Category: Current Events (page 16 of 91)

From the Vault: Lies We Tell Ourselves

Since writing this post three years ago or so, I’ve discovered that the ‘little voice’ I refer to below comes from what I’ve come to call the ‘badbrain’. I will go into more detail later, perhaps in another place, but suffice it to say that, no matter what its motivation, the badbrain is a decidedly not-me portion of my thought process that I am learning to interpret, internalize, combat, and ignore. Hopefully this post will help someone with a similar affliction deal with their own ‘little voice’!

Courtesy allthingshealing.com

I’ve been trying to puzzle out where, exactly, the ‘little voice’ comes from. You know the one I mean. When we work, when we strain ourselves, when we step outside our comfort zones or make time for something significant, that’s when you hear it. It isn’t intrusive and it isn’t even all that whiny, but it’s always trying to discourage us.

The discouragement isn’t always malicious. At times, it can sound downright helpful. It will remind us of upcoming appointments that will keep us from reaching our projected end point. It will point out how much this set of joints is aching or how deep the burning sensation in our chest is going. It brings up mental images and passages from other works that play in the same fields we do and are already successful where we are still struggling. In the end, though, the message boils down to putting what we’re doing aside, stopping before we hurt ourselves… quitting.

It is, of course, a pack of lies.

Yes, there are only so many hours in the day. Yes, there are limits to what our bodies can do. But those limits only remain as long as they are not pushed. The hours in our day are not fixed; we can move things around to carve out the time we need to do what we want. It really is a case of mind over matter, of responding to the ‘little voice’ saying “Thanks, but no thanks, I got this.”

I’m still not entirely sure why we lie to ourselves in this way. We try to talk ourselves into not giving our all, not striving for our goals. We succeed in not straining ourselves, and in doing so, we set ourselves up for failure. Why any rational, sane human being would willingly do this is a mystery to me.

The best I can come up with (being a total amateur at this sort of thing) is that it’s a defense mechanism. The body and our perception of time and exterior influences generate reactions, and at times these reactions happen more quickly than our minds can fully process them. Think about it; I’m sure many a time you’ve looked back on yesterday and said, “Oh, I actually would have had time to do X if I had held off on doing Y.” We opt for the comfort and ease rather than delaying our satisfaction in order to move closer towards achieving a goal.

It’s the same sort of reaction that tries to get us to back off from physical exertion. If you’re ‘feeling the burn’ and trying to push yourself towards a goal – five more minutes, five more pounds, reaching the end of the block at a jogging pace rather than a walking one – your body will try and tell you that it’s more trouble than it’s worth. That it’s time to ratchet back a bit. Take a break. Go easier on yourself.

Since it’s inside your head, it isn’t impolite to tell that voice to fuck directly off.

Unless you’re in real danger of hurting yourself, unless you’re taking time away from truly important things like family or you’re in jeopardy if missing a deadline that could cost you a lucrative job, kick that little voice’s ass. Test your limits, to see if you can break them. Carve out the time you need, in bloody chunks if you have to. The envelope is there to be pushed – push the hell out of it.

It’s easier said than done, I know. But when you’re in the moment, when you’re on the cusp of achieving something or reaching a goal, and you start to feel that little voice tickling your mental ear, that’s when you engage your mind and simply say, “No. I will not lie to myself. I will get this done. I can rest after it’s over.”

And no matter what the cost is, you’ll feel better in the long run.

When Will Words Come?

Courtesy floating robes
Courtesy Floating Robes

Writers have to write. Just the way that runners have to run, or smokers have to smoke, or brokers have to… broke? Break? Something involving breaking. Anyway, writers are compulsory creatures and writing is a compulsion. It’s felt under the skin. It’s an itch in the fingers, a burning behind the eyes. The fires of the creative mind of the writer are stoked continuously, and without release, the pressure builds to a fever pitch, and the next thing you know the writer is taking chunks of the desk with their teeth because they need to write, dammit!

But writers are also human beings. At least, they are until we perfect the AI that can write novels as well as our current novelists. That means they have things like hunger and depression and anger and distractions and fear and the Internet and bills and porn. A million tiny things can add up very quickly to an obstacle that the writer struggles to surmount, a wall between them and the words. Other than smashing that motherfucker down, what is the writer to do? What do you do when the words don’t come?

The advice I am about to give is, admittedly, advice I need to take myself. And it is influenced heavily by other writers. I am going to delineate it here anyway, because it is my hope that in doing so, my own walls come tumbling down and the words start flowing again. It’s getting backed up pretty bad in here. Kind of starting to stink.

Forget About Yesterday

A big part of what can get in the writer’s way is the writer themselves. Mostly, in the form of looking back over the past day or week and seeing all the words that didn’t get written. Production time is lost, due to research of legitimate related topics or ‘research’ on the optimum build for a Diablo III character or the exact taste of a new kind of beer. Some writers don’t write for a living and need to hold down dayjobs, whose work and commute and responsibilities suck time and energy away from writing the way a vacuum removes dust from lush carpeting. The dayjob also removes things like eviction notices and angry phone calls, but there’s always some good with the bad.

