Dreams, Grief, and Finding Meaning

 Eleanor Roosevelt once remarked, "The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams." As this year ends, and we prepare for a new year to begin let's ponder a while. What dreams do we have? What hopes do we hold for the future? What came to mind when I asked myself this question, was a poem I first heard when I was a young woman in my Black Poetry class. The poem, "Harlem" by Langston Hughes reads:

What happens to a dream deferred?

      Does it dry up

      like a raisin in the sun?

      Or fester like a sore—

      And then run?

      Does it stink like rotten meat?

      Or crust and sugar over—

      like a syrupy sweet?

      Maybe it just sags

      like a heavy load.

      Or does it explode?

The images though harsh, evoke images of waste, rotting, drying out, suppressing. Those words speak to me of letting things go. They draw images of rotting fruit, what once was ripe and ready for picking and eating, now left to rot. Or to hang on the branch until it's ready to fall to the ground. And then we have the last line...evoking the violent eruption of a piece of rotting fruit that bursts its own skin under the heat of the sun? What drew me to this powerful poem as a young woman? The thought that perhaps I would never be able to achieve my goals, live out my dreams, or find my way to the purpose that now drives me?

I doubt that I would have known the answer to that question then, any more than I know the answer now. However, what I do know is that dreams come to us for a reason. The dreams we dream at night knock on our conscious mind to remind us of something we need to pay attention to in our waking lives. The dreams we have to do or be or create, or make or find, come to us from the well within us as well as the pull we feel from the connections we have to the Divine Universal fountain of Truth, what Jung called, the Collective Unconscious. Whatever 'it' is, the dreams we have for ourselves and the ones we hold for those we love, are so much a part of what sparks our creativity, our daily life search for meaning, and the quest we each have as humans to experience ourselves in the fullness of our being.

Some dreams are big dreams, ones that take years to accomplish, achieve, or create. We may long to learn something, to train ourselves or become capable of doing something of service or beauty or kindness for others. As I sit here on this snowy morning, looking out into the garden and yard, the doves flying back and forth in pairs, across the snowy lawn, from the snow-ladden branches of the pines to the back garden of the lady who scatters birdseed for them, I am transfixed by the simple beauty of life as it is in this moment. Living the dream. 

For so many of us, these past few years have been times of great trial and loss. Grief hangs heavy over us all, even if we've not lost anyone. We are more than aware of how our losses travel with us, and may become incorporated in our dreams, our hopes for the future. A future without those who have been present, but are not more near enough to touch. A future which honors those we have loved so well or as well as we were able. A future which gives us each the chances and opportunities that have escaped those who are no more alive. The future which, for a great part, is up to us to create. To weave our grief into our hopes and dreams. To take what we can hold onto from the past that helps us build a new and more promising picture than we might think we can. 

Over the years I have watched as others have experienced great losses, and then have gone on living. The struggles that many have gone through always seem to me like the feats of some of the most courageous people I know. With the weight of the losses strapped to their backs and hearts, they trudged out into life to carry on. To take some time when possible, to rest and weep and sit in the cold numbness of pain, but to then pull themselves to their feet to continue  on. Sudden losses, seem the worst, and leave those left behind, unprepared for the shock. Whether by a sudden death from a surprising burst in the heart or brain, or from a jump off a bridge to the cold, hard, crushing murky waters of a suicide, the losses that happen suddenly, leave us with a gaping hole in our souls. And these losses either take us with them or require a difficult journey to find meaning and purpose in something that seems almost impossible. 

Yet, there are so many among us, who have had the tenacity to go on with living and in so doing, to find new dreams and weave those shocking losses into the meaningful fabric of their own lives. Most often it is done through service to others, sacrifice of time and life to help those who suffer more. Or to throw oneself into ourselves into work, putting more meaning into each new day, because at the back of the mind is the thought that "if only it hadn't..." and that hope in the heart that 'if only I could...'. 

As I look out the window today, I'm reminded of the last times I spoke to, saw, or even thought of those who now I go to in spirit to offer prayers of remorse, gratitude, sorrow, and love. The roses growing beneath the snow in my garden, from one who means so much to me, lost in May. Books, candles, memories of talks over glasses of wine, cups of tea and coffee, missed messages, and dreams of crossing dark rivers. Missing friends who just seemed to disappear, only to discover they had died, and I had not been told. Cut off from those who hold such a special place in my heart and life, but forgotten because the link that connected us was broken by death. 

People offer condolences to we, the living, when we speak of those we have lost to death. It shocks me for who can console us for losing a piece of ourselves, while we still go on living? How do we console and offer sympathy to someone else? I do not know. How can someone offer me condolences, when I'm not the one who is lost. I am the one who remains and must carry on. I still have this one precious life, as Mary Oliver says, to live and to go forward. Not to refuse to bear the  weight of my grief, but to use the burden and heaviness to find a way to break through to the tears and sorrow that release me from the fear that blocks my dreams, that dampens my hope, and that drags me down into despair where I cannot move. 

What condolence I need is what  Viktor Frankl found after a few months after being liberated from the concentration camp where he lost everyone he loved. Where he suffered torture and abuse and where he witnessed, man's inhumanity to his fellow humans. Walking through a field of flowers one day:

“We came to meadows full of flowers. We saw and realized that they were there, but we had no feelings about them. The first spark of joy came when we saw a rooster with a tail of multicolored feathers. But it remained only a spark; we did not yet belonged to this world.”

On yet another day a few months later, he walked through the same field, the flowers in bloom, and that time, he experienced  their beauty. He wrote that he knew in that he knew in that moment, some part of life had flickered back into being within him.

