear it all down.

I’m choosing to be optimistic. I’m choosing to believe that real change and recovery is taking place. It sure feels like it.

The 11th.

Slow and steady. I get so frustrated that that’s my pace now. But it is my pace…it’s how I operate best, both short and long-term. It’s habits-based, rather than achievement-based. And I trust it, I do. Mostly. But the hare part of me wants to be let loose sometimes. Especially when I get anxious. Especially when I compare myself to other people. Especially when I look at how much work there is to do and how small I am. How. Small.

I need to celebrate the wins that this way of living gives me, because sometimes it can be difficult to see them. I mean, one big win is I enjoy my life. Maybe I will never achieve anything, but I’m happy.

I do think healthy achievement is possible though. I am building the foundations for that anyway. I’d like to mark my progress somehow. How do you do that with an emergent strategy? It’s so hard to define what a victory is because you’re just living it.

I want so much. I have so many ideals, and nothing reaches them. But I keep working at it. I keep trying to bring reality into alignment with what’s in my head, without losing what is beautiful now.

Sometimes I feel like I’m in a cage of my own making. I do not let things flow out of me. I stop them up. I make them difficult. I do not trust that I am enough. I wait until there is something better, perfect, astounding. It is so rare that something is astounding.

The 13th.

“If you are too good and too quiet for too long, it will cost you. It will always cost you, in the end.” —The Ten Thousand Doors of January by Alix E. Harrow

Sometimes I think we hide behind our kindness, our self-effacing goodness. Because then we don’t have to do the work of being seen. We don’t have to try, and maybe fail. We don’t have to risk rejection in all its forms.

Sometimes I think &yet's “people-first” mantra allows me to avoid telling myself the whole truth. It is the rallying cry of the timid parts of me, not the fiercely protective parts. It is a narrative that explains why I don’t go after what I believe is possible. It is protection from failure, from rejection. It holds up my ego and puts a balm on my creative wounds.

Ouch. It’s hard to say, but it’s the truth. Grappling with this is scary because it is what we have always stood for. How can I question it?

The thing is, I don’t question what it could be. What it should be. I question how I’ve used it and why it’s been valuable to me. It has been a panacea for everything that’s terrifying, while at the same time it has been an idyllic beacon, guiding my hands and heart.

What do I do with this questioning? I don’t know.

The 17th.

Bookstore owner Sarah McNally said something interesting…she doesn’t have to do the uncomfortable work of selling/emailing/networking. She is a buyer, so everyone always wants to talk to her.

Being in that position is so powerful. And she’s able to do that because her product is in creating an environment that compels people inside. That’s what I want to create. I may never be a buyer, but I love creating that kind of environment for people. It’s genius, and so fulfilling. Hard to do online, but I’ve done it before. It is definitely possible.

She also mentioned selling pens and paper and things like that…things everyone uses. That’s interesting to me. Of course, those extras are a big part of why bookstores are so appealing. Not the pens, but the “writerly/readerly” objects. The curation of not only books, but things readers like.

What would that be for my Special Project? I don’t know, but it’s an interesting thing to think about.

The 18th.

“If being an artist seems too good to be true to you, you will devise a price tag for it that strikes you as unpayable.” —Julia Cameron, The Artist’s Way

I am a shadow artist. After reading Week 8 of The Artist’s Way, I think I’m finally ready to admit it. But what does that mean? How do I shift to inhabiting my artist self?

I don’t know. I want to write, I know that is true. I am writing for my job, as well as myself, and I do get pleasure from that. But when I think about the life I would want to live…when I imagine that it might possibly be better to follow the deepest desires of our hearts rather than constantly compromising, I think, “I really want to a be novelist.” Or a memoirist, like Maira Kalman. Or something that’s just…beyond category. I want to be published. I want to be written about in The Paris Review. I want to get a distinguished literary award.

And then the voice inside says “no! This would not be better than what you are doing now! Novels are hard to sell. You have no pedigree. No one will see the value in your work. Who in the world is going to buy it? It will be so much work and just a waste of time. You wouldn’t really be happy doing that anyway. Just be artistic in the way you do your current work. That is the better path. That is far more valuable to people. And you get a lot of enjoyment out of it.”

