Stages of a Journey: Somewhere in Between

Birds of a Feather                                                                                                                      Catherine Al-Meten Meyers

At any given time, we find ourselves at various stages of experiences, conditions, and relationships. Before something happens, as it is happening, and in the aftermath of what has come before. All this applies to us regardless of who we are or what we do. There's are the moments before a big event, the event itself, and the reflections and consequences of what we experienced. Whether it is going to university, getting married or divorced, having children, making a home for ourselves, or caring for our family member and friends as they reach the end of their lives. We have great joys and sorrows, and we have a lot of the in between times as well. Writers experience the multi-layers of experience in just about everything we do.

There's the seeding and germination time when we come up with ideas or begin to envision a new creation. We get ideas or inspiration for poetry or music. We discover lyrics on a walk, or a tune in the shower. We find meaning and purpose as we struggle to find solutions to big problems. We have doubts, fears, and worries, yet we plunge ahead into the unknown despite them. We may spend time, sometimes a lot of time, wondering if we should or not. Wondering if we're good enough or not. Wondering if what we're doing is worth the energy. Wondering if anyone will care or notice or be touched.  Something about writing though, is in itself, the answer to just about any problem or challenge. Through our writing, we explore and discover. Through our writing, we reveal our true thoughts or uncover the hidden treasure trove of our minds and imagination. And we write regardless of what stage we're in.

Beginnings are times when we take great risks. We set out into the unknown. We may have maps, charts, list, plans, and diagrams all set down as if their creation alone will bring the desired result. But we also know, as writers, that's seldom how it goes. The journey itself is one that may thrive on some structure, but it may also be limited and blocked by too much of the expectations that require us to lose touch with the serendipity and whimsy that drives so much of our imagination. We learn to let go at times, and we learn to use our planning and list-making to help us when need be. Beginnings find us stepping into the darkness of the unknown, the incomplete, the unfinished, and the wide open spaces. Our desires and dedication keep us going forward, like that proverbial one step at a time. We put pen to page or fingers to keyboard, and let go. We let go of the yoke of wondering long enough to let the words come. And they come. Good writers keep going. Uncertain writers, keep backing up and editing as they go, thereby slowing down the process and momentum. Some great writers say they don't look back until they reach the very end. That's a very brave act, but one that helps keep us in the present of the characters and stories that are flowing out of us. When we get entangled and bogged down in starts and stops or mechanical and electronic glitches, our creativity level and patience may plummet.

Somewhere along the way, we discover ourselves well into the story we have created. And then what? We wake up each day, or sit up every night, letting the story go on. We wait for the characters to tell us where they're going, or what they're thinking, and then we get quiet, antsy perhaps, and wait. Nothing much happens until we trust the next word that we commit to paper or screen. Starting is all it takes, for there is always more to say. When we start hearing voices tell us things like, "You're never going to finish this," "there's something wrong about three chapters back...go back and fix it", or "what if this is all crap?"   Of course Anne Lamott tells us there's always the 'first shitty rough draft", and that seems to be so. So we work until we reach an end point, and then we start rereading rewriting, and critiquing ourselves, ad infinitum. And if we have editors, readers, agents, or well meaning friends, we get plenty of advice and criticism. So at what point do we get to the point where we've worked a piece enough? There must be something about the end of the calendar year with writers, because many writers I know spend the fall and early winter days and nights, reworking, editing, rewriting, and getting work done that has to be done before publication. Sometimes we are told we need to rewrite or reread or change something major about our work. And we have to decide for ourselves, what is the next best thing to do here?

We may rewrite and spend a few more months getting things ready or cleaned up or prepared for a deadline. We may reread and do a mad dash to some imaginary deadline (the kind we give ourselves so we get things done). Many of us learned to do all-nighters when we were students or teachers, or when we were Mothers trying to get it all done in the hours we weren't working full time. Yes, we're skilled at pushing ourselves. A good trait for a writer, but we also have to do the caretaking part. We need rest. We need fuel for the fires of our passions. We need diversion and time to simply get lost or to bury ourselves in some good piece of literature or a hour or two in film land or a day or two by the beach or in the mountains. A horseback ride always provides me with a true sense of taking a break. A time when we get out of our daily grind, our normal mode of operation, and shake things up a bit. Today is a New Moon, and having made several decisions that will help me move into the final stage of this book's creation, I find myself wanting to jump over the hurdles to the end zone magically.

Only endings don't usually come about as a result of some magical act, Divine intervention, or wish granted by the genie in the jar. Endings arrive slowly but surely by picking up all the pieces, taking each step and addressing all the steps that are required to give birth to the next book. There's a system and process that is required whether you submit your work to a publisher or publish your own work as an indie author. We get to the end in any number of ways, but there are steps than need to be done. For some, this process part of the journey is in no way appealing. Just as we discover our parenting skills, we find ourselves as writers too. When you become a parent, you have no idea how you're going to respond to the different demands made of a parent. There are some ages that we are better at than others. There are some of us who try to be consistent with our parenting; they're the ones that may have a harder time when our children, unlike robots, do not stick with the plan.

Children grow and carry their own temperments and destinies around with them, and we can be supportive and help out when we can, or we can block, challenge, hinder, or miss the boat and miss knowing the real person who is our child. As our children age and make their own way in life, they change. And we must do so likewise, if we want to remain at all connected or relevant to them. Their lives are not our lives, and they are dealing with a lot we didn't have to. We can offer support and give advice only when asked, or we can judge and build walls between what we expect and what we are being offered. And if you are not a parent, you are a child of one. And we carry around the role playing with us even when they are no longer alive. We develop similarly with friends. With some friendships, there is room to grow; with others we can only be friends if we continually return to the points where we met and engaged in the first place. That may work for some; it doesn't work if you change.

The idea of adjusting to the different stages of life, life as a writer or artist or whatever we do, demands that we be open to receiving new information, of getting assistance, of relinquishing our need to control some things, and to develop the discipline to remain steadfast when all we want to do is be done.  And so endings, as hard as they might be to reach, do come. The end of anything comes in that moment of decision. I've followed the steps, completed the processes, revisited the questions, and set aside some choices for others. Now the moment has come to decide, what's next? Do I reread and rewrite one more time? Do I push the magic button and let the presses roll? Do I take a long vacation and hope I dream about the perfect answer?  Today, I have no idea. Today I've made a few decisions, and feel good about the choice of cover I've made. That may be enough for today. For we writers do share one thing in common. When we're on a roll, we want t keep that momentum going. Make one decision; why not make ten more? Why not? Well, because it's not necessary.There are other things that need tending to, and the next right decision will be there when I return to this point again.

For now, I'm setting aside the need to choose anything more. Setting aside the push to go farther, when what I need is to get some exercise and have some lunch.  Time to take a breather, and that, I believe, is a key to what makes writing more than just a passion. Writing is a lifestyle that demands we tend the fires, feed the body and soul, and take time to have a life apart from the words and pages and characters we spend so much time with. Everyone is happier and healthier when we honor the need for balance. The sun has disappeared behind the haze that is settling in here on the coast. The midday hour has come and gone, and it's now time to let go of the need for words, for now. This piece of this morning's journey is over. On to the next scene.