Sometimes, the hardest thing in life is dragging yourself
out of the dregs of despair. I firmly believe that the time we allow ourselves
to wallow in something – pain or anger or grief – should only be one day,
period, no exceptions.
Now I’m not saying that all that stuff is not still there,
and shaking it off is certainly not that easy, but full-on wallowing can’t go
past a certain timeframe or you just get stuck there.
My wallowing involves a complete shut down for a day.
Nothing is required of me – not getting out of bed or bathing or even eating –
nothing. It works for me. Yesterday was one of those days. I did get out of
bed, but only to walk six feet to my laptop and even then I did only what I
felt like online.
Moving on is essential. It is how we get through a life that
can sometimes be a bitch. Now, what does this have to do with writing?
Everything.
It is so easy to get stuck in what we too easily perceive as
the tragedy of a story that won’t come together. We literally grieve the idea
that has died, only too often beyond its infancy after we’ve already poured
ourselves into it. And we should grieve, because, after all, our stories are
pieces of ourselves. We would grieve a lost limb, wouldn’t we? So, grieving a
lost tale is perfectly reasonable.
But like the mother who has to care for her living children
after the death of one child, we have to move on. We have to listen to our
creative souls as another idea comes to life and give it our all with every bit of the
fervor we gave the story that perished. We
can’t afford to wallow.
So, if you're stuck in grief for a failed narrative - as Cher says to Nicholas Cage in Moonstruck – “Snap out
of it.”
A rousing call to action! Thanks Kathy!
ReplyDeleteThanks Claude! I'm currently in the snap out of it mode myself.
DeleteI was wondering how you were doing. Never heard back. But since I've always been a strong adherent to "no news is good news," I didn't bother you further. Delighted to see you blogging again and being you - a strong, caring, courageous woman. xo
ReplyDeleteThanks Christina - I don't remember seeing a message from you, but I've been really scattered. I'm back now!
DeleteI can understand the pain, and the need to 'snapp out of it!'. We are here if you need us, Kathy, whether to prop you up, or cheer you on as you move through the shadows.
ReplyDelete{{{{{{{Huggles}}}}}}}}}
Thanks Melissa! I'm doing pretty good now though. Appreciate the hug!
DeleteGeez, Kathy, I thought that NEVER happened to YOU. Feel better.
ReplyDeleteWow, Kathy, I never thought that would happen to you, of all people! Feel better, please.
ReplyDeleteHey, Scott! Thanks for the thought - it really does happen to me, but thankfully not very often.
DeleteI allow myself one of those days each month just for the heck of it. Thanks for writing this Kathy.
ReplyDeleteKind Regards, dawn
Http:/www.thefaceswelive.com
That's a good plan. I do have do-nothing days for other reasons as well - pure exhaustion back when I was working. Thanks for stopping by Dawn.
DeleteRollercoasters are fun-- it's more fun going uphill than down but it's all fun. Enjoy your do nothing days.
ReplyDeleteI love, love, love rollercoasters. Good analogy, Dannie. Thanks.
DeleteTough but true! Though saying that, I find I can't rush the writing process - I can have prolonged periods of not writing but I reframe it. I don't regard it as being 'stuck' but rather being in a fallow time, when the work is happening beneath the surface. My first lesson as a writer, 'Impatience is a form of resistance.'
ReplyDeleteHmmm.. Food for thought. I need to think about that quote because I'm a vastly impatient person - especially with myself.
DeleteI'm having many of those days lately. I spend my time in bed watching the screen and listening to the phone ringing :(
ReplyDelete