Why I chose to write about grief and life's meaning and dreams today, is because, well because we are all wrapped up in all three. They are part of who we are as a whole society of human beings, and what our individual lives are often consumed by. All too often, we get lost in hopelessness, despair, or whatever weighs us down to where we can't function or dream. And for that reason today, I reach out with some thoughts about what is not easy about life, but what is so necessary. The need to keep awake to our dreams. A need to honor and mourn those we've lost. The need to find meaning and the impetus to keep moving forward, and the passion to fuel our dreams so that we can live our our lives with meaning and purpose...with some focus on soothing the pain of others and encouraging each other to live as fully as is possible. 

I leave you with some final thoughts by Viktor Frankl, author, psychiatrist, neurologist, and founder of Logotheraphy, a third branch of  Viennese psychotherapy. The main premise of logotheraphy is that the main purpose of life is to find meaning, regardless of what our experiences are.

*Written at a time when 'he' meant both he/she, I have taken the liberty of changing his quote to make it easier for some to not be distracted by the antiquated language usage of the pronouns. I hope he will forgive me. 

“When we find that it is our  destiny to suffer, we

will have to accept our suffering as our task; our single

and unique task. we will have to acknowledge the fact

that even in suffering each person is unique and alone in the

universe. No one can relieve us  of our suffering or

suffer in our place. Our unique opportunity lies in the

way in which we bears our burden.”

From: Viktor E. Frankl, Man's Search for Meaning

What brings you peace? What dreams do you have? What purpose are you pursuing? As this year ends and a new one begins, you might find the questions that spark your imagination, motivate you to move forward, or invite you to ponder and find your passion for life and for living.

Ahimsa: A practice of doing no harm

 

Ahimsa, the practice of doing no harm, is one of the most important and powerful  spiritual practices there is. In all great world spiritual traditions, there is the command to do no harm, to oneself or to others. When life is going well, it's fairly easy to understand and to practice Ahimsa. It is not always easy to practice though. However when we are in the throes of despair, depression, or simply trying to survive a major crisis, it becomes much more difficult. That is when we most need to incorporate this practice into our daily lives.

What is Ahimsa? Ahimsa is one of the yamas (steps/stages) of the path of yoga. The word, ahimsa, is derived from the Sanskrit word hims which means to strike. Ahimsa means to refrain from striking or harming. The practice itself of course refers to how we treat others and how we use our words, actions, thoughts, and intentions to build up or tear down those with whom we communicate or come into contact with. 

The practice of doing no harm begins, however, with how we treat ourselves, how we talk to ourselves, and how we tell others who we are. Something I find in my spiritual counseling practice is that often when a person is struggling with major life crises, trauma, or transitions, they revert to belittling or debasing themselves. Mentally or verbally programming themselves to fail, they throw up roadblocks in front of the path before them.

Why is Ahimsa important at times when we are at our lowest ebb? Generally, when we are faced with obstacles, conflicts, struggles, or the ongoing result of  the normal but difficult trials of life, we lose confidence. Shame takes over. Fear steps in. A sense of failure rises up from within. Where one day we felt in control and content, we suddenly find ourselves thrown for a loop. If only we could remember that the course of life is generally full of ruts and potholes and unexpected snags. We don't though. We perpetually believe that 'if only' we behave or achieve or turn our backs or otherwise make some decision about a troubling situation, we'll not have to deal with the energy that a relationship, a job, an unwanted condition, or unexpected shock stirs up. Ahimsa, the practice of paying attention to how we are talking to and about ourselves, our situations, and experiences, and the people with whom we are connected, requires that we slow down and reflect. Two things we have a lot of trouble doing in our world. Slowing our pace and reflecting on what we are creating with our words and thoughts are not practices that many of us are used to doing. If our common experience on this planet during the worldwide pandemic has taught us anything, it is how important this practice of doing no harm is to us as individuals, as members of an interlinked society, and as inhabitants on a fragile planet.



Ahimsa is tool that anyone can use. It costs nothing, but some of your attention and time. Most of us are goal/task/time oriented with the priorities of our busy or stressful lives. Others who suffer great trauma are thrown into relying only on those inner resources as they struggle for survival and balance. Ahimsa, the art and act of doing no harm to ourselves and others, is crucial to everyone's well being. Think back to a time, perhaps the most stressful time of your life. One of those big event moments. Perhaps it was an accident, a death, or a situation on a battlefield or an act of violence.  Pick something that you are far enough away from so as to allow some time for healing or adjusting. Remember if you will, how you responded to what was going on around you. What, if any, feelings took over? What was your perception at the time, and then what was your perception of the event after it was over? Spend a little time reflecting on how you made it through that experience and what remains of the energy connections to that time.

You survived. Perhaps you still feel the residual effects of the experience, perhaps you feel it's all in the past. Whatever we experience stays with us in some form, so pretending it didn't happen or doesn't matter is not coping with the situation. At least not in the long run. Our bodies, our minds, and our spirit do numb us out sometimes to help us get through a particularly painful or frightening experience. Other times we become hyper-vigilant, reacting to anything that triggers a painful or frightening reminder. We all have different ways of coping. In the long run however, we are given the opportunity of being reminded of the pain, the experience, and the effects on our lives. We also can use Ahimsa to tune into the pain, fear, anxiety, or despair that may creep into or jolt us awake with its reminder.

