August Moon 14: Day 7: Stumbling along

Day 7: What tends to trip you up?

What is your kryptonite? Ask yourself in the most compassionate of ways.
Do you have lots of great ideas but have trouble choosing which one to focus on? Do you do so much research that you get overwhelmed when it comes to making a decision? Do you love generating ideas but aren’t so excited about seeing them through to the micro details?
What if these things were not detractions or blocks, just neutral facts about your preferred approach? What if it were just a matter of finding resources or people whose skills and interests complemented yours, so that the things you have listed would no longer hold you back?
Who might be able to work with you to help you work this to your advantage?

Ah, me.  Any consistent reader of this blog, most of my family, and nearly any of my former editors or managers will instantly know the answer to this question: procrastination.

Partly it is precisely because I tend to over-research most anything. I want to know everything I can possibly know about a person, place, product, event, price -- well, just everything -- before I feel prepared to write about it or offer up a credit card or do a project. Once I understand everything I can possibly know, then I am ready to act. 

But.

That itself can be a non-starter, because there is ALWAYS something else to learn, some new resource or factoid to dig out. So sometimes I am just caught up in that endless research and don't get to the action part very quickly (if at all). 

As a result, there are unfinished projects aplenty. I always met my deadlines as a writer and a student, but sometimes it was by a thin, fine hair. And I always knew exactly how far I could let a deadline slip without the editor getting really perturbed. 

My stories -- my English papers too -- were, on a whole, pretty good, and well-researched. Some of that is because once I begin the process, I also begin the percolation process necesssary to craft a good story or paper: the part where all the facts and research filter through my mind and end up with me knowing where it will start and how it will end. That part is subconscious for me -- I just live 24/7 with the tidbits I've found or heard or read about, so once I finally sit down to write the story, it usually flows fairly easily into a draft. A long draft. Often two or three times the amount of copy needed draft. And that's because I have gathered So. Much. Information. The hard part, then, is editing it to fit the allotted word count and still having it make sense and capture the essence of the person or event or place or theory I'm writing about. Combining that with a tendency towards procrastination doesn't work very well. 

It's like "Okay, that's a good story. Now it might have been GREAT if I'd had more time...." and yet, if I'd had more time, I'd still have ended up getting it done just a hair before the deadline. 

Far as I can figure, the only person who can help me work with this to my advantage is ME. It involves changing something about my approach: perhaps prioritizing the importance of whatever I'm looking into rather than going full-bore nut-job research nerd on every single thing. Ah...I smell 'moderation' somewhere in that steaming pile of words.....

I do think as I have aged that I have begun to prioritize better what is worth reading a lot about and what is merely a passing fancy. And part of that is because my priority now is making my life as happy and fulfilling as I possibly can. If something doesn't contribute to that, it doesn't get top billing any more.

And I don't miss deadlines one tiny bit.

January is so LONG...

(((I'm procrastinating putting away Christmas decorations. The tree stands still decorated; the stuff from the rest of the house is consolidated in the den (with the tree), and I need to get on with it. Soon as I write this, k?)))

We had the tree up longer this year than I've ever had it, and that's because I succumbed to the lure of the artificial tree this year. I'll admit it is easy: three sections, pop, pop, pop, plug, and it's ready to go -- well, with a bit of fluffing here and there. It holds our favorite ornaments and there is no hassle about stringing lights. I *never* thought I would get a fake tree.

I did, however, find some good Fraser fir room spray and little hanging thingies infused with the scent that satisfied my nostalgia for the tree smell. And I don't miss dry needles.

But it's over for another season. It's January. The leftover cookies and fudge are wrapped and tucked deep into the freezer. It's time for salad and veggies and sugar-free popsicles. And a positive attitude about the whole thing.

Maybe that's what I've always disliked about January: the resolution and diet thing. Well, that and the fact that I spent a lot of my adult years living in Midwest cities where you got snow and ice and gray skies from November to May. It just seems like January is too long in comparison with the other months (well, there IS August...)

I'm not doing anything especially new this year: still dieting, with good intentions to write daily and continue with yoga and whole body vibration machine and maybe even treatmill. And not to beat myself up over slipping. That'll do.

Onward to those decorations.

Managing time

With another birth year celebrated this past weekend, I have been a bit introspective about life in general, my life specifically, and what I want for this coming year.

It's not for lack of subjects that I haven't written since Oct. 30. And it's really not even for lack of time. I'm examining time management -- what I do with the time I have every day, the same 24 hours we all have.

Back in my late 30s and 40s, I managed time rather well, between managing a household, a school age child, a job and half hour commute each way, chorus rehearsals, church meetings and rehearsals, grocery shopping, and the usual household stuff.

