Live Like a Mighty River—Deep Wisdom from Poet Ted Hughes

Here, my friends, is a letter that is worth reading. Click on the quote below to read the entire letter. Please share your thoughts in the comments.

The only calibration that counts is how much heart people invest, how much they ignore their fears of being hurt or caught out or humiliated. And the only thing people regret is that they didn’t live boldly enough, that they didn’t invest enough heart, didn’t love enough. Nothing else really counts at all.

Don’t Postpone Joy

Fuck celiac disease. I mean really. I think I have it, but I have to wait until the end of the month for a doctor to stick a scope down my throat and through my stomach to view my small intestine and take some tissue samples to confirm the diagnosis. Other than that, my symptom correlation is stupidly amazing:

  • Eat wheat, get migraine.
  • Eat wheat, get vertigo.
  • Eat wheat, get diarrhea and cramps.
  • Severe anemia.
  • Severe muscle aches and spasms.
  • Drink beer, get migraine.
  • History of miscarriages and giving birth prematurely.
  • History of anemia.
  • Previous diagnosis of irritable bowel syndrome.
  • Don’t eat wheat, feel a whole lot better.

Apparently, it will take a while for my intestines to repair, but at least my gut has a fighting chance now. After several weeks of coping with reactive depression, I’m starting to feel better. It is what it is. I am doing what I need to do to take care of myself because I’m worth it. Suicidal ideations notwithstanding.

I bought a guitar. She’s beautiful. I’m learning to play her and then I can play and sing. Doesn’t matter that I can’t eat gluten. I can still enjoy my life. I can still make beauty. I refuse to postpone joy.

What was I thinking? /facepalm

Lately, I’ve been feeling the “hey, you haven’t been earning any money” pressure. Bills happen and I need to be contributing financially to the family, in addition to what I do around the house (which isn’t a lot when I’ve been feeling crappy and migrainey and sick). So, I think, what can I be doing to earn some cash?

Well, I have lots of ways to do that. This blog for example. The glass art I (used) to do. Writing. Problem is, I haven’t really done them lately. Now, we can get all up into “why haven’t you done that? what is holding you back? why do you pull away from success?” and I can spend a lot of time analyzing it and trying to figure things out. And I still won’t be actually *doing* anything about it.

To be fair, I have applied at a couple of places around town. The local small-town theatre facility (came very close to landing that one but failed for lack of recent experience in theatre) and the local independent bookstore (a store! full of books! yeah, I could spend my time in there). In the meantime, my brain is saying “you’re not earning any money. you’re not earning any money. you need to earn money.” (Yes, my brain speaks in lower-case. Deal with it.)

So I see the ad for the local fast-food coffee place job fair and something says this is what I should do. I’ve spoken informally to folks who work there and even stopped by last night to pick up an application. Yes, sometimes I am slow for a smart person.

Poking about on the interwebs this morning, I came across http://www.nojobformom.com/ and had my facepalm moment. Why the hell am I thinking about working 20 hours a week for minimum wage slinging coffee with a bunch of disaffected teenagers when I could write about things that interest me and make a lot more dough? Can I not spell r-e-s-i-d-u-a-l-s? What is wrong with me?

Okay, before I go chasing that particular red herring, let me stop and breathe. Now that I’ve had my epiphany, it’s time to lay off the self-flagellation and ask our DBT question:

What is the most effective thing I can do to move forward?

This post is, itself, the answer. I can start writing! Ms. No Job for Mom has a free ebook on how to get started, so that sounds like a good place to get started! Already downloaded and begun. And, instead of scheduling myself for 16 hours a week of minimum-wage mayhem, I can schedule myself for 16 hours a week of income-generating writing. And I don’t even have to apply, or interview myself, or anything!

Whew, that was close. I almost fell victim to “I’m a loser who doesn’t deserve anything but a crap job” and “You’ll never succeed anyway” thinking. Disaster averted. Yay!

“NO NAYSAYING RUBBERNECKING FUCKSTICKS ALLOWED”

25 Ways to Survive as a Creative Person

http://terribleminds.com/ramble/2012/08/07/25-ways-to-survive-as-a-creative-person/

Thank you Chuck Wendig for this inspiring post, and props to Erin for cluing me into it.

A couple of thoughts. First, my language ain’t pretty. I like to swear. I like to smoke. I like to be nasty. Sometimes, vulgarity is what expresses my feelings best. I used to think Zen was all quiet and proper and nice and shit. But it’s not always that way. It’s nice when it’s nice and it’s shit when it’s shit. “What is Buddha?” “Shit-stick”. Yep, Buddha is what you wipe your ass with. And what you wipe off of your ass. Buddha is used tampons, rotting carcasses, and stinky-assed farts. Buddha is also beautiful flowers, stunning sunsets, and so much love that it knocks your socks off. Deal with it.

But Chuck’s post hit home in another way for me: permission to get rid of the negative people in my life. “Don’t let ‘em in your house or your head.” I’ve spent way too much time giving guided tours of my house and my head to people who don’t have my best interests or success at heart. Fuck that shit. It’s my house and I don’t want you in it. Goodbye. I’ve got important shit to do.