How can we learn to use Ahimsa to cope with stress, traumatic scars, unhealed heartache, or other kinds of challenging and hurtful experiences? If you're like me, when something strikes the chord of terror or fear in me, I get busy. I put my energy into doing something. I might stay up all night scrubbing old pots until they are shiny, or throw myself into my work or into helping others with their problems. It works for a while. But then it stops being the panacea, the saving grace that gets me through. There comes a time with chronic stress, unhealed trauma, and intergenerational patterns of pain and negative energy when I need to find a way to start getting to the root of the problems that initiated and perpetuated my current situation. If we are the sum total of all that has happened to us (and that carries through our family line), we can understand how my behavior is linked to something beyond my immediate situation.

Not wanting to dwell and get trapped in past energy means we need to periodically work on becoming more aware, clearer, and healthier in the way we live and respond. Ahimsa begins with turning our attention to our thoughts, feelings, physical responses, and levels and tone of energy. Rather than empyting your mind, listen to what is going on in your mind. What are your thoughts about a difficult or fearful situation? What are you telling yourself? Often it sounds something like, "I can't do....", or "I never get....", or "No one will ever love me...", "That's impossible.."  You have your own script for those times when you feel trapped. And to start with, just notice what comes up in your thinking or how you are talking about a situation or how you're talking to someone. Avoid judging or trying to change anything right away; just notice what you tend to think, do, say, or feel. With Ahimsa, we want to avoid judging or berating ourselves--both forms of self harm. It's not that we are never sorry or feel bad about something. Rather we're looking to face what is authentic in our own patterns, thinking, and process so we can do something to improve it.

Ahimsa is first of all paying attention, noticing, and do so with intention. Many of us process what we've done after the fact. Monday morning quarterbacking? This is a practice to paying attention in motion. Ahimsa then is about determining what about your behavior, your thinking, your feelings, and whatever other messages (the external ones--how others relate to you) are damaging to yourself and to others. Ahimsa is also about how you're viewing the world. A good practice of Ahimsa is to notice your thoughts and words while you're driving...especially when you're in heavy traffic or someone has cut you off or been rude to you. What's your response? Just notice.

Ahimsa is not about beating ourselves up over who we are or what we feel or think, but it is about paying attention and becoming more aware and conscious of how we think, speak, feel affects our  lives. When we revisit the traumatic or powerful event that I asked you to recall earlier, reflect on whether or not something akin to paying attention and listening to that inner voice that helps you in tough times, was present. When we slow ourselves down just a bit, and when we pay closer attention to how and what we're thinking and feeling, we have this wonderful opportunity to remember who we are. We can remember the goodness and positive intentions we have had. We can examine the areas where we've fallen down or missed the point and we can learn to be gentle with ourselves and others. By being clearer and by more attuned to our authentic self, we can learn to heal, rebuild, and learn how to cope more effectively. Ahimsa is a practice that helps us stand with a firm knowledge of who we are, in any situation. And all of us, are survivors.

We have come through some hard times. If we hadn't, we wouldn't be here now. Remember who you are, and treat yourself with kindness. Address the issues in your lives that are making it hard to find balance, harmony, and a sense of worth. Not facing the truth will just make things worse. Stop blaming yourself and others, and use some simple practices, including Ahimsa, to help reshape your life in the form of a Path of Life and Light rather that death and fear.

Particularly for those of you who suffer from the results of war-related and other traumatic events,  Ahimsa can be one tool that helps you cope with some of the recurring patterns and reactions, and learn how to channel your thoughts, feelings, and energy into more healing ways of responding to ongoing stressors. In conjunction with some positive, supportive counseling and relationships,  Ahimsa can help alleviate or temper some of the more emotional and jarring reactions. And it can help you better understand the reasons that the memories are so difficult to simply let go of or stuff down. One thing we have learned about war-related stress (other types of trauma as well) is that trying to stuff it down by not talking about it has adverse effects in the long run. WWII and Vietnam veterans for example, as they aged, have had much more difficulty with suppressed memories and repression and depression. One big reason is the socially accptable behavior of burying feelings, not talking about old war wounds, and the  tamping down of hurtful memories. Ahimsa, with support, can help  you avoid aggravating issues in your life, by giving you a tool, a new habit that helps you deal with trauma bit by bit. For those of you who use prayer, mediation, and other spiritual practices to help deal with the stresses of war, life, and adjusting, this is simply one more tool to help in the healing process.

This week, when you feel yourself getting upset or fearful or uncertain, remember Ahimsa, and give it a try. See if it doesn't help you experience greater inner peace and more acceptance of what you can and cannot do, be, or change. Let yourself do no harm to yourself, and in the process you might also forgive yourself for those failures, shortcomings, or lacks that make you feel less than. You are a full, rich, whole person, and you have the gift of life. Choose to use it for the good of yourself and others. This too is Holy.

How are you practicing ahimsa/doing no harm to yourself, to others, and to the world in which you live today? Take one step to treat yourself just a bit more gently. 

Hiatus: In the Eye of the Storm

According to the Oxford English Dictionary,  "A hiatus is a gap or a pause taken amid a series, sequence, or process." That is what I'm going to call the long silence of this blog, Coasting Along: A Writer's Journey.  Since last posting on this blog, I have been busy living and writing. However, the pace of life coupled with the arrival of the pandemic in early 2020 have made it necessary for me, along with millions of other people worldwide, to reorder their priorities. 

While often a hiatus is planned for in advance, I give you the idea of taking a sabbatical, in my case the gap was not intentional. One of the perils of being a writer is the tendency to stray away from the task at hand because of other events and demands. During the last two years, for that's how long it's been, I was busy finding a new home and moving, learning how to navigate the waters of the pandemic, and spending inordinate amounts of time redoing and reworking different aspects of my life as a writer. For some, the pandemic and its subsequent stay-at-home orders have meant having more time to be more creative. For others, it has meant feeling like we were crawling through hot tar in our underwear. For me, it was the latter. 

