(Okay, so I'm cheating and I'm actually posting this on 12/1. Sorry I've been away. I've been busy. But good. Getting it together again. Yay for me.)

november 25

calm and clarity

Man. I knew I needed a vacation, but I didn't understand how badly, or how much better I would feel once I had one. Over the past four days I've spent more time with my husband and family than I have in months, I've eaten well, slept well.

I cooked a Thanksgiving dinner than couldn't be beat (ten points if you get the reference), watched football, witnessed the lighting of our city's Christmas tree, saw Riding in Cars with Boys. Quiet, happy, relaxing time.

And I wrote. Not a lot, but well. Strong, powerful, digging-down-deep-into-the-pit-of-your-soul writing. I've known for a long time that I would need to make writing in my paper journal a regular habit again if I was going to be able to keep my sanity over these next months. Really, I've known for years that I needed to get back into journal writing, but it hasn't happened, mainly for lack of commitment.

So I did what I've done since I was a child when I wanted to put order in my life: I made lists. Then I took it a step further and formulated a plan for getting my shit together in the form of project plan, like the ones I use for managing web development projects. I was feeling like a freak for a while, like I was over the deep-end with the obsessive planning.

Then, in one of my tried-and-true diary writing books, I found a reference to defining your life goals in measurable ways, with steps outlined to reach those goals, which is exactly what a project plan is. Many of my goals are emotional, but I figure I can measure the success of this project based on how many sleepless nights or panic attacks I have, or don't have, which is the idea.

I also tried an old writing technique that I haven't used in years. It's one I made up after reading The Book of Qualities. This is a simple but powerful book that personifies emotions. I used to either read the book until a particular "quality" struck a chord with me or I would randomly open up to one and write on that. Today, I tried the latter technique.

The quality I opened up to was Terror.

I had also just read a passage in my diary book about the synchronicity you'll find between your journal writing and life.

So I wrote about Terror, in the form of conversation between this emotion an me.

I didn't approach this persona as if it represented anything directly related to the 9/11 attacks, but rather, the terror I bring into my own life. The words that came out when Terror was "speaking" to me said that I had a lot of responsibility in bringing all this anxiety into my life. It's a little embarrassing, this idea that I've created all of this considering how much time I spend feeling sorry for myself, but I know I have in some ways, or at least I haven't done a whole lot to ward off some of the chaos.

It was incredibly revealing to find that the center of all my terror feelings right now is money. And as Terror told me, money comes and goes and it's my choice how I react to that fact. I invite her into my life with my beliefs, erroneous as they may be, about how money happens and how much control I have over it.

And connected to my feelings about money is my pride. I could probably have some stupid, mindless job tomorrow that paid enough money to fill in the gaps in our income right now. But I'm too proud. I want to do the work I believe I've earned the right to do, regardless of the fact that there just isn't that much work in that area right now.

I heard Polly, who is struggling with all of these same things right now, having a conversation with a woman we know who said her husband needed a personal assistant, and she would offer the work to her but she didn't want to "demean" her. Polly replied that any kind of work right would help her realize her dream: to start her own marketing company. And believe me, Polly has had to go through a tremendous amount of soul-searching to be able to say that.

When she put it that way I wondered what the hell I've worried about. Who cares what kind of work it is as long as, in the end, my dreams come true?

So, the next step is to define my dreams. I have lost sight of exactly what it is I want. There are some basic things: I want to travel, I want to write, I want to work on teams for dynamic, creative people. But I have to narrow it down. And I have to be flexible at the same time. And I have to attach a dollar amount to these choices, at least in the short run, because I have to make money.

And here's something else that happened to me this weekend: I think I've worked through the worst of the grief over the WTC attacks. This is a little difficult for me to say publicly because I know there are so many people out there that are only in the beginnings of the grief process. But as I've been saying to myself for the past two months, it's my job to be strong, because I can be, I have that luxury. I'm not a widow raising to babies, I'm not a mother who's buried her son, I haven't been to six memorial services for my friends.

I didn't realize that this would affect me as deeply as it did, and I thought since no one I know actually died, that I didn't have a right to all this grief. I know that I did, that my feelings were expected and justifiable. Having your personal safety and that of all of those you love threatened, perhaps permanently, isn't something you get over in a day.

Now I have to assume the position of watchful citizen, supporting my country in its right to defend itself, and keeping my government honest and honorable as it defines and builds these new relationships in the Middle East and Central Asia. Things are getting shifty out there. The Constitution is coming under threat. We're making deals and forging agreements that may have disastrous consequences in years to come. Now that we've all reaffirmed our commitment to a country built on the ideals of freedom, it's time we exercise that right to speak out and make sure it's secured for all, within our boarders as well as beyond.

Can you tell I'm back to my old self?

- november 25