Some Thoughts About my Book: A Possible Starting Point

A reoccuring theme in my life is "I could have died, but I didn't". I have spent too much of my life in fear of the beginning of that statement, and have not given nearly as much weight to the reality of the second half.

Video Diary 12.28.08: Chunks of Time

Two days that were really five.

Video Diary 12.26.08

Adjusting and Christmas Presents

Well it has been over a week now since I returned home from the hospital. My first few days were terrifying… I was full of anxiety, constantly on edge. It was just too different from the environment in which I had spent the last two months. Not that I enjoyed being in the hospital – I definitely wanted to come home. But the only way I can explain it is that it was just too quiet here. I was used to a buzzing of nurses and other staff working outside of my door 24 hours a day. I became very independent my last few weeks, so I didn’t have a nurse in my room often, but still I could hear people coming and going, x-ray technicians entering and exiting at all hours of the night, doctors and other staff members making their rounds, etc.
I also realized after a couple of days that I had gone from taking two types of medication for anxiety several times a day plus a sleeping pill at night to virtually no chemical assistance. I was just sent home with all my new equipment and quiet rooms and dark nights. No wonder I was freaking out for a while there. So now I have narrowed it down to taking a little medication in the morning to help me start my day and a little at night to help me sleep – a lot less than what I was taking before but at least I’m not trying to go cold turkey chemically. That was messing with my body for sure!
My writing pursuit was put on hold during this adjustment period, but I decided it best to at least study if I’m not writing, so I’m reading my Bible every day. That is something I was worried I would stop doing once I returned to “normal life” but I am happy that I am starting my day with God’s word.
But the good news is that writing is going to be much easier now with this awesome gift from my husband! He bought me the most beautiful laptop for Christmas. I cried. I can’t believe what an amazing laptop this is, and it’s hard to believe I deserve this gift. But I know it’s going to help me in so many ways. My writing… my photography… it’s going to be great. My husband new exactly what to get me… I love him so much.
Well, I’m going to go for now. But there will be more to come. Stay tuned.

Popcorn with Deborah

Thinking about life and popping some popcorn one evening, I looked down at my roommate’s youngest daughter, Deborah. She was one or two and not so interested in my concerns but much more in the smell coming from our microwave. I filled up a big bowl and we plopped down on the kitchen floor, leaning our backs against the fridge. While we munched away I confessed to her my deepest concern – that I will die and no one will remember my life. I pondered out loud about my obsessions with blogging and photography and various ways of “evidence building”, not trusting that anyone else was noticing all the little things that I love about people, about God and mostly about myself.
Sure, there would be a funeral. People would cry and say nice things about me. But does anyone know that when no one is around, I sing all the time? Do they know my favorite songs to sing are “What’ll I do?” and “Desperado?” Do they know why?
I spend hours in photo shoots capturing the best features of my friends’ faces and bodies, but does anyone own a single beautiful picture of me? At least one taken in the last 4 years? How will I even make a slideshow for my own funeral if no one ever takes any pictures of me? I started out such a cute and interesting person – everything well documented. When did I start feeling so forgettable that I would have to tell people what to remember about me? And when did I become so selfish to think that my life matters so much that people throughout time should remember me at all.
I’m told it’s a normal feeling. But that’s the last thing I want to think of myself as being.

Spare Time

I don’t want to go back to work at UCP. I tell my co-workers how much I miss them, which I do, but I do not in any way miss the “eight to five” life I was living. For one reason, it was draining me of all the energy that I wanted to use to discover my true passion. I wanted to answer the giant childhood question of “what do I want to be when I grow up?” which has been transformed in my adult years to “what can I have fun doing and get paid for?”
Now I find myself through unfortunate circumstance in the fortunate position of having some extra time on my hands, a few doctor-ordered months of healing that I can also use to write a business plan or take some online courses. Of course I mentioned this to my good friend and Pastor, Bill, and he throws it all out the window. A book. He thinks I should write a book.
What about? Who would read it? How can I guarantee it’d be a money-maker? I don’t know. All I know is I’ve never had much faith in myself but I’ve always had a lot of faith in Bill. So if he thinks I can write a book then what the heck. I’ll try and write a book.
Of course the most important man in my life, my husband Adam, doesn’t like my writing style. So don’t you think I have that statement on repeat in my mind as I try to write anything? Thanks for the comment – jerk. Yet he says he thinks I’d write an interesting book and that he’d read it. Still, I can’t help but hear “it’s just not my style”.
Why do I need so much validation? I guess I want some assurance that I could make a living as an artist – any kind of artist – and it looks like writing is my best chance at doing that.
So we’ll have to see how it goes. I just have no idea where to start and I don’t want to waste this time I’m being given. I’ve wasted enough time as it is.