Already used to working from home, there was little to get used to. What was most difficult for me was maintaining the energy, focus, and motivation I needed to do as much writing. My focus and attention was instead lazer-focused on what has been going on in our culture and the political environment. How close we came to losing our democracy and system of government. Anything that distracted me from learning all I could and doing what I could to fight for my country, my energy was drained, and my motivation was diminished. As I look back at the two years, I could catalogue the many ways I channeled my time, but that would not accurately capture the meaning of this time as it had a impact on my life as a writer. 

This morning when I woke up in the wee small hours of the morning (a newly acquired pandemic and political disruption habit), I read an article written by a member of the British military. He wrote about the importance of learning to cope with the effects of traumatic events, for him, PTSD as a result of his experiences in war. For me, as has been the case for far too long, the effects of trauma were more akin to those who experience what is called contact trauma. Primary trauma results from direct experience in a traumatic event or series of events. Contact trauma is when you are directly affected by trauma experienced by those with whom you are in close contact. For example, a spouse might experience contact trauma when her/his partner is in a dangerous situation. A husband or wife whose partner is in an active war zone, or a rape victim's partner. 

Overlap between primary and contact stress  often occurs, especially when many people are experiencing an ongoing traumatic event. The pandemic is an example where large numbers of people, in this case, most of the world's population, experience ongoing trauma and a variety of diverse reactions and responses from their experiences.

I wrote this article last year, and never posted it, as my hiatus from writing my blogs  began before I finished this piece. As 2021 has brought much-needed change and some relief with it, I am now tracing my steps to see where I left off with life, including the blogs.  Today I will publish this piece, but it wasn't the only thing I've written nor will it be my last blog post. It will be, I hope, the first of more regular posts that reflect on my writing life. Hope you are finding ways to continue your creative life as well, and I look forward to a new season ahead.

 On this last day of Winter, 2021, I wish you a fruitful year ahead, a healing one, and one which like a seed planted last fall, begins to poke its first shoots through the ground into the light of Spring. 

Coasting Along: Body in the Gallery Available Now

Cover Shot for Body in the Gallery    C.J. Meyers

Body in the Gallery, the second in the Lenora Whitley Cat's Tale Mystery series, is now available in both paperback and ebook versions online.  For those of you who are writers, you know how much it means to finish a book and get it ready for release. I'm in that rather euphoric state of nearly complete exhaustion and exhilaration that follows the completion of a big project. Yesterday the ebook went live and today I received the news that the paperback is now available to be ordered too.

Thrilled as I am to finish this book, Body in the Gallery, I am also excited for you, the readers, to read this next installment of Lenora "Lennie" Whitley's adventures.  There will be a third book in this series, as well as a new series that I've been working on. A new cast of characters has shown up to tell me their stories, and to urge me to get to work on their first adventure. Suffice it to say, that I'll be doing that shortly, but first, it's time to rest, refuel, and restore.

Creating anything results in generating energy. For some of us, that means we fuel up through the creative process itself.  Often when working on a long, involved project, I find release through writing poetry or playing music.  In my writing mode, when I actually put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard, I do not listen to music. In fact, I need a great deal of quiet and calm. However, once I'm finished with a big project or when taking a break, music helps me release energy and restore.

Writing poetry allows me to operate purely out of inspiration (I edit later, not during the creating process), and music allows me to wake up my senses and gets me into the expression of other moods, feelings, and ideas. Poetry too, is often a way to feel some sense of completion. The book writing, editing, publication process is just that. A process. A long process, and though I do try to take regular breaks and celebrate small steps along the way, until the book is in print and on the shelf or in the hands of my readers, it's not done. If it's not done, I don't rest. At least I don't rest mentally. There's always more to do.

Poetry, on the other hand,  is usually written on a whim. I might ponder an idea for a poem for a while, but when I set to writing a poem, it usually comes as a steady, unhampered stream of inspiration and images. When I later compile poetry into a collection, I edit and smooth out the pieces. By the way, in the middle of writing Body in the Gallery, I wrote and published my fourth volume of poetry, Sea Change Poetry of Transformation. I haven't even gotten around to doing much marketing, as once it was completed and published, I went right back to work on BIG (Body in the Gallery).

BIG is what my editors, readers, and I nicknamed this latest book. The first in the series, Body on the Beach, was called, you guessed it, BOB. Just a 'little known fact little worth knowing' as my daughter's father would say.  Love that expression, as I love so much about language. Another thing you might be interested in learning is how much we fiction writers actually learn as we do our writing. At least I'm guessing most good writer do this. Research is so important. While my sleuth, Lenora 'Lennie' Whitley, is not a trained law enforcement professional. She does, however, work with them.

As a former big city reporter for a major newspaper, she was the investigative reporter. We learn this about Lennie, through some of the contacts she maintains, and some of what she understands about criminal justice. She is, however, not a professional. That means as an author, I have to do enough research to make her character and interactions believable enough. As an author though, I reserve the right to use creative license in hopes that my readers will be able to suspend belief just a bit. It's what poet Coleridge called, poetic faith. We allow ourselves to travel into the imagination of the writer to see through that lens and understand the world as the characters do.  This may not always be in alignment with the facts, man, just the facts.

