I love this time of year. 2014 absolutely sucked, and that’s okay, because it’s 2015, baby, and I’m taking no prisoners.
I’ll start the pep rally with a classic.
6 Harsh Truths That Will Make You a Better Person
Always be closing, baby.
This here’s our place to talk about where we want to go and how we’re going to get there.
I want to not be depressed anymore, so I’m going to do the things that historically have been proven to keep me sane, such as rigorous daily exercise and eating nutritious food. So far I’m killing it. I designed my own WODs for the week (approved by a friend, who was my Coach for two years), I did 300 jumping jacks today at the scheduled time (scheduling time seems to be a keystone for me, because I stop obsessing about whether or not I should be working out right that moment.) I cooked a nutritious breakfast for the first time since probably May, honestly. I’m on my way.
There’s a greater philosophical concept underpinning this plan, though. I said to my friend/Coach, who is exceptional at goading me off of my ass when I’m slumpy, ‘‘I’m beginning to suspect that support is overrated. I’m beginning to suspect that everything is overrated except doing the thing.’’
He approved. You may not approve. That’s okay. What works for you isn’t necessarily what works for me. But I know for me personally, I spend way too much goddamn time in my head, caring about things and planning for things, but never actually doing things. That is true on multiple levels, from, ‘‘I should be more aggressive with contract opportunities’’ to ‘‘I should call so-and-so and let them know I care.’’ Man, my heart is full to burst with caring about others, but it’s all worthless without the weight of action behind it. Ah, the halo effect is a vicious phenomenon. ‘‘I cared about this thing, therefore I don’t have to do anything about it.’’ Even posting this thread is dangerous, because it might be mistaken for doing something.
One wonderful thing that came out of this year is I started writing fiction again - not thinking about doing it, but actually doing it. I wrote the required 50,000 words during National Novel Writing Month but I wrote many more words than that over the course of the year. It’s almost a daily habit now. I had to get past the ‘‘but I suck and have no business doing this’’ part and just accept that it’s a process. I struggled with my main character at first, something just wasn’t clicking, until I realized she, like me, was just waiting for someone (or thing) to save her. I had this flash of inspiration where I realized that salvation for both of us wasn’t a person or thing, it was being useful. Goddamn, I just want to be useful again. In utility lies my salvation.
I’m reading a book (recommended by a Doper just last week) called the War of Art. It has some great stuff.
[QUOTE=War of Art, Steven Pressfield]
The artist committing himself to his calling has volunteered for hell, whether he knows it or not. He will be dining for the duration on a diet of isolation, rejection, self-doubt, despair, ridicule, contempt and humiliation. The artist must be like that Marine. He has to know how to be miserable. He has to love being miserable. He has to take pride in being more miserable than any soldier or or swabbie or jet jockey. Because this is war, baby. And war is hell.
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[QUOTE=War of Art, Steven Pressfield]
The writer is an infantryman. He knows that progress is measured in yards of dirt extracted from the enemy one day, one hour, one minute at a time and paid for in blood. The artist wears combat boots. He looks in the mirror and sees GI Joe. Remember the Muse favors working stiffs. She hates prima donnas. To the gods the supreme sin is not rape or murder, but pride. To think of yourself as a mercenary, a gun for hire, implants the proper humility. It purges pride and preciousness.
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This isn’t just about writing of course. It’s about any time you decide to create something, whether that something is a book or a painting or a business. Any time we make a commitment to change we are engaged in an act of creation. Even if the thing we are creating is a new self.
These quotes speak to me, because I’m not sure I can be a hero right now. I’ve taken too many hits this year to think of myself as capable of accomplishing great feats. But there’s no reason I can’t be a grunt for hire. If my only job is showing up every day - not becoming a lithe and supple fitness stud, not writing the great American novel, but just showing up - I can handle that. I can be the packhorse for my own creative impulse.
My plan is still percolating. I don’t want to get bogged down in details but I do want to create a manifesto of sorts.
What about you? What’s lighting a fire under your ass and what’s your plan?