You do what you gotta do, I suppose, and mostly I think I did pretty well. Yes, I probably immersed myself in lots and lots of 'doing' but that's what was required at the time.

I don't seem to be as efficient these days. I know I spent more time than I should on the computer, poking around, reading blogs, writing a bit, researching, playing a stupid game or two. I still have the grocery shopping and assorted errands, and I help daughter #1 manage things that she has trouble with or is hesitant to do by herself.

My mother always seemed to have a clean house (of course we helped by cleaning our rooms without fail every Saturday, as well as other chores), things organized, cupboards and drawers that weren't jumbled, and still had time to play bridge, walk, and for many years, she was a teacher and still did all that. She and Daddy square-danced for years, attended church every Sunday where she worked in the library and he sang in the choir, had an active social life with a couple of groups.

So why are my cupboards and drawers jumbled, many with stray crumbs in the corners? Why is my office desk covered with papers and piles of source material for stories? There are two or three baskets full of magazines -- Cooking Light, Bon Appetit, Sunset -- that I am sure I'll go through one of these days. I have a box with old Christmas cards stashed under the desk, and my laundry basket always, ALWAYS has a dozen socks whose mates have gone on vacation -- but you can be assured that if I throw them away, I'll find the mate the next day.

My house is not dirty. I dust, vacuum, keep counters clean, and -- okay, I'll confess that sometimes I do leave dirty pots or dishes from a late evening dessert snack soaking in the sink overnight -- but I do try to keep the kitchen reasonably tidy. My bed is made every day, but there is always a stack of magazines on the floor and books on the table next to my side. We always have newspapers and magazines on the ottoman in the living room, although I try to put them in the recycling bin every night or at least straighten the stack.

Somehow I'd assumed that by the time I got to be this age that I'd be an excellent housekeeper and that it would all be effortless.

But it isn't. And I'm not.

The office is right now a catch-all for stuff I intend to sell on eBay, the aforementioned source materials and notebooks filled with interview notes, mail that needs shredding or answering, scraps of paper that have phone numbers or Web sites on them. I have a beautiful new workbench waiting to be assembled, but first I have to clean everything else up and rearrange my desk and computer station, and hopefully eliminate at least one or two pieces that are currently holding printers or files. I LIVE in the office most days. It's where the treadmill is, the computers, the photo equipment, the eBay goodies. But it's a mess.

It should have been cleaned by now, my inner critic says. I should manage myself better and not spend so much time reading stuff online or playing that stupid Facebook Bejeweled Blitz. I'm an ADULT, ferpetesake, an old one at that! I ought to know better. Priorities!

Sixty used to feel pretty old to me when I was in my 30s and 40s. Oh, I knew plenty of 60-somethings who were very active and had a really good time with life, and they seemed to have life pretty well figured out. Yeah, issues sometimes threw curveballs at them, but overall, life was good.

And I guess that's where I am. Overall, life is good. Yes, I need to work on time managment and getting the office cleaned up and crumbs out of my silverware drawers. But what I also know is that life is short. Spending time writing notes to a friend who is sick is more important. Reading something that inspires me and makes me smile is important. Walking on that treadmill and watching a tv show on hulu.com while I do it is important. Being there for my daughter is important, and being there for my husband is important. Taking care of me is really important, even if papers clutter the desk.

Meanwhile, I'd sure love to ask my mother how she did it, why she managed her time the way she did, and what she'd change if she could. I wonder if she felt like she had it all together when she was my age. I wonder what age she felt inside when she was in her 60s. I wonder if she liked her life the way it was.

Never, ever give up

Here's a video of a 47-year-old British woman who absolutely wowed the audience on "Britain's Got Talent."

What this says to me is "never give up." As we're fond of saying about our girls, "God's not done with them yet." Same could be said of us.

In one of the blogs I read regularly, Getting Past Your Past, the author has often told her readers "Don't give up the day before the miracle happens."

Some days it is hard to get out of bed, isn't it, much less to continue to shovel sh*t against the tide (one of my ex's favorite sayings). It's hard, sometimes, to just get 'er done, to clean what needs cleaning, to do what needs doing, to keep washing the dishes and the clothes and dusting and picking up and cooking. The routine stuff that keeps things in order, running as they should.

I don't know about you, but I've had months like that, I think, where it's one day, one step at a time, without much break in that grind.

We take a lot for granted -- those of us who have our own homes, with clean water and abundant power and enough to eat, and a warm place to sleep out of the cold and rain, or the heat and bugs. So I try to give thanks for those things, every day, because it is astounding to realize that there are many, many people, even in our own town, who do not have these things on a regular basis.

I consciously try to find the joy in every day, to find gratitude in even the most humble tasks. To live right now, in this moment, instead of waiting for the day when the stars will align and the big break will come and I'll win the lottery and my book will become a best seller. (Nevermind that I haven't written it yet...)