My editors/prepublication readers keep reminding me what is believable and what is not.  I write about dreams. For those of us who know and work with our dreams, we understand that is a whole other area that requires a suspension of belief. When we are dealing with the bizarre, macabre, and surreal realm of images and messages, we know that we can't take what we dream at face value. At least not always. The truth appears amid stark, conflicting images.

The puzzles or questions our subconscious struggles with, receive clues and answers in ways that often require our own poetic faith in order to comprehend what they might mean in the reality of our waking lives. Lennie has the gift of dreams, and they often appear with no obvious connection to her life or the life of the mystery unfolding around her. As dreams do though, the dream always has some element that points us and our character, Lennie, in the direction of answers, solutions, and clues.

Coasting Along: A Writer's Journey is an irregular blog. Today I am compelled to write, and what is the obvious thing to write about? The process, the art, the challenge, and the joy of writing. Truly, when a writer is done writing a book, it's entirely possible that you'll find that writer writing something else. You see writing is not just the creative act, it is also the life-giving, life-affirming, and life-altering act of love. We writers love the words, and love to use the written word to express what cannot be done in other ways. I admire so much my artist friends who have the talent, discipline, and gift of expressing themselves through their art. And I admire anyone who uses their work as a way to give life to others while enriching themselves spiritually, emotionally, psychologically, and creatively at the same time.

Hope you enjoy reading my latest mystery or some of my poetry. I hope both encourage you to follow your passions and dreams as well.  Don't wait for permission to start something you love. Do it, and do it now. Even if you only just begin. A few steps, a few words, a few strokes of the brush or pen will add up. More importantly, you will release something powerful from within. You will allow your voice to emerge in the unique way that only you can do. Try it. You'll learn to like it and perhaps love it.  Happy creating all.

Visit my Author's Page where you will find all my books, both paperback and ebooks.

A Writer's Journey: Shift, Sort, Soften, Surrender

*In the middle of two consecutive yoga classes, the ideas for this poem came to me, repeating over and over the four words, shift, sort, soften, and surrender. This poem is the start of their journey together.

Taking Flight                                                     Catherine Al-Meten Meyers

A Writer’s Journey

Shift. 

Sort.

Soften.

Surrender.

Shift

Conversion

Revolution

Transformation

Metamorphosis

Transmutation

Flip flop

Renewal

To set apart

To  rearrange

To move from one place to another

To change, alter, divide into parts

To replace and change focus.

Sort

Ilk

Type

Kind

Arrange

Separate

Put into order

Clarify

Evolve

Develop

Clarify

Classify

Put into context

Identify with as family

Characterize

Rank

Determine the nature of

Name as kin, friend, foe, object.

Review.

Soften

Ease

Calm

Quiet

Alleviate

Relieve

Soothe

Mitigate

Mollify

Pacify

Allay

Diminish

Dulcify

Diminish

Assuage

Cushion

Quell

Temper

Mellow

Compose.

Surrender

Yield

Abandon

Give in

Give up

Resign

Relinquish

Abandon

Relent

Renunciate

Capitulate

Acquiesce

Submit to the will of

The Divine

Omnipotent

Omniscient

Omnipresent

Creator

Infinite Spirit

God

Allah

the Almighty

Source.

Spirit

Totem

Father, Mother, Creation

Divine Creative Breath

All in All. 

Eternal

Essence.

Being

Kernel

Aspect

Basis

Lifeblood

Nature

Marrow

Nucleus

Soul

Root

Nature

Principle

Backbone

Crux

Nature

Pith

Reality

Structure

Essentia.

The beginning of the journey.

Copyright@2018, Catherine Al-Meten Meyers.

Quantifying Goals and Dreams: Ready, Set, Question, Go!

Bird House                                  Catherine Al-Meten Meyers

From my early writing days using pen and paper and tapping away on my Smith-Corona, writing tools have changed a lot. Where paper files, notebooks, and file cabinets once filled boxes and boxes, they now take up a much smaller space and serve a different purpose. How times have changed, and my writing process with it. My laptop has taken the place of my typewriter, and though I still do some writing by hand, the electronic systems are my main tools. What I keep paper copies of are final drafts, current finances, and jotted down ideas or journal entries.

Probably the last time I made a concerted effort to organize paper files, I was living in a home in the old Ft. Ord officer's housing. Built originally for families of military service members, the space and arrangements were well suited for good views and ample closet and wall space. I recall setting up my glass-topped desk, and coming up with a color code and system for files. My goal that day just after new years a long time ago was to set my priorities for writing in order as well as my financial business dealings.

At the same time I was being mentored on starting my own business and setting goals for myself. What my wise mentor Robert Kramer taught me was to project money goals forward just like I would writing and research assignments. I was very experienced by that point in setting goals for myself related to assignments and writing, but to do the same thing with my financial plans and goals was new. My way of handling finances was to deal with what I had on hand. Pay checks came at regular intervals, depending on the job. Running my own business, however, was a horse of a different sort.

The very idea of projecting income, that is imagining how much I wanted to earn in the future was shocking to me. My way would have been, to consider how much I could get together or how many hours I needed to get paid work to bring in money. My attempts at using credit were short-lived and unsuccessful. I preferred working with what I had. It felt safer. What it did, however, was block possibilities and opportunities, energetically. When we do not conceive of an idea, it seldom manifests into our reality. It might do so occasionally as if it's a stroke of luck or a fluke, but when we put our minds to something, when we imagine a possibility, it becomes much stronger.