But I don’t have to quit my job in order to take a small step toward my dream. I don’t have to abandon the career I’ve built for myself. I can let myself roam the fields. I can let myself play.

The 23rd.

I’m so close to finishing this final edition of Gather the People. Phenomenally close. I could finish it today, feasibly. I can’t wait to be able to say, “I did it!” and move on to the next thing. I’ve loved this book, but I’m also ready for it to be put to bed. The 2nd edition was my yearning for perfection. I regret putting so much energy into something completely impossible. But I’m glad to have learned some valuable truths, and now I get to move on from it.

The 24th.

Everyone’s asleep. That will probably soon be my fate, but I have that feeling of wanting to take advantage of this time to…what? Accomplish things? Catch up? I don’t even know anymore. Sometimes I get overwhelmed by what we’re trying to do and wonder if I have the stamina to see it through. Maybe I’m too old for this. Too content.

But I will keep trying for as long as I can. And I will especially try to just enjoy it, despite the anxiety.

It hasn’t been a good day. But we have clothing, shelter, plenty of food. We have our children and our health. And so much more besides. Curiosity, access to all the learning we could want. Good weather. A fine pen. Youth(ish). Beauty in every little thing. Books. A Sunday paper. Someone who does the yard work (yay condo associations). The postal service. Hammocks. Moisturizer. Soft, cheerful sheets. Plants instead of curtains. We are living like queens, we just barely notice.

The 26th.

I don’t want to do anything at all today. I keep getting spun up about the murder of George Floyd. I feel sad and helpless. I don’t really know what to do about any of it, but I will share Black voices talking about it. It’s just all so impossible-feeling. And I definitely don’t feel like sharing about my book today.

The 27th.

“Every life starts with the same beginning and ends with the same end. The rest is the story, even if you don’t understand it, even if you aren’t sure which parts are true and which parts are your brain trying to make sense out of smoke.” —The Mere Wife by Maria Dahvana Headley

I watch movies like Persona and see people just living…picking mushrooms, sitting outside in the sun to think…talking, listening. Looking in the mirror. I’ve been in this headspace lately of how do people live? I’m genuinely curious. It’s less about their plans and systems and more about how they make their choices.

What is in their actual minds? How do they think about time? How do they spend their weekdays vs. weekends? Do they have a planning system? What do they think about scheduled events? How do they make decisions about how to spend their time, on a macro and micro level? What are their priorities right now? How do they wish they spent their time? What do they think about purpose and its relationship to their priorities? How much urgency do they experience on a regular basis? What does their personality have to do with how they spend their time? What do they spend a lot of time on that they wish they didn’t? What do they wish they spent more time on? What do they think is messed up about how our culture thinks about time/how we live? What do they wish would change? How do they feel about leisure? How do they define it? What is working for them right now? What isn’t?

The 28th.

I think I need to admit to myself that I’m living my perfect life already. I mean, circumstantially, everything is how I want it (at least in my personal life; we’re not talking about the state of the world here…ugh that is a garbage fire). Sure, there is pressure to keep &yet going strong. That would be nice not to have, but it’s also an exciting responsibility that could give me even more of what I want in the future. The trade-off of discomfort is worth it. That is a discomfort I can use to grow.

What would feel like creative liberation for me? I love that question. The truth is, being visible. I know I have so many gifts that I’m not sharing. I want to give them without self-consciousness or fear. It is going to be a long healing process, and I’m finally accepting that. I used to believe that a new system or plan would work. Now I know it’s just about planting seeds and nurturing the ones that take root. There is no perfect system or plan. There is just daily tending. And if I do that, I will grow something tall and strong and not easy to tear down.

The 31st.

It’s so hard not to get stuck in all the social media stuff around justice for George Floyd. None of my passive consumption of media is really doing anything, but it’s so easy to feel like it is (and hard to break away from it). I need to take some space to figure out what I can actually do, and do that.