The Plan

I've been thinking a lot lately about having a "plan" and I've noticed that in my writing circles, there's a lot of talk about it, as well, seeing as how we've started a new year and it's always good to assess or reassess your plan—your goals—for your writing career.

It's a daunting idea because I can't say I've ever sat down and actually made a plan for mine. I know I'm capable of writing a first draft in a month, when I put my nose to the grindstone. I can edit till I'm blue in the face. I'm learning to write query and synopsis while pulling out my hair.

But I've never looked ahead to 6 months, a year, five years down the road.

I guess that comes from growing up believing you should live for today, because tomorrow is not promised. It's hard to balance between that well meaning adage and real life, wherein you need to plan ahead if you want to have a successful life, family, career, time for recreation, etc. It's good to have goals for IF and WHEN tomorrow does come because usually it will, even if we shouldn't expect it.

It quite the conundrum. To be or not to be- to plan or not to plan...

Well, I'm starting February off with a bang. It's better than sitting around staring at the wall and wallowing in silly useless self-pity because I'm too afraid to step outside my comfort zone. I stepped outside it today, but I'll save that for another blog sometime.

At least if I make my objectives known to myself and I make them obtainable, I have something to work toward. Writing is a business and in order to succeed in my little corner I'm scratching out, I have to look at it that way and remember I have to work at it, stay consistent and follow through on goals in order to get it off the ground and keep that business afloat.

No plan down on paper yet, but I'm heading in that direction. I need to know what I'm doing. I need to make a plan, plan the work and work the plan. Sounds complicated, but I'm up for it.

A New Year, A New Me...

I'm running behind in blogging about my intentions for 2011. Part of that is because I don't really have a clue where to go from here. What I do know is that I'm extremely tired of floating along like I have nothing better to do with myself. I've been in this stagnant sludge for about 2-3 years.

Call it laziness, depression, procrastination...it has several names in my mind. I've been dealing with personal issues, deaths in my family, and just generally- Life. I lost my balance somewhere. The writing train ran out of steam and I've yet to get it fired back up properly.

Quitting smoking nearly two years ago was a decision I am proud of and I know I feel better and it was a good thing to do not just for financial and health reasons, but because it sets a good example for my kids. I don't miss it most of the time, though the weight gain has not been a pleasant side effect, or my lack of motivation to get up and get moving to drop the weight. That's something I intend to put more effort into this year. I have to do something about it because I'm at a breaking point mentally and emotionally and physically. My body reminds me daily that it's not happy or in shape.

The weight has added to the emotional baggage I carry around and that in turn, affects my writing. I don't feel lovable, pretty or sexy in this "heavy" body. Not feeling that way makes me not care or want to write stories about being loved/lovable.

I know I should love myself for who I am, no matter my size, but I feel like a slug and I don't like "me" too much. I don't like my characters because they tend to reflect the parts and characteristics within me right now that I don't like- the parts that are ugly and dissatisfied.

When I'm healthier, I have a better self-image. I don't need to be skin & bones, but I do need to feel good about me again and I need to be able to "breathe" in my own skin. So that's part of the plan. Lose weight and love ME again so that I can love my writing- most especially because I have missed that fire, that spark I had several years ago where I was writing so much my wrists ached and my mind was constantly active with ideas and stories and plots. I had so much joy.

I want to go back there...When I write- I'm Alice- those stories hidden in my heart and mind are MY Wonderland and I miss it SO much. I've been away too long and though I know I can't take up residence there permanently, I still want to go back for visits...more often than I have in the past few years.

And one of the ways I intend to "get" to my Wonderland was to reassess my writing atmosphere.

I got my laptop early last year, with the intention of being able to be mobile, to go and write where I wanted. I set up a "writing nook" in the bedroom, but in those months that followed, I find I've stayed pretty stationary, using the kids' mini folding table and sitting in the recliner, distracted by the television, etc.

It's not the same as when I sat at the desk on the regular PC. And it dawned on me that I did my best writing, my most prolific and productive writing, sitting right here in the living room at the computer desk, back to the television, headphones on with MY music so I could get in "the zone." Even with hubby and the kids right here in the same room, I got more done when I had a structured "writing area."