And if we want to see our desires expressed in quantifiable terms, in some form, we need to get a clearer idea of what that looks like. As you want to experience love through actions not just words, so too do we need to see our ideas manifest in some form--art, literature, drama, music, service, program development, a good or a utility. What I learned through the Small Business Administration mentorship program was to learn to quantify not just my services (counseling, editing, writing) or goods (books, articles, retreat/workshops)  but also my time, energy, and resources (human and otherwise).

I remember Robert asking me what I saw myself doing 5 or 10 years down the road. As I was determined to be a full time writer, my goal was to write and publish a book successfully. He then asked me how I would define success. My vague answer of hoping people would buy the book, read it, and like it, led to his next question. "How many books would you have to sell to be successful?" I had no idea, at the time.  He showed me how to estimate and quantify my goals into something measurable. For creatives such as myself, quantifying is sometimes difficult. However, the more successful I am as a writer, the more important being able to get comfortable with this aspect of a career in writing becomes.

Part of my dream was to write a book.  I felt like I had the capacity to do that, but was more concerned with how to support myself outside the academic or business world's systems/institutions. The transition between being partly connected to an institution/business has not been straight forward. At times I took temporary jobs to meet my needs. Finally, when that option disappeared due to the strain it was taking on my health and resources, I left the part time connections. My temporary part time teaching job seemed ideal, however the energy, time, and resources I needed for the work drew from the same well that writing needed. It took it's toll on my health, and created a minor crisis that opened one door and closed another.

While spending an ample amount of time pursuing my new career as a  full time writer and photographer, I kept taking part time gigs, wrote for online news organizations, and helped out raising my Granddaughter before she was ready for school. All of this took its toll and didn't provide me with much of an income.  In January at the start of a new term teaching, I felt really ill and went to a new doctor. At the same time, I had contacted our local social assistance counselor to ask some questions about medical insurance. My contact with these two people, helped turn my life around, in the right direction.

The first person I met was a doctor who has the skills we would all love in a healer. She listened. She observed. And she is a brilliant diagnostician, so she correctly diagnosed a disorder that had been afflicting me for years. I had no idea because the symptoms weren't extreme, at least not on the outside. Internally though, my immune system and certain mineral levels in my body were dangerously affected. The reason I had even sought out a doctor was because I'd fallen over the Christmas holidays. My ankle, which had been broken, was sprained. Stephanie Potts, my doctor, nurse practitioner, told me I needed to stay off my feet for a couple of weeks. She took my blood and I left her office, wondering how I was going to follow her suggestions and still work? Within a few days, she called me to let me know I needed to begin a course of medication, change my lifestyle and diet, and to remove as much stress from my life as possible as soon as possible. Not only did I need to keep my feet up, I needed to address a serious health issue immediately.

So now not only did I need to keep my feet up, I had to take time off to get better. Not knowing what to do, I went ahead and met with
the woman from the social services organization--Sue Perkins. She came to meet me near my home and asked me to tell her about my life.  What was I doing and what was my typical day or week?  I told her about my job, the long commute, my  current health issues.
When I told her, she asked me a simple question. "How much is your time and energy worth to you?" I was stunned. I started to tell her how I had to work and couldn't survive without the job. She said, "That's not what I asked. How much is your time and energy worth to you."  I had no idea what she meant. She then proceeded to ask me to take stock of how much time I spent in all the different aspects of this part time job that I was doing a 2-hour commute each way  two or three days a week. Then she said to add the time preparing (as a teacher there were hours of prep before and after each class), and then she added, how much time I spent recovering from the job.  She had me add all the hours up, and then any additional costs (gas, parking, travel expenses, meals, clothing).

When I'd done this, she said to me, "Frankly, you cannot afford that job. Your health or someone else's safety depends on you getting healthy again." When what you get for a job you do is not worth the time, energy, and resources you put into it, it's time to rethink the assignment. And when your own health is affected negatively by the work or conditions around the work, that's the bottom line or the straw that breaks the camel's back. Decision time. Looking back, it was not an easy decision, but it was the only right decision for me.
All the things I worried about walking away from that job and focusing on getting well and writing, have vanished.  Since that time I have written and published at least 7 books and countless articles and essays. My life as a writer is established, and I'm now at another crucial turning point in my career.

My writing projects require most of my time and attention. That leaves not much time for other areas I've been focused on in the recent past. I've given up all outside teaching, and realize I need more help than I can get or afford right now. The help I need is in marketing and publicity.  I have friends who have volunteered to help, and that has been a miracle to me. To get my books written, ready for publication, and then on the market, I need assistance. How that is going to happen, remains to be seen, but I now have people wanting to carry my books in their shops. Even though it's not my favorite part of being a writer, I do need to spend more time getting the books out and marketed. I'm at one of those steep precipices again...looking out on a vast, broad landscape trying to figure out how to get to where I'm going next. While today, I have no answers and not much of a plan, I am beginning to ask the questions and listen for answers and seek signs that indicate to me how to start quantifying my goals and dreams into action.

Opportunities, offers, and events on the calendar call for me to ask some pointed questions and make some decisions that will enable me to move my writing career into the next stage. This year I am finishing the second book in my mystery series, editing and publishing my fourth book of poetry, and going ahead on a new series, one I've been researching and dreaming up for the past year or so. Waiting for an order of books for a local shop, and getting ready to launch the new book with a couple of events.

It's a lazy Sunday morning when I've been anything but lazy or at ease. Instead ideas are popping up and like a pot of boiling water, things are getting ready to take off. It's a feeling I have, that stirred from within. Where it will lead, I am uncertain. But I recognize the movement, questions, and push of times in the transitions stages of my life. Writing is all about expressing and communicating, and writing about writing as I do here on Coasting Along, is one of the ways a writer, this writer, unravels the mysteries and unpacks the questions that help point me in the direction I'm traveling.