That's the point. That's the lesson in Susan Boyle's performance, I think.

She did not give up before her miracle happened. She took a huge risk to get on this show, to realize her dream. Life will never be the same for her, regardless of where her performance takes her.

So I can start again now to do what needs doing, but also to make time for dreams and work on making them happen. It won't happen at all if I don't keep it always in my sight and do something to move it forward every day, even a little bit. God is not done with me yet.

When you just don't feel like doing anything you should be doing

The.
Best.
Time-Sucker.
(almost)
EVER.

Lion Cam.
(it's a zoo in Norway...)

Well, shoot....
The site's down right now -- has been this afternoon -- but I'm checking. It's momma lion and four lion cubs, barely able to toddle around, and just too cute --

Gottados have gotta go

My to-do lists are growing, not shrinking, and I'm feeling the pressure of'gottadogottadogottadoNOW.'

I thought I'd gotten to the point where I might actually get those stupidbathroom curtains done. I bought the fabric in Davis a few weeks ago and allit takes to finish it are seams -- they're nothing fancy. Our bedroom stillneeds to be deep cleaned and a few more things hung, and my desk is stillfairly disastrous, but the other rooms have been cleaned and done, mostly.

It's spring (or is it?) so once again the spring-winter closet dilemma hasresulted in clothes from both seasons slowly migrating from one closet tothe other, leaving storage boxes open on the floor and transitional clothingon the spare bed.

I have many routine tasks for real estate -- ads, posting online, followupwith clients who we've talked to or written over the last several months,sending letters, designing cards. Oh yeah. I wish it brought better results.

And then there are the writing gigs we're both working on. You wouldn't knowit from anything that's made its way to paper, at least for me, but it'sperking in my brain and slithering through my sleep. I started one thing today that I expect will pretty much write itself tomorrow because I've beencogitating on it for about a week. That's how my creative muse likes towork...research, think, research, muse, research, putter, more think, moreputter, a little gardening, some clothes folding, and then BOOM. It flows out of the fingers.

It had better. I need it Friday.

I still want to plant some spinach and start a row of beans in the garden.All the lettuces, onions, radishes and sugar snap peas have poked theirheads up and really liked today's rain. It won't take long -- it's just getting out there to do it.

And then there's a meeting next week for which there needs to be somepreparation. Volunteer stuff hasn't been high on my "gottado" list lately,although the first magazine from our Realtor association has been put to bed and will be here next week (YAY!)

So I feel back to "doing" rather than "being." I gotta find some "being"time this weekend, I think, in the garden or on the sewing machine, or maybejust reading for an hour or so. I haven't posted what I'm reading becauseall I've been doing is catching upon magazines! Oprah, Cooking Light,Sunset, Newsweek, various Realtor magazines, AARP, plus newspapers. Since I finished the last novel, I haven't even started another.

Gottado. I gotta do something about these 'gottados.' Life is too short tospend too much time like this.

Gimme a P...rocrastination

It's my own fault. I've managed to put off doing an eight-page newsletter, an article for the local paper, and an e-mail composite of news items all week. So here it is Saturday night and I've been working for the last four hours, put in a couple more this afternoon, and will stare down the computer screen all day tomorrow.

I'll get it all done. I always do, even if I'm just under the wire. And none of these are a matter of life and death or critical to a good performance review, so if they're delayed by a day or so, it really won't matter much.

Nevertheless.

I have always worked to deadlines -- in grade school, in high school and college, in every single job I've ever had. If I don't have 'em, I set 'em for myself.

And I've always been a procrastinator. I skate verrryyy close to the edge most of the time, which used to drive my professors and advisor nuts. I suspect a few of my bosses worried too, but they also learned that I'd do what I said I'd do and make the deadlines.

I don't even know why I procrastinate. It's generally not because I don't like a project and therefore delay doing it. Part of it is that I process a task in my head -- such as writing a story or doing a layout. When I finally get going on the task, it almost always goes together quickly, but I like to think it's because I know how it will flow because I've thought it through. But I'll admit that procrastinating like that does not leave room for mishaps like computers not working or electricity going out.

So I did some playing last week, and a bunch of putzing, a few constructive activities, and not much on this stuff I'm facing now. And I've got a big itch to really spruce up the house, clean it really well, hang pictures, make curtains, weed out closets, invite folks to dinner -- and I won't let myself do that until I meet these other deadlines. *sigh*

I'll get there. The writing and the layouts will get done. I'll make a new list of things I must do next week and then find satisfaction in checking them off so I can get to the things I really want to do.

Unless something more interesting comes along.

I'm reading Anne Rivers Siddons Sweetwater Creek.