For someone relatively confined to a 10x10 foot space, I’ve
been remarkably accomplishy today.
For one, a friend of mine from school came by to chat and
catch up, but, deliciously, we also began to talk about and exchange writing.
She’s submitting an essay to a contest, and had sent it to me and to the third
person in our unofficial writing group the three of us formed after graduation,
while each in the, How do you balance life and writing? phase of post-grad.
The phase each of us are still in. Today, she and I got the chance to talk
like writers again; it was noticeable to me how we each perked up while talking about it, talking about how our “real” life becomes the focus, and the
writerly mantle and life becomes an afterthought, or simply a memory.
Her coming by today helped me to remember how much I love
talking about this; reading others’ work, commenting, helping one another to
make it better, to pull the best out of it, push it further, where it wants to
be. There’s a collaboration that makes two minds greater than one, even though
writing can be such a solitary endeavor.
I told her that she reminded me that in December, I’d begun
finally writing this essay I’ve been carrying around in the wheeley cart that
is my mind for years. I told her that I
stalled out on it, wasn’t sure how to hold it and move forward with it. She
said she’d love to read it; we talked about how with our little group, we know
that we’re not sending polished work, but simply what we’ve got, and the honesty,
bravery, and humility that takes to allow each other – the trust, really – to
let one another read our unvarnished work.
So, I sent it, and she read it. Already. Commented, already,
and sent her comments back to me, … already. It seems that there really is
something there, and she gave me a wonderful idea for how to frame this story/essay I want to tell. It seems so
obvious sometimes, we’d said to each other, that we’d never thought to change
or frame or add what the other suggested – but, if we’d thought of it
ourselves, we wouldn’t need each other.
It just reinforced for me, the idea of community, the need
for one another, to help and support each other, just by saying yes. Yes, I’d
love to read it; Yes, I’m available for feedback. Yes, I support you in your
endeavor of sending your work into the world.
Above all that I got out of my schooling, was the notion
that a writing community is imperative. Writing for me had been such a silent,
isolated, solitary work, and sure, sometimes in school, you’re presented with a
classroom of folks who don’t “get it,” or whose work you don’t “get,” but
you’re willing to talk about it – to be
opened by it.
In the brief visit with a friend of mine, I was reopened to
those conversations, that angle of my brain, that way of tilting my head to
look at the world.
Another event of today was my calling to follow up with a
woman who I’d been referred to professionally. In my period of disability (aka, not working),
I’ve found that I’d like to actually DO stuff; do something that makes me feel
I can contribute to the world. And, ultimately, I realized that because I don’t
have the pressure of worrying about rent and paycheck-to-paycheck right now, I
can really look to do anything I want with my time.
Mainly, I mean to say that I have the chance to be the
intern, or part-time, or virtual worker that I haven’t had the financial space
to be in the past.
When I was unemployed over this summer after graduation,
looking for word in Arts Marketing and/or arts education, I found that my
resume really didn’t reflect the skills that people were looking for. I
certainly have the verve and the enthusiasm for this work – I think there is
little more important than helping people to access their creative center,
whatever that looks like to them, and personally, I think I’m a pretty good
schmoozer.
So, when I was contacted by an old instructor of mine from school
after she’d found out I had cancer, I replied with my thanks for her
kindness, and inquired if she needed any help with her literary magazine, a
virtual assistant perhaps (since obviously, I’m not commute-able). An intern,
sort of, a part-time helper, what can I do, how can I keep my feet in the
waters of creative community; how can I put something creative on my resume,
use the skills I have, gain the ones I need.
She thought on it, and put me in touch, just last week with
a friend of hers, who is a private practitioner of expressive arts therapy, an
artist herself, and a member of the spiritual community. Basically, our values
and beliefs align entirely.
I called her today for the first time (can I admit, that out
of my fear, I ate half the bag of dark-chocolate-covered pomegranate seeds
first?). We spoke for nearly an hour. She told me how she was looking to
launch, expand, enlarge, and I was honest with her that many of the practical
things she was looking for (specific programs, etc.) I don’t have experience in, but want the experience in. That it is precisely what has
kept me from the jobs (I think) I want in the past.
I was honest and started to say maybe she wants someone
who’s a little more up to speed, able to jump on the ball immediately. But she stopped me. She said, actually, as
she’s just formulating this all herself, maybe we can work something out while
I come up to speed. That we can use each other to build it out, fill it out, steer as we sail. Basically … paying
me to learn skills I want to learn… which, isn’t that what “work” is supposed
to be anyway????
So, I’m going to send her my resume and a reference, and
we’re both going to sit on it for a week and “see what blossoms,” but this
could be a really great thing for me – and for her. And if nothing else, I
reached out, put myself and my skills and my honesty out there, and I met a
woman who seems to be a light in this world.
Not. Bad.
Lastly, I heard back from both depth hypnosis practitioners I contacted last
night, and will be making an appointment with one when she returns
at the end of the month. Accomplishy, indeed.
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