Regardless of circumstances, the best thing to do is to simply forget about the past.

Yes, mistakes have been made. Blunders happened. Forget about them. Leave the past in the past. You only have three temporal perspectives to consider, and I would argue that the past matters the least. Sure, it’s regretable that certain things didn’t happen certain ways. That was yesterday. Today is happening now, and there is always tomorrow.

Or is there?

Tomorrow’s An Illusion

Tomorrow isn’t here yet. You’re not in it. You won’t be for hours. It is, quite simply, not real.

It is going to be real, yes. And you can plan for what might happen or what is going to happen. Sure, no plan remains fully intact once contact is made with the enemy, and the writer’s enemies are many and varied, as mentioned above. But the fact of the matter is, time spent planning for tomorrow is time you could be spending writing today.

So, forget about the past, and fuck waiting for tomorrow. What’s that leave you?

Come on. Take a guess.

Write Today. Write Now.

If you remove the other two temporal perspectives, you’re left with the present moment. It is really the only moment over which you have direct control. Previous moments are immutable, and moments to come are illusory. NOW is the time you inhabit, NOW is the time in which you can wrest destiny away from forces outside of yourself, and NOW is the time to write.

Again, this is advice I need to take myself, and I need to keep taking it every day. I can plan for ways to make it easier for me to do so: get up earlier, get more sleep, stress less about the job, increase energy with changes in diet and exercise, and so on. But right now, in this moment, the choice is really a binary one: write, or don’t write?

It really is as simple as choosing “write” more often than not.

Because that’s how stories get told.

That’s how dreams come true.

That’s how writers change the world.

Interference

There are a lot of things I want to say. Work regarding my words is, I feel, egregiously being left undone. Forward progress I want to be making in my actual, passionate career simply is not happening.

I am physically capable, and mentally as well, but circumstances are such that I simply cannot say or do those things. Time, energy, and opportunity continue to be out of joint. And it’s kind of pissing me off.

My patience for excuses is pretty much expended. The queasy feeling in my guts is more perturbation than concern. I cannot and will not accept this state of being as the status quo. These are conditions under which I refuse to live as a matter of course.

When you get interference in your plumbing or electricity or entertainment vectors, you call for a repair person.

When you get interference in your life, it’s a bit more complicated. But the need is no less urgent.

So where’s my metaphorical pipe wrench? I’ve got some fixing to do.

Control+S

ON FIRE.

Folks, it is very, very important to save your work.

After a harrowing and edgy day of front-end coding work, I came home and wrote. I did some other things, first: watched the rest of a movie I’d started the other night, checked in with friends, got some food. But I finally returned to what I want to be doing, what brings me the most personal joy when I accomplish it, and what people have told me is perhaps my greatest skill: I started telling stories again. Eventually, I got tired, and decided sleep was what I needed, leaving the computer on but turning off the monitors.

I forgot to hit Control+S on Notepad++ to save my work.

Windows, in its infinite wisdom, decided to automatically restart itself to install yet another critical update. I’ve been doing that manually every day for weeks, now. I guess that’s part and parcel of running Windows 7 on Balthazar. Anyway, I woke up to find the damned thing prompting me for my login information, and my heart sank into my stomach.

Now, all told, it wasn’t a lot of information. 100 words, tops. But it was the principle, the idea. I haven’t done a Flash Fiction challenge in weeks. It’s been a struggle to have the energy and focus upon returning home to sit down and really make words happen. Rising to the challenges presented by the dayjob is taking a great deal out of me, and it is not in my nature to hold a great deal back for myself. Not when expectations are so high.

I’ll see if I can manage it again tonight. And hopefully, this time, I’ll either write the whole thing out, or remember to save my damn work.

Energy Ebb

Change, even when it is welcomed, can be difficult. I’m not just talking about daylight savings time, and losing an hour of potential sleep to an antiquated means of preserving candle wax or lamp oil. I’m referring to the fact that on top of the new dayjob, and all of its responsibilities and pressures, I have other aspects of my life that demand my attention and engagement.

Once I get myself home and I have the time to catch my breath, I find myself with very little energy to take time for myself, be it in writing or gaming or anything of that nature. Lately, I have simply felt too drained to invest much time or attention in anything solely for my benefit or advancement. Even writing out this particular blog post feels like a luxury; I should already be making the coffee I’ll need to fuel my coding endeavors for the day downtown.

Hopefully this is a temporary state of affairs and I’ll strike a more palatable work/responsibility/life balance soon. Until then, I’ll do what I have to do. Expectations are damned high, but I’ve been enough of a disappointment already in my life, and I’m doing my utmost to not be one anymore.

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