FEAR

Fear sucks.

Do I really want to do this?

Okay, I'll try to say more than that. Because fear is this thing that we all feel at times. Some people are all about confronting their fears. I know times when I've confronted a fear, face to face, and the fear ceased. And sometimes I've confronted a fear face to face and it has been awful and the face-off created new fears to arise and caused a lot of havoc in my life. So is it helpful to confront your fears, or is it dangerous and prone to backfire? I don't know. But some people are all about confronting their fears.

And some people are all about avoiding the situations and things that cause them fear. I've dealt with fears this way lots of times. Like I wanted to move in with a boyfriend once. And I'd asked him before and he said he wasn't ready yet. So I didn't ask him again. I was afraid of being rejected so I just avoided that topic for years and got very comfortable living alone until he was ready, I guess, and he needed a roommate. And then I moved in, but we never talked about how best to do it because I was afraid he'd say no and reject my ideas again. So I never brought up the fact that I didn't necessarily want to move into that place with him, but would have preferred to find a brand new place. And I rarely brought up the topic of rearranging furniture, or changing stuff on the bedroom wall, or getting rid of some of our stuff because when I tried to do this initially, I felt my suggestions were rejected because he didn't have time or he liked having all these matching but space consuming side tables and sofa set. So I stopped asking because I was afraid of another rejection-sounding answer. But sometimes, avoiding a situation that cause you fear, like driving blindfolded, is really smart. And safe. And perhaps can maintain the peace of a relationship instead of shaking things up over a minor disagreement that really doesn't have anything to do with love or commitment. You just ignore the fact that he leaves his tea bags on the kitchen counter or toss them in the compost bucket instead of letting that annoyance surface and having a big fight over a pet peeve, resulting in reinforced fear of bringing up annoyances--and those other annoyances might not be such small potatoes. So avoiding being afraid can be easy and it sure can feel like the safest option, or it can be a poisonous plant that eating a little of isn't so bad, but if you eat a lot, you're going to have to go to the hospital and get your stomach pumped.

Then some people ignore a fear. Pretend it isn't there, even though it is and your stomach is all queasy. Like I am afraid of falling down skiing or hiking or wake boarding. But I still do these things, even though I'm uncomfortable when the trail is steep and dry and I'm going downhill and my hiking boots are slipping with every step. Please, please, please DON'T BIFF IT--but hey, I'm still doing it. Maybe I'll biff it and get cut up. Or break a bone. And then maybe I will acknowledge that fear more and be reluctant to go hiking on steep dusty trails. If I don't ignore it, would I still go hiking? Or would I talk about the fear constantly while doing it and say out loud all the time "Please, please, please DON'T BIFF IT"? Ignorance is bliss, but if you aren't truly ignorant, but playing make believe, and the make believe sweet unicorn turns out to be a vampire unicorn... Eek.

And then some people just let fear take over and paralyze them. Actually, if confronting fear, avoiding fear-causing situations, or ignoring the existence of your fear backfires, well, it doesn't take much for paralysis to swoop in and stiffen your limbs with fear. I guess paralyzing fear is why I am writing about fear today. Because it SUCKS. And even when you feel paralyzed by fear, fearsome stuff still happens. Then not only are you paralyzed by fear but you are surrounded by the fearsome stuff that has mounded up all around you. You are now also frozen and surrounded by fears and it feels impossible to move. And if you move, you have to go through the scariest stuff possible and there could be more fearful stuff beyond the piles--you just can't know. Which causes MORE fear.

So I am having problems with fear. I always have had issues with fear. It doesn't feel good, so not having issues with fear seems kind of unrealistic to me. But I suppose I could have fewer issues with fear if I could learn to care less. I care a lot. About EVERYTHING. Care Bears--they know nothing about caring. And I care so much about how to do this or how to talk to y, that I don't do anything because the fear of doing it wrong paralyzes me and--whether my caring is about how best to communicate with a family member going through a rough time or about cleaning out my fridge and separating the compost stuff from the recyclable stuff from the garbage and doing the dishes so I can cook dinner--I end up doing almost nothing. I don't clean the fridge. I don't call. I obsess about my concern and how I could screw it up and then it is time to eat and I haven't called that family member or dealt with the fridge at all and I'm eating blueberries and tortilla chips for dinner because they're not stale or bad yet and they require no preparation--though I should technically wash those blueberries. I can be paralyzed in fear and concern and still eat those things. Yes, this is ridiculous and wasteful and self absorbed and stupid to the max.

