Fear, Anxiety, Writing, and Life

I'm not sure that I react to fear in a healthy way.  It's usually with anger, even rage. All of my "fuck you" instincts tend to rush to the surface when I'm frightened. I'm not a "cower in the corner" kind of girl. I'm much more likely to veer toward rash action.

This makes me the LAST person you might want to throw a surprise party for, as I might accidentally punch you in the face before I register that this is supposed to be a celebration, not a home invasion. For sure, I'm going to be pissed. And not in a fun, hey-we-got-you kind of way. More like you're-an-asshole-and-I-don't-like-you-anymore. Proceed at your own risk.

But fear is a real part of life. My top three phobias - bees, bears, and commitment - don't tend to impact my day to day all that much, except in the summertime when I mow the grass, and stuff is blooming, and the pollen is everywhere, the shrubs and grass hum...

Excuse me while I shudder with my whole body.

I've learned to live with these little distractions. But the things we don't see coming, the things that no one prepares for, are what tend to drive fight or flight response. Like the sudden death of a friend or family member. Or a serious illness out of nowhere that devastates a family or changes any plans for the future that might have previously been someone's sanity life raft. I don't tend to have many long term plans in the best of circumstances, but even I feel the pressure, the fear, when bad things appear to threaten whatever future I envisioned. I tend to seize the moment. And the ice cream.

So last year, a scary, scary time, I put on 20 pounds. I could blame Ben and Jerry, but it was my saying fuck you to eating healthy (which did not seem to serve my friend all that well - cancer could care less if you were a pescetarian and did yoga) when there was pleasure to be had in the form of frozen dairy deliciousness. Happily, I have shed that, but the attitude remains. I've never been inclined to tolerate much bullshit and I'm even less likely to exercise patience with people who are loose with the truth or incapable of being genuine. I half-jokingly told my boss earlier this evening that I hoped this wasn't professionally debilitating. The fact that I would even have that conversation with my boss makes my point.

I try to live as well as I can, as real as I can, since I know that at any time, I could fall victim to brain tumors, or leukemia, or random acts of Baltimore violence, or bear attack, or whatever. I tend not to worry about small anxieties too much. I was in a car with someone not that long ago, and he made a self-deprecating remark about his appearance. He tried to make it a joke, but I could tell that this really was a sore subject. I was stunned, both because I find this man to be more than passably attractive and because it is so pointless to fret about physical characteristics we can't control. Like the shape of an ear or a nose or how feet look or whatever. In fact, I think it's the imperfections about others that are the details we grow to love. The things that are distinctly theirs separate them from the sea of humanity. Own your differences, don't let them give you ulcers. Plenty of other ways the universe can screw you up, no need to help it along.

I have found my nervousness level to be a good barometer when I'm not sure what to do. If I'm a little afraid that I can't do it - that is absolutely the direction I choose. If it's too safe, I'm bored before I start. This is true of jobs, of creative projects, and certainly of men. It's not the bad boys - it's the ones that make us feel a little uncertain that we can cope or keep up or understand.  Maybe we aren't smart enough or cool enough or talented enough - maybe it could all go horribly wrong. Job or man or project - I'm in. Kryptonite. But it's paid off with experiences I could never have planned for including time as an Imagineer (life changing opportunity to work with and know some of the most creative people in the universe), travel opportunities (sailing on a tall ship in the Caribbean), and the boldness to dare to be a novelist. It doesn't all work out. I fail big sometimes. Karaoke in Atlanta after moonshine might have been painful to hear and I can find ten ways to screw up a relationship (see phobia #3 above) but passion is not a bad approach compared to the alternative. I can't seem to be too passive about my life.   It seems an invitation for fate to snatch it away and fate will have to wrestle it out of my fingers if any nasty surprises come my way. I'm likely to punch fate in the face before I can determine if it's celebration or home invasion.

The Crazy Idea Board

I'm not a very effective outliner. I've tried, really I have, but the sticky notes and the color coded spreadsheets really only tell me where I've been. They have been moderately helpful with remembering what I called characters from chapters past, but no help whatsoever in working out where to go next.

Isn't that always the way? Aren't we all trying to figure out what to do next? I have an idea about where my characters will end up eventually, but a whole lot of nothing about how to get them there and keep my readers along the way. So, I keep a "crazy idea board." On it, are things like (Spoiler alert):

Gina's mother shows up
Mark disappears
Assistant chef has secret past
Could Gina be adopted? 
Affair with former boss - baby?
Did Marisol's young lover return?

You get the idea. I threw a bunch of items from the crazy idea board into Chapter 11 as the hook to get to Chapter 12.  When it came time to make sense of that mess, I had my work cut out for me! But, the beauty of fiction is that we don't want it to be too real, so I didn't over explain. And it's not only perfectly legitimate to hint at wild red herrings, it's expected, even necessary, so I may have gone a little crazy. I will have plenty of time to even out the cray cray once my draft is done.

The sad part is no matter how nuts I get in one chapter, the "what happens next" problem is back again when it's time to write the next one. If I throw the kitchen sink at every chapter, It will be all Dan Brown like, and not in the this author is a gazillionaire kind of way. In any case, demand is nearly always ahead of supply so I'm always looking for inspiration for the crazy idea board. My friends and coworkers are both hopeful and afraid that things that they say or do might end up in my stories. One office colleague even accused me of basing things entirely on a thinly veiled version of real people I know from work - an interesting thought since she has never read a word of my work and has no idea what it is about. It was a little fun to tell her that I write mysteries and figure out ways to kill (fictitious) people in ways that makes it hard to catch the killer. Enter awkward silence and nervous laughter...