And the more I've thought about it, the more the thought gnawed at me that, since the hard drive on the desktop crashed and we can't afford to get it fixed at the moment, it was just collecting dust and taking up space....work space I could be "WORKING" at. So today I cleared a place in the spare bedroom to put the regular PC temporarily until we can get it fixed and I dusted the desk and made me a writing nook again...back where I do my best work. And look at me...after struggling to write my New Year's blog, here I am, doing it, with very little trouble. I already feel inspired. :o) It's good to have my area back!

Here's to getting words down- LOTS of them...Bring it ON!

At the Heart of It....

This year has felt different to me. I'm just not in the spirit of things. There's a melancholy dwelling in my heart and I can't find my Joy.

I've decorated, wrapped presents (all but what I wrap Christmas Eve night), sent out Christmas cards and today and the rest of this week I'll be tackling treats for family and friends.

I feel like I'm running behind (though I feel like that all the time anymore), but Christmas will be upon us in five days. Count 'em- 5 days!

I'm still not in the mood for it and in all honesty, will be glad when it's over. How sad is that? Normally I enjoy the holiday, but this year, I'm far from filled with Whoville jubilation...no...I'm feeling a little Grinchy- like before his heart grew three sizes that day...

Last night, as I lay down to sleep, I started thinking about what this time of year means to me, especially since I'm feeling down and wanted to give myself things to renew my hope and happiness. I thought about this year's lack of joy in my heart, but also all the years past...

And my conclusion is LOVE.

At the heart of December is Love.

Love for our families, our friends, and sometimes even strangers.

December, for the most part, can be summed up to that.

It's at the heart of the matter, regardless of what holiday you celebrate in this last month of the year.

It's about all the things that mean love to us. For me, it's my family, my friends, my cat.

It's the bite of cold in the air that sinks into your bones as the snow falls and the warmth of hearth and home, a welcoming escape from the blustery winds. It's the hush that falls over the world when snow blankets the ground and coats the trees. It's hot cocoa and sugar cookies. It's the glow and twinkle of the tree and ornaments and sparkly garland. It's the light in your kids' eyes when they see the tree fully decorated the first time, or when they sight a house decked out like Snoopy's doghouse with lights.

It's doing things to bring a smile to another person's face, to fill their hearts with some gladness. It's good food and treats, it's time spent with those we care about. It's missing those who can't be with us, but remembering them just the same.

And that made me wonder why December is the only time of year when we show this kind of love for our fellow man, woman, child, etc. Why do we only extend a helping hand or a kind word NOW?

I suspect that we do this because the year is coming to a close and all the rest of the year has been consumed with worrying about the things that go on in our own little circles.

This year has been rather shoddy for my family- we've had car troubles and had to fix the one car we had and ended up buying another one, too. My husband has had health issues that we're still dealing with, including his recent knee surgery a little over a week ago. I've not been myself this year (turning 35 did something to me psychologically LOL) and so I've been struggling with personal emotional issues that aren't resolved- just buried at the moment. I'm still having a hard time getting my head back into my writing, which only leaves me feeling void, unable to fill the emptiness with something that brings me joy.

But that brings me back to why December seems to be the time to show compassion and love and care for those outside the boundaries of our routine lifestyles.

Why does December seem to be the ONLY month where we give ourselves permission to slow down, to visit with others, to care about them? Why is it the time of year we shrug off that cloak we use to isolate ourselves? But more importantly, why is this kindness and consideration only dragged out with the decorations, as though we pack it in after the holidays and save it up for next December?

The icy fingers of winter creep in and in their own way, they force warmth into us- encourage us to warm toward others in a way no other time of the year does. I guess that's why. As cold as December can be, it fills us with a warmth that emanates outward in our behavior and our lives. It works as a magnet, drawing us all together. It draws us together in love, and that's truly at the heart of it...

Reflections...

This time of year is always a time of reflection. We cannot help ourselves but to think about the year behind us because we can't possibly know what's up the road ahead. A lot of times it isn't simply the year we've just been through, but other years, as well, because I think we all need to look back from time to time to see the chapters of our lives thus far—so we can appreciate who we were, who we are and where our journey might take us from here.

It's just natural to revisit our history in our memories at this time of year when it seems family and friends are nearest as the year draws to its close. The winter season and the holidays fill us with the warmth of all the times we've had before with loved ones who are with us and those who've gone before us. I think that's also why this time of year is sometimes the HARDEST time to get through for those who've lost so many loved ones in their lives or have little that makes them truly happy to be alive. It makes it hard to be cheerful when you feel alone in this world, when times are hard, when things just aren't going smoothly, etc.