So ever since I moved out of my place with Tomato and into my new old apartment, I've had scores of days where I'm just wasting my time away debating whether I should do this or that and it is because I am afraid. I am afraid I will organize my files wrong so I still haven't finished unpacking my files and desk stuff. I moved in early MAY. I haven't gone through receipts and updated my expenses and then applied that data to my "budget" that I haven't created yet because I'm collecting spending and earning data still because the project totally inspires fear in my heart because it's mounded up so high. When I was in Costa Rica, I didn't feel paralyzing fear. I did things. I dealt with the fear one way or another and if it backfired, I dealt with that. When I am out and about, I don't feel paralyzed by every decision. When I was on vacation with my family, I felt fear, but I wasn't paralyzed and not doing things. I did things. Being back here in this apartment now, after living somewhere else with someone else and having fears about us or the place or our time or how I said x or y pop up in my face all the time and having to deal with them whether they went away or not, being back here has had a somewhat paralyzing effect on me. I am afraid. I fear starting anything here or finishing anything in this space. And this doesn't bode well for my immediate future. And that doesn't bode well for my future further along. So I have to get out of the fear or get out of this apartment. This apartment used to be my sanctuary! What happened?

When I ask myself this--why am I so paralyzed with petty fears and wasting my time and sleeping hours away in a place where I used to be so industrious?--it doesn't take long for me to figure it out. I am afraid to embrace this place as my own again because that would be fully acknowledging that I live in a place on my own again and that I can't go back to that apartment I didn't want to move into necessarily in the first place because the person I wanted to move in with who wasn't ready when I first asked isn't living there anymore and I only moved in there because I wanted to live with him. And I can't go live with him because he and I don't share our lives anymore, and I hear his place is even smaller than my old new place anyway--I don't fit there, just like he didn't fit here. I am afraid to embrace this place as my own again because that would be fully accepting that I am not in a relationship where I can lean over and kiss my partner on the cheek good night anymore, fully accepting that I don't have a relationship with him at all these days, fully accepting that I am single, fully accepting that I am alone. Fully accepting that I can not entertain the idea that we can brush this under the rug and get back together for a second because it isn't going to happen, even if I don't know that 100%, another idea I can't entertain for a second because if I entertain these ideas, I will stay frozen in this apartment, I will never fully accept that I am single, that I am alone, and that I can live my life however I want to right now and that this fact alone has the potential to be exciting, productive, beautiful, and fulfilling, even if it IS going to be scary often. But being with someone was scary too. I can't escape fear. But I can avoid fearful situations if I want, or not. And I can ignore the feeling if I want, or not. And I can confront it face to face if I want, or not. But I can't let it paralyze me anymore in the place that I refer to home, even though I don't feel at home here like I did before, at least I don't yet.

Fear sucks. But it isn't going anywhere, and if I want to go anywhere or do anything in this place, I have to deal with it one way or another, and then I have to move on. Scary, but maybe it can be scary and fun at the same time. Like this...

And now, a new feature!

So, I am trying to write on my book, consistently, five days a week UNTIL I have finished that elusive first full draft. To give evidence of my productivity, I am going to start posting a snippet of text from each day's writing! Or maybe I will instead post 5 snippets from those 5 days in one blog every week, because I am a lazy blogger.

These snippets may make no sense to you, as they're somewhat out of context. You should not expect context, my dear readers, as the purpose isn't to sell you on the book, but enable you to testify that: yes, Jessica did write something for her book today. If you really want context, you can comment, or e-mail, or at least read my dusty synopsis thus far, which you can link to on the left of this blog! Thus, without further adieu, I introduce to you my new feature:

5 Instances Over 5 Days When I Did NOT Procrastinate!

Wednesday, September 26:
Of course, my sister and I didn’t have to wait for a sleepover invitation to experience a Sacrament meeting for ourselves. We had the Grandpa Myers hook-up.

Thursday, September 27:
“I’m not kidding, Dad,” I had said to my father over dinner that night, “when those kids found out that I’m 9 years old and haven’t been baptized, they all looked at me like I was the Thing.”
“The Thing—he’s the big rock guy, right?” he asked, passing a bowl of steamed broccoli to me.
“Yeah, he’s in the Fantastic 4. Do I have to have broccoli?” I scowled at the green stalks.
“I didn’t cook it to put it back in the fridge,” Dad said.
“So did you cook it to make me puke instead?”

Friday, September 28:
I remember that I made a joke of it, warned Mom not to take the name of our Savior Jesus Christ in vain or she couldn’t join me in the Celestial Kingdom, or some dumb bit of sarcasm like that. Mom had really busted up at my Saint act, and I think Dad was laughing too. But Amber didn’t crack a smile. She must have been in fourth grade already. She stared down at the half-eaten barbecued chicken breast on her plate. Clasped in her right hand, her fork hovered three inches above the plate, a chunk of meat dangling from its prongs.