Happy New Year to all of you who are heading out on new journeys, longing for new directions, or unwinding from the last big adventure. Take time to breathe and smell the pine, moss, or cactus, whatever is near you and in bloom or growing. Take time too to look at what is growing within you, and prepare yourself to make the best of the gifts of life and freedom that we have.

By the way, my answer to Robert's question about how I saw myself down the road is actually the life I am living and have been living since that time. What we imagine possible becomes so when we put ourselves to work on making it happen.

Squeezing Into a Size Seven

Decades ago, when I was still in high school I think, I went shopping at the Lakewood Center Mall. I was having cramps and felt awful, but for some reason it never occurred to me at that time that it was probably not the best time to go shopping. What ended up happening was I let myself get talked into buying a kelly green, mohair jumper dress. Anyone who knows me that kelly green is not a color I've ever worn, except for the few times I tried to wear that ugly mohair jumper. It was perhaps the worst purchase I'd ever made. Made worse because it cost so much, and I thought it would make me feel better. Learned a lot about impulse shopping that day, but also about trying to put myself in something someone else thought was a good idea.

Have you ever bought a piece of clothing hoping you'd grow to love it or that it would fit even though it was the wrong size to begin with? Remember a time when a pair of skinny jeans or a blouse that fit you 20 years ago, requires a shoehorn to even come close to fitting into? Or for those of us who gained some weight after having a baby, we understand what it feels like to try to squeeze into a pair of pants that no longer fit our image of who we are. We've all probably had the experience of trying to fit into something that just never was right for us in the first place. Our writing careers often find us trying to emulate someone we admire or fitting into some critic's latest "10 best ways to get your work published" articles.

In reality, we each have our own gifts and callings, and we each have to find our own way of being who we are, writer or not. What works for one person, does not necessarily work for everyone. One size or style definitely does not fit all. Much of being a writer, artist, creative person is about convincing ourselves that we can do what makes us happy and fulfilled. This morning I treated myself to an hour of listening to one of my favorite writers, Anne Lamott being interviewed by her writer son, Sam Lamott (if you want to listen, click on  Sam Lamott interviews Anne Lamott). I did this after looking for an escape for my regular morning writing practice. This doesn't happen that often, but some mornings, I just have a hard time getting to work. Working for myself at home makes it much easier to 'call in sick' or get distracted than a 'real job' might afford. Nevertheless, there is a nagging, painful urge I have that always gets soothed when I actually 'do the work'.  And that's what I call writing, the work.

Writing is a real job and it is also a calling. Something we have to do because it is part of what makes us feel whole. It's how I find ways to express myself, to heal, to sort out, to synthesize, and to tell a story or two.  And most of the time, I love it. When I find myself edgy and resistant though, I need only look to see whether or not I'm doing my work in the way that works best for me or not. There is an element of fear that sits somewhere in the recesses of my mind. It's shaped like an inner critic, wet blanket, or the screaming meemies, and it can paralyze me or push me to find whatever I can to lead me away from the next page waiting to be written. Have I said, it doesn't happen often? Yes, of course, which probably means it happens more than I want to admit. Most days, I shove the voice into a corner closet and sit down and write anyway.

Today when I was getting lost in world events and politics, up pop's Anne Lamott's interview, and so I listened. After all I can count listening to a writer talk about writing as writing time, right? It was so interesting however, because her young son, Sam and Anne herself were both talking about the same things that most writers deal with at some point in our writing lives. The interview raised some questions including the following:

How do we know this is the right thing for us?

Is my devotion to my writing career worth the sacrifices and losses I'm making?

How do I cope with failure, rejection, disinterest, and criticism, especially from family and friends?

Am I doing it right?

There are probably more questions than these, but for the sake of an essay, let's start here. The first question, how do I know if this is the right thing for me. Well that is the one question I do have an answer for. I love writing. It's my favorite form of communicating, and I feel alive and fulfilled every time I write. I love for people to read what I write, but I also love the writing simply because it is so much more clear to me than what I can communicate any other way. I find pleasure, satisfaction, and joy in writing. I find connections and deeper paths that link me to greater understanding when I do research and write. I love listening to people's stories and watching people's lives. I'm fascinated by the depth and breadth of characters that are living on the same planet as I am, and the endless possibilities for story telling and narrative. So the answer for me, is yes. Absolutely writing is the right thing for me, and the only regret I have is that I didn't start on my own sooner.

Is my devotion to my writing career worth the sacrifices and losses I'm making?  Again, I would have to say yes indeed. Writing is not the first choice I've made in life that has involved making sacrifices and not following the tried and true way.  I learned early on that the road less traveled was usually where I wanted to go. Those choices often came about after realizing that 'doing what was expected or safe' did not make me happy nor did they fulfill me. I headed out in new directions, and kept searching until I found the path that fit my passions.  I learned that often people gave you advice or criticism based on their own comfort zone and passion, not yours. At different points in time when I was a young woman, conversations that changed my perspective and left doors ajar that led to my dreams, came from those who recognized me and my love for ideas, thought, and writing.

One English Literature professor, recognized me as a poet. When I first entered her poetry class, she warned us, "Don't write any modern, stream of consciousness poetry. I won't like it." I wrote my poetry anyway, and she like it. She liked it so much it inspired her to write poetry and get it published, long before I had the courage to try. She also told me I should write for a living, and encouraged me a long that way.  I didn't think I 'knew' enough, so it would be years before I'd accept myself as a poet. Dr. Claudia Buckner was a voice who stayed with me though, and still makes me realize if I just put pen to paper, I can do it.