I guess when we are forced indoors by cold weather, we're also made more aware of ourselves and our thoughts turn inward as well, to times long gone, people who've come into our lives and those who have departed, either by their own choosing or by death.

Today has been spent in quiet contemplation about that very thing- the past, that is and mostly on one person in particular. Much as I've been hurt in past relationships, I've always believed it would be my folly to ever take pleasure or laugh over their troubles or mistakes.

I never ended any of my relationships- unfortunately I was always the dumped, not the dumper & I got my heart broken enough times that I stopped keeping track because it just hurt too much, but I would never wish them harm or heartache or sadness. I like to believe I'm a more compassionate person than that. At least, I like to hope so.

But then today I got a text. Random coincidence or what have you- an ex of mine talked to someone who knows someone close to me and told that person he should have stayed with me and he cried over losing me. He showed remorse.

And I laughed out loud.

I LAUGHED- just long enough for a twinge of guilt to shoot through me and make me clamp my lips tightly over my teeth to bite back another round of laughter. I felt so awful- so downright vile and EVIL, that it has gnawed at me all day.

There was no reason for me to laugh at his sadness or tears. I cried plenty over him because I loved him with all my heart, whether anyone else understood my reasons or not, even him. Most thought I was a fool and maybe I was, but I loved him and he knew it. I had a small inkling of how he felt toward me, but he never said it back.

So....Maybe he really does realize, after nearly 10 years, what a mistake it was to let me go, but even before I met the man who is my husband now, it had been over between me and this other man for over a year. Before I left I even told him I was sorry when he tried to convince me to stay and be with him. It was too little too late and I told him so- I had loved him for 7 years and dated him off and on during that time, but I had felt like I had NEVER been enough for him and I finally reasoned I never would be, so I made a decision and moved on with my life.

He tried very hard to prove he had changed and knew he wanted to be with me- he even had some of his friends try to plead with me on his behalf that things were different— that he was different. And I was moved by the effort, but not enough to run back into his arms, not after all the times he had hurt me and broken my heart. He was significant in my life and I loved him, still do- but not that way.

I've worried about him these past years. I worried that he would end up alone and unhappy and I'm afraid that IS what's become of his life, but I used to tell him that he'd regret it someday- treating me like I meant so little, acting like I'd always be around for him to come back "home" to when he had the notion, when he was run out everywhere else.

His parting words to me when I got ready to move here, to make my new life, the life I'm living now, were "You'll be back in 3 months and I'll get what I want."

It didn't happen that way and now he finds himself, nearly 10 years later, crying on the shoulder of a stranger about me.

I didn't mean to laugh, really I didn't. I really AM more compassionate than that, and I believe that it's better for me not to carry the anger, hatred and hurt from the past around like an ugly badge of survival as though I'm some victim. Sure I got involved and I got my heart broken, but everyone has or will at some point in their lives.

Relationships happen and most have a beginning, a middle and an end, we just don't know the time frame when we start the relationship. Some feel like they're doomed from start, but last for decades while others feel like they'll last forever and then they end so abruptly you can't breath because the loss feels like a fatal gunshot wound through the heart.

This was a relationship doomed from the start, but I get it now that I'm older....

And yet, for a brief moment it was as if I got some sort of justification, some sort of clarity that I wasn't SO wrong after all about how he felt about me. Perhaps I wasn't some young blubbering idiot when I believed he DID love me in his own way and that he just didn't know how to say it OR show it. Or maybe he didn't know it back then...

No matter the case, I look back, I see the reflection, the ripple he was on the pond of my youth, and I'm thankful that he was there. Even though we went our separate ways, even though he's figured it out much too late.

I can't change the heartache he caused me all those years ago, no more than I can change the heartache he feels now. I feel bad that he has regrets in regard to me and I feel awful that I laughed to know he cried, but all I can do now is pray for him to find peace in his heart, for things that cannot be changed. Our feet cannot travel those roads anymore, we cannot retrace our steps except in our mind's eye and even then, it's not always wise to journey backward, for it gets us nowhere.

After all, they are only just reflections....