Monday, October 1:
Almost a year before her suicide, something had already twisted in her soul, and my parents and I had written it off as a bruised ego. It sickened me to recognize how we had chosen to be blind to Amber’s warning signals back then. We’d thought it was safer to adopt a “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy than to pursue the truth, but we were dead wrong.

Tuesday, October 2:
“We aren’t babies!” Jules hollered.
“Or monkeys.” Georgie frowned at me in disapproval.
“Sorry.” I rolled my eyes. “Besides, don’t they have pretty good snacks during Sunday School?”
“We get Capri Sun in Nursery,” Jules boasted. “And animal crackers.”
Georgie smiled up at me. “I like to eat de hippos.”

And thus includes the first edition of 5 instances over 5 days when I did NOT procrastinate!

Summer's end....

I've been on the road a lot this summer. The warm weather took me to New York for a week in late May-early June, Pullman, WA-Grangeville, ID for a week in early July, Lake Coeur d'Alene, ID-Priest Lake, ID for two weeks in August, and, most recently, the Tri-Cities, WA for the annual Tumbleweed Music Festival.

Priest Lake is BEAUTIFUL

As Fall approaches, we're traveling to Illinois/Michigan for a week in mid-September, and have tentative camping plans for later in the month. In addition to these travels, we also have hosted many visitors, and managed to squeeze in a big hike last weekend in the Cascades.

Check out all the huckleberries we picked!

My summer also has been full of vegetables. I'm reading Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver currently and my awareness of the repercussions of the global food market (already fairly informed) has been heightened. This coincides with a summer wherein I've grown and consumed more local produce than ever before. For the past few years, my friend Mary and I share a vegetable box from a Community Sponsored Agriculture(CSA) program with Helsing Junction Farm of Rochester, WA, about 100 miles south of Seattle. If you are unfamiliar with CSAs, they work kind of like corporate stock or bonds--you buy a share of the farm, provide the funds to enable them to plant the seeds. In return, you receive boxes of bounty for 4 months. If the climate is fertile that year, the vegetable return may be greater than expected; however, if there's excess rain or too much sun, the yield may be lesser than desired. It's a risky investment in some ways, but it pales in comparison to the risk that the farmer takes. By extending the fruits of one's labor to the community, the farmer doesn't have to stand completely alone to shoulder the fiscal brunt of a tomato blight or drought.

In addition to bringing home a box of produce every other week this year, Mary challenged me to take my love of local produce to a new level by growing our own. Mary owns a rental property with a big plot of fertile dirt in the back. This May, Wes, Mary and I turned over the dirt, yanked weeds, and ultimately planted a nice-sized garden for ourselves. We planted tons of tomatoes, potatoes, cabbage, snap peas, green beans, squash, tomatillos, peppers, carrots, arugula, onions, basil, and cilantro. The beans were the big disappointment--hardly any popped up and we had to replant them. Likewise, I think the peas didn't yield as much as I hoped. It wasn't the hottest summer in Seattle, with the big rains in July--so the squash also has been less than prolific and the tomatoes slower to ripen. But the tomatoes sure are ripening up now! I've been trying to find use for all these great veggies--cooking lots, gifting to friends, and speculating about canning and pickling options.

Yes, I grew these tomatoes.

The downside of all these fun adventures=my writing productivity has suffered. And that knowledge really bums me out and makes these adventures and experiences less awesome in my mind. I NEED to finish this book. I NEED to move into a new stage with my writing. I NEED to see what lies beyond this story--what other stories am I sitting on? I do have ideas about next projects, but until I finish this project, I'm not allowing myself to mull them over much. Must finish book. Next time you see me, bother me about finishing my book. I may glare at you and groan, but I need as many kicks in the ass as possible.

And now, I am off to finish cleaning up my office in hopes of writing there again! Happy end of summer!

where did that damn sun go?

Okay, so when summertime hits the Pacific NW, it is often difficult to get anything done. The sun lures me outside with a book to the hammock; I want to garden excessively; it just feels too nice in the world to look at my lap top's screen for too long. Especially when you are writing a book about child suicide in Mormon Utah. BUT, because this is the Pacific NW we are talking about, there are these weeks when the sun goes away, the clouds come, the sky performs that dang precipitation act, and it gives us encores for five days. With the yucky weather, one might think I've been eagerly holed up with my computer and plot twists. Alas, no.