Anywhoooo...I think the crazy idea board is a good idea for real life. It's not too difficult to get complacent, become too comfortable with the day to day and suddenly a year goes by, then two, then - holy crap! I've worked here eight years!  I've lived here nine years! I haven't seen/been to/tried/dared to (fill in the blank) in ages!

I'm not really a bucket list girl, at least not in any organized way, but I do believe that we should strive to make our short time here count - for ourselves and the ones we love. What's on my personal crazy ideas board? Here are a few things:

Speak better French (C'est tres bien!)
See the English countryside (land of the classic Bristish mystery)
Publish my own mystery novel
Write song lyrics that don't suck
Visit the Pacific Northwest/Yosemite/Grand Canyon/Alps
Visit France beyond Paris

You get the idea. This list is so much more important than the "Stuff I Did" board because it's about  tingly, scary, exciting possibilities.  Zing!  Sometimes stuff crops up that should have been on my crazy idea board only it happened before I had a chance to plan for it. That works! Make time and room for a little crazy now and then. Without it, life is bland - just time passing - and the soul stagnates. Who wants to read that story?

Lemons, Wellness, and Pie with Friends

I wrote a Facebook post last year (which I can't easily find, shouldn't they have a search function? Dammit - I might have been incredibly eloquent and now I can't find it!) in which I said that the phrase "Everything happens for a reason" or any of the religious or secular versions of this idea are all bullshit. I said that we tell ourselves this lie so that when bad things happen, we can give ourselves solace that it wasn't our fault, that everything will work out, that when God closes a door, he opens a window.  What? This thinking inevitably leads to living in the never-happened past, the "what if" world instead of dealing with the "right-now" one.

What difference does it make, really, when you are upset, or disappointed, or devastated, or tormented with grief, whether your circumstances makes sense to someone else? It seems a thin hope that you will look back one day and have some epiphany about how bad things or speed bumps forced changes that led you to new places.  Of course they did! But even good things - unexpected wonderful gifts - lead us into new frames of mind, make us see the world anew, make us smile more, treat each other with grace and kindness, because we are happy. And when we are happy, we want everyone to be happy too.  Even the assholes. Because if they spent a little more time in genuine joy, they spend a little less time irritating the rest of us. (Feel free to steal that Hallmark.) We are moving forward all the time, whether we think we are or not.

So, even though I understand this in concept, it doesn't mean that I live it like Buddha. None of us can, except maybe the Dalai Lama, but I bet even he gets a little cranky from time to time. (Another gem for the greeting card industry, you're welcome.)  I've applied for jobs I didn't get, hoped for promotions that didn't work out, submitted stories that did not get published, and the granddaddy of all disappointments, I've experienced that no-rules, alien planet, you-can't-do-anything-right thing called love. You'll learn nothing from me about that, though, so instead - I want to tell you about what I've learned from others around me who are living it and inspiring me to be better.

We don't go through anything all alone. We are not on an island of one.  This isn't a whole "We're there for you" speech, what I mean is, all the things we do, feel, react to, fight against, affect those around us.  How do you explain to kids about cancer?  About divorce?  About depression or illness?  About getting fired or laid off?  How do we talk to our families, our friends? How do we unintentionally model for those who look to us for guidance on what being grown-up or professional or compassionate is all about? Because of us, will they believe that being an adult is awful, stressful, shouty, angry, or alone? Will our colleagues believe that if you have responsibility, your personal life is over or that you can't be funny, or human, or a mentor to others who might one day want your job? Or will they see us dealing with the tough stuff imperfectly, working through it, asking for help when we need it, and moving on? There are people in my life doing this right now, some of them with more than one terrible thing at the same time.  How much are they teaching us all about resilience, flexibility, resourcefulness, and wellness?

For my friends with kids/grandkids, I am in awe of your control, your generosity, your willingness to be human, and to teach your young ones that although life throws curve balls, they always have the ability to grow and learn, and to form and maintain healthy relationships and friendships that will support them for a lifetime.

My sister and I were raised by a single mother, not perfect by any means, but I remember her frustration when she felt overwhelmed turning into "let's give this a try."  She didn't wait to be saved, she rolled her sleeves up and got started even if the outcome was uncertain. She was also a fan of "Let's see where this road goes." Not too shabby as role models go, I think.

And I work with some exceptional people who are much better than I at handling the stress, the ridiculous, the absurd, the bullies, and the unfair.  Some have dealt with unimaginable hardship including the loss of a child, spouse or parent, heartbreaking diagnoses, and other challenges that might break those less strong. They move forward with grace.  I learn from them everyday. I am a better person for the example they set.

I spent a good chunk of time last week setting up a "Celebration of Life" honoring a close friend I lost last year. And I ventured out and met new people on Friday. The new don't replace the old, but each day, we are given the opportunity to make connections that might change our lives. My best friends were once strangers to me. Don't take that too lightly. You might be the inspired or the one inspiring or both.

So the point of this rambling - it's not enough to try and understand life and the "whys" of it all. I can only live it the best I can, as you can, for yourself and the ones around you. Be the one who doesn't let bitterness poison chances for happiness. Allow yourself to love again, even if it won't follow any script. Don't hide or fear or stay stuck, especially if you have small ones who look to you for how to live this crazy, confusing life. Try. Ask for help. Both are critical lessons. Take the lemons and find a way to use them. I'm more of an iced tea girl than lemonade, but find a way to use what you have MacGyver-style and move forward.   It's healthier for you and everyone around you. Recognize that you don't know it all - none of us do - so there's going to be some trial and error involved. Be okay with saying you're sorry when you mess up. Don't let fear of failure keep you from trying to make it work. Take care of the people in your life. Make the time for them. It's good for you, too. And bring pie. Everyone loves pie.

So my thanks to all of you who have helped to keep me in the present and moving forward. You inspire me everyday. I hope one day to return the favor.  :)