Three a Day

I picked up a copy of Julia Cameron's memoir, Floor Sample the other day at the library on 79th Street. I was a little early for my 7:30PM yoga class (between 76 & 75) and decided to wander through, going directly to the biography/ memoir shelves.

While not the most interesting book I've ever read, nor the most poignant & intriguing writer- I've enjoyed the book thus far. She writes about writing- that's why I picked up the book in the first place. She writes about her life, yes, but more so, her life as a writer of films and songs and magazine articles. Cameron is well known for her book The Artist's Way- which is "a course in discovering and recovering your creative self."

Now, Cameron recognizes a higher power, even calls him God... and while I'm not sure of her own convictions, (perhaps this is due to my little knowledge of her study & her memoir IS the first work she's written that I've read) I do know what I can walk away knowing and gaining from her experience and wisdom. Her religious and spiritual references thus far have been quite vague and I have no problem whatsoever applying them to what I know as Truth.

She determines, pretty early on- in her early 30's or so- to write 3 pages a day. Period. She calls them her Morning Pages. I like that. I like that is becomes another part of her daily routine. Another thing that must be done each day. For her some days are easy - and the words just seem to come- like she's eavesdropping on her characters and their lives unfold perfectly before her. Other days, she says, are dreadful and she sits. Staring at the keyboard she would wait, sometimes for hours.

So, I think I'll start my own three pages a day. I mean, at least Monday - Friday. But, it's just like so many other area in my life, and I get to a point and think, "Why the hell am I doing this?" "Why does this matter at all?" "Does anyone even care...do I even care?" and when I feel like I can not adequately answer these questions, I just sort of dwindle into doing some mediocre, surface level, novice nonsense that does not make me happy or satisfied.

That seems to be in the air these days. Wondering why. Life is too short to go through the motions and be less than satisfied with the daily goings and comings- as far as things that in within my control are concerned.

Chris and I have been struggling with this alot in our marriage, jobs, the city we live in and where we want to be next year- much less five years from now. Why do we live here, where rents are high, there is no privacy or space or freedom, and rest is so hard to find? Why do we want to wait to have children (if we do have children)? Why do we go to church every week and sing in the Praise Team and lead on the Worship Arts Team? Why do I try to love well, when I wonder if these people really even want love?

Why do I attend a Bible Study? Yoga? Run in the Park? Why do I want so much to feel validated? Appreciated? Connected? And, even now I don't know what would have to happen for me to feel any of those things. Even after getting two pieces published in less than one year in Chicken Soup for the Soul - a well known and pretty decent paying publication- I do not feel validated as a writer. And you know why? Because on most days, I am not writing. I am not editing. I am not submitting or doing what I know it takes. And I don't know why really, other than fear.

Today I watched jugglers in Bryant Park. They are there every single day. Different people, sometimes 6 sometimes 12, but jugglers nonetheless. Some in suites, some in jeans, some on there lunch hour. And today I wondered, why do they juggle? Why do they want to juggle? Why did they want learn to juggle these obscured, over sized bowling pins and how long did that take? ---
I realized today, as I've been reluctant to admit to myself over the past year or so, that I am fine. I do not seek out challenges any more. I do not really want to learn a new skill, or grow. I am just coasting along- observing- seeing- and participating from time to time. But, I think it's the fear in me, the perfectionist in me that doesn't want to mess up and hates making mistakes worse than anything else in the entire word, which keeps me paralyzed. Fear keeps me from writing my Morning Pages because if I never expect anything from myself and never set achievable goals for myself I can never let myself down.