This might be an exaggeration, but I believe I am actually less inclined to write on crummy summer days than nice summer days. Tuesday and yesterday aside (because yesterday was a BEAUTIFUL summer day), I have spent the last week fuming about the BLAH weather. Frankly, it wasn't just BLAH Friday and Saturday, it was muggy, downpour YUCK. Where do the weather gods think we are, the Northeast? If not for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows for all-consuming company, I really would have been a poor state over the weekend.

I've tried to be productive, but it's so hard to get up when it's gray and muggy out. There's no sunshine to propel me out of the house to the library for a few hours of work. The hammock would be a damp place to set up camp with the laptop to write. And I just feel too crabby to have any constructive thoughts at all. So I actually made some headway on a project the last few days, a Amazon.com project, but writing nonetheless. Today is another gray, blah day. Will I rise above it? Think extremely productive thoughts for me and if you see the sun, will you tell it to get on back to Seattle ASAP?

For a tiny bit of sunshine in your day, here is a picture I took with my new Canon Power Shot yesterday during a short break from writing from a blanket in the front yard. It's of my neighbor cat, Muffin, who can be quite distracting in her own cute way.

I am a bad blogger.

Truly.
Perhaps you wonder what I've been up to since my last post almost 2 months ago....
Here is the brief summary, in photos:

Amazon.
Gordon Ramsay cookware anyone?



Met my first nephew, Oliver at his home in NY.

Spent a week with W, J, & T at the Priest Lake cabin.

W's family tradition:


And that's about it. My final 826 Seattle field trip of the school year is this Wednesday. I'm writing about mattresses and gardening and receiving visitors. I hope to write more on the blog, but I especially want to write more on the book as the summer commences. Think productive thoughts!

p.s. I have updated my synopsis. If you are interested, the link is in the sidebar....

Distractions du jour

Creating avatars of self

Knitting hats for friends' new babies!
(Oliver models the skull cap)

Oohing and awing over my spring flowers
(I planted the tulips me-self!)

Trying to diagnose this rhodie ailment




Baseball! Baseball! Baseball!
(Felix KO's 12 on opening day!)




Very secular Easter festivities
(from l. to r.: angry egg and femme egg, bunnyectomy 2007, spiral and nipple eggs)

Taking pictures of my nun in bloom

And this...

Bright things and some less so...

The light today is not as gray as I'd anticipated, rather the sun breaks through the clouds and I feel something akin to cheerful, even though I've stowed plenty of less harmonious feelings just below my skin. I spent forty minutes digging out unwanted shoots of holly in back while waiting to change over the laundry. My hope is to plant some tulips and other spring-flowering bulbs there in a month or so, after they've chilled appropriately.

This is what I call a transition day. I polished off two weeks of Amazon work last night and sent off the invoice today. Now I'm trying to get myself re-acclimated, into a more creative frame of mind, so that I can pursue novel work in the right head space. That's probably not going to happen today though, as here it is, already 3:30 on a Friday afternoon. WW is working tomorrow though, so perhaps I can make some creative writing use of my Saturday morning/afternoon, if the fall pleasantness doesn't lure me outdoors.

The nice thing about transition days is that they allow me to attend to the little things that I've put off. Thus, I made the bed fresh and washed the clothes. I practiced piano for an hour, then weeded and did a crossword puzzle. Next I'll do the stack of dishes. I can't wait to get rid of those. And before we go to friends' for dinner, I'll try to squeeze a bike ride or a run to feel something akin to fit.
Tomorrow, the dishes won't be bugging me. That plot of earth is cleared up, the clothing is washed and, with a little luck, folded and put away. Maybe I'll feel the temptation to clean the bathroom or mop the kitchen, but maybe I can wait until Sunday for that too. Tomorrow, I'll dig in again with Sam and the Myers family, with Sam's friends Charlotte and Osbaldo, with the mystery of Amber's suicide, and junior high in the fictional Utah town of Mica Heights, or is it Hills? You see?!!

November is Nanowrimo--National Novel Writing Month. The idea behind Nanowrimo is pretty much what it says: write a novel in a month. The official website allows folks to register for regular posting, reading, and support. If Nanowrimo didn't require you to start a novel from scratch, I would LOVE to use this network. If only to post my daily word count and track my progress in a supportive network! It's all about having someone to hold me accountable for my productivity--even if that person is a complete stranger. It's that notion that someone might look to see how my progress is coming along on a regular basis.

But, since I need to finish my novel in progress before starting anything new, I think I shall post my weekly word counts here instead through November. I'll break it down day by day, for the perspective. NO one reads this thing, as far as I can tell; but it is a public blog, and it does link off of a friend's blog who many people I know and love do read, and which i often comment on. So perhaps someone will see that picture of driftwood by my name and drift over, stepping up to be that person who, unbeknowest to me, holds me accountable for my words....