I am trying to figure out which rocks I should put in first.
I have been thinking about this all weekend. I never got around to what I had planned to do at all on Saturday. My plan to work on another project on Sunday got sidetracked by the Awful Discovery in Church.
I mentioned, of course, the good news I got about Kij and Jo, and I'm so glad for them, but naturally the news made me think of my own book. I did write a scene this week, but other than that haven't touched it in months.
What, really are my biggest rocks? What should they be? My day job? I don't care about it the way I do about other things in my life, but I have to pay the mortgage, and I have to provide the health insurance. I cut HPEF out of my life, or at least cut back, in one attempt to reprioritize. What about time for exercise? Trying to keep the house from caving in out of sheer chaos? My kids? I told Mom today that yeah, being a mother is important, it's very important to me, but it doesn't feel right to make it the be-all and end-all, the cornerstone of my purpose in life. What is my work, my special contribution to the work, other than I Take Care of Other People, namely my own children. Is it my writing? My sister Betsy was trying to console me for not getting much writing done. She has four boys, and they're starting to leave home now. "You have so little time with your kids," she tells me. "I was where you were at five years ago. Now I have all sorts of time. But think about it. You may have thirty or forty more years to write books. You have only five to seven more years with the girls at home."
I don't know why my thinking is so muddled, trying to figure out which rocks are the most important. I feel resentful: they're all important, so why can't I take care of all my rocks, dammit? I feel guilty for the ones that get left out. And I get angry that my jar is only so big, but there are only so many hours in the day, and it just takes so much time to do it all.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. In the back of my mind, I can hear my friend Laurie Winter saying, "Now, Peg, repeat after me: I am not responsible for the smooth and orderly running of the universe."
I have been thinking about this all weekend. I never got around to what I had planned to do at all on Saturday. My plan to work on another project on Sunday got sidetracked by the Awful Discovery in Church.
I mentioned, of course, the good news I got about Kij and Jo, and I'm so glad for them, but naturally the news made me think of my own book. I did write a scene this week, but other than that haven't touched it in months.
What, really are my biggest rocks? What should they be? My day job? I don't care about it the way I do about other things in my life, but I have to pay the mortgage, and I have to provide the health insurance. I cut HPEF out of my life, or at least cut back, in one attempt to reprioritize. What about time for exercise? Trying to keep the house from caving in out of sheer chaos? My kids? I told Mom today that yeah, being a mother is important, it's very important to me, but it doesn't feel right to make it the be-all and end-all, the cornerstone of my purpose in life. What is my work, my special contribution to the work, other than I Take Care of Other People, namely my own children. Is it my writing? My sister Betsy was trying to console me for not getting much writing done. She has four boys, and they're starting to leave home now. "You have so little time with your kids," she tells me. "I was where you were at five years ago. Now I have all sorts of time. But think about it. You may have thirty or forty more years to write books. You have only five to seven more years with the girls at home."
I don't know why my thinking is so muddled, trying to figure out which rocks are the most important. I feel resentful: they're all important, so why can't I take care of all my rocks, dammit? I feel guilty for the ones that get left out. And I get angry that my jar is only so big, but there are only so many hours in the day, and it just takes so much time to do it all.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. In the back of my mind, I can hear my friend Laurie Winter saying, "Now, Peg, repeat after me: I am not responsible for the smooth and orderly running of the universe."
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-09 06:37 am (UTC)You already do a good job of it, as far as I can tell, from way over here.
K.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-09 06:50 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-09 09:07 am (UTC)As for Which Rocks are the Big Rocks -- that's always the question, isn't it? I remember pondering this when I got sent to Franklin Planner training by a long-ago employer. Taking my car in for oil changes is not something I find personally rewarding. It's definitely one of the grains of sand that I tend to leave for last -- but if I don't do it, eventually my car will break down and it will cost me a ton of money. There are a lot of other things like this: they're minor annoyances, very easy to let slide, but eventually I'll wind up kicking myself if I don't take care of them. Some days I feel like I'm drowning in stuff like this.
A lot of motivational writing seems to have the moral, "If you want to climb a mountain, then go climb that mountain, and screw everyone else!" And....most motivational writing is done by men. I think these two things are related. Women know that it's more complicated than the aphorisms suggest, because even when you don't find it personally rewarding or fulfilling, SOMEBODY has to treat the head of the kid with lice, SOMEBODY has to do the laundry, pack the lunches, change the oil in the cars, pay the bills, buy the groceries, cook the food, on and on and on and on. If one member of the family is out climbing mountains, that means that SOMEONE is taking care of EVERYTHING else.
But absolutely, at the same time, your writing is a real and legitimate thing. It's perfectly reasonable to insist that everyone else in your family make space for your writing, just as you would insist that they make space for you to brush your teeth, shower, pay the bills, cook dinner, etc., etc., etc. It's not something frivolous and self-indulgent.
I think a lot of writers -- particularly women writers, and most especially women writers with children -- struggle with this. There aren't any easy or obvious answers, except to remember that playing with your kids, or reading to them, or cooking with them, or taking them for walks, are legitimate activities that we should value as much as we value paid employment, housework, and all the other things that lay urgent claim to our time. And that writing and other artistic pursuits are also legitimate activities that we should value as much as we value paid employment, housework, and all the other things that lay urgent claim to our time.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-09 09:10 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-10 03:30 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-09 06:24 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-10 03:32 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-09 06:23 pm (UTC)I enjoy my children much, much more now that they're old enough to entertain themselves. When we're together, it's because we all feel like it, not because Mom's the only available stimulation. Nowadays (mine are 14 and 11), they're bringing ideas into the house, ideas I hadn't encountered before, instead of seeing the world through my explanations. It's nice. I like being surprised.
Everybody has to find her own path. I will say that Other People's Rocks aren't necessarily your rocks. You can't talk yourself out of wanting something, or make yourself want it because you know you should.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-09 07:56 pm (UTC)Have you ever read Julie Morgenstern's book on time management? She created example "time maps" - they're weekly schedules - for people. Looking at them made me realize how much I'm trying to do. Her writer doesn't do housework or exercise, her marathoner has no hobbies, etc.
Re: Flylady, if you are the sort that treats advice as take it or leave it, she does have some helpful tips. Most of her stuff cracks me up.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-11 06:39 am (UTC)Aeditimi Scriba
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-12 07:34 am (UTC)I'd like to particularly recommend two books, which were the most helpful to me in preparing me for parenthood, and especially the changes in my marriage that happened when we had a baby:
When Partners Become Parents: The Big Life Change for Couples by Carolyn Pape Cowan, Philip A. Cowan
and
The Transition to Parenthood: How a First Child Changes a Marriage : Why Some Couples Grow Closer and Others Apart by Jay Belsky.
Both books were fascinating reads, gave me an immense amount of insight, and I recommend them highly.
I look forward to getting to know you better on LiveJournal.
Oh, and also
Date: 2004-08-12 09:05 am (UTC)