In a short elevator ride with two of my Psychology professors at CSUDH, I was asked, "Where are you going to graduate school?" My reply, "I haven't applied anywhere." Honestly, I didn't think I had what it took, including money enough, to go to grad school. Their reply, "Well, as soon as you apply, you'll be accepted right away." Again, I put that encouragement on the back shelf and after fits and starts, years later at the age of 50 I would finally start my masters, then another one, and the a doctorate. It took a long time to build up the courage to try, but once I did, I learned, I can do it.

Another key moment was when I took a graduate course in writing, and ended up being asked if I would share the teaching responsibilities of that class. In front of a roomful of students, Dr. Charles Pomeroy asked me how I thought the class should be done, and for a split second I thought, "Okay, I can take the ball and run, or I can turn it back to him. I can be honest or I can defer." I was honest and found myself in a new job, and with a greater sense of what it took to be brave and step out into the moment. There were many times when my ideas or talents were not well received, but the moments and encouragement (better than advice) I remember were those that allowed me to step out into my own identity and define myself for myself while recognizing that others saw my capabilities.

Had I listened to the worriers, doom and gloomers, or those who were set on a different track than I , my journey would have been different.  When I went ahead in spite of fear, the outcome has been good. I have learned too that life is dynamic, and what works at one stage of life or in a particular job or relationship, does not necessarily work in all cases. Being flexible and willing to change and take risks helps me stay grounded in the present truth--the reality of the now. That does not mean I don't plan or learn from the past; it means instead that I know plans aren't necessarily going to happen as I expect or want. Getting okay with that is vital to being a writer, for me.

How do I cope with failure, rejection, disinterest, and criticism, especially from family and friends?

Not well. Who does? It's one of the hardest parts of being a writer is not having those who matter most to you take you seriously or even like what you do. I don't know which is worse. We have to do our art in spite of what others think. People's reactions to our art like anything else, is to a large extent based on what's going on in their own minds, hearts, and lives. And it has to do with their interests and tastes. Some people can't imagine you doing your art, because it doesn't fit with the image they have of you in their heads. We're not really responsible for how others judge us or our work.

What matters to me about the writing I do is the response of others who are willing to talk to me about it. It feels fabulous when someone who read my book, "couldn't put it down".  What higher compliment?  Not so flattering is a good friend who has the courage to tell you they found a flaw in the text of a book that no one else had told you about. I love that my friend David caught a mistake that I missed, and told me so I could fix it. Someone who says, "I don't like mysteries" I tell, then you probably won't like this. Sometimes they do and sometimes they don't. Books are like films. We all have different tastes. Some won't pick up a book if it looks too long, others if it's too short.

So what do we writers do? I thought I was going to be able to write cute, short, cozy mysteries like some of my favorite authors. However, once I started writing novels, I found that wasn't my style. Should I try to contort my style of writing to fit a formula that isn't mine? My answer for myself is 'No'. Writers have very different ways of laying our their works. Some plot and plan meticulously, others let the characters flow. We have to do what works for our own individual style. We also have to nurture and protect our work keeping it out of the way of harsh and cruel criticism. We need to be cautious and discriminating about who we allow to see and help us with our work. To put a piece of a budding idea out to be lambasted by someone should be avoided at all costs. This means, not every friend or family member or colleague is going to be the right person to read, edit, review, or critique your work.  Be careful who you listen to, and avoid anyone with a poison tongue or pen who tries to tear your work apart.

Find honest brokers--those who know their way around a piece of writing and who can offer constructive assistance. All others, keep away from your baby projects. I think of one good writer friend who allowed a writing workshop leader critique her manuscript and tell her to start over. That is not helpful nor is it a professional way that anyone who purports to be trying to support writers ought to behave. However, it may happen. If and when it does, grab your work, leave by the nearest exit, and go back to a trusted person who won't tear your heart out as they try to save your life. If you've been hurt, as most of us have at one point or another, take time to heal, get some distance, get some support, and keep writing. Don't let anyone to deter you.

Am I doing it right?

Better yet, am I enjoying what I'm writing? What is my body of work? Sometimes we're so intent on what we haven't yet done that we forget what we've accomplished. Whatever stage of your writing life you're in, do an inventory. Gather all the writing you've done together. Essays, research, poetry, articles, books, blogs, letters, whatever you've done. This will give you a better sense of your writings. You can do this for any type of art or other work. Until we recognize what we have accomplished, we are operating in a dark room.

What different types of writing do I like, and why don't I do more of it?  How do I measure success for myself? Again, more questions. And the last question I asked today should provoke more questions you have about your life as a writer, artist, sculptor, musician, or whatever you do that helps you express your identity. Healer, doctor, carpenter, communicator, singer, lover of life.  Give yourself a pat on the back for what you've created in your life, and notice what has given you the most joy, fulfillment, and purpose. If financial success is your primary goal, how is that working for you as a creative person?  Decide what matters most as far as your sense of success is, and measure that against the life you're living.

Then  commit yourself to the time, energy, resources, and dedication it takes to be the writer you are and wish to become. Do this with whatever matters most to you, with whatever gives you purpose, and serves those you seek to enrich and serve. Decide for yourself what criteria matters most, and align yourself with daily work that leads toward that. If you block out possibility simply because you can't imagine things working out differently for you, rethink where you are putting your faith and how you are stopping yourself from doing what gives you purpose, meaning, and fulfillment. Write on. Create. Be happy in that.