Seek freedom….

The LaneSeek freedom and become captive of your desires. Seek discipline and find your liberty.

– Frank Herbert

Distractions…and the power of a good story

There’s a lot of things that distract us and pull us away from our work — whatever that work may be.

There’s the simple life things that aren’t really distractions… the things that truly need taking care of: doing the dishes, eating properly, moving the body, chasing dust bunnies, chopping wood, caring for our families and ourselves,.
There are emergencies that pull our pull our focus and demand our attention.
There are sadnesses.
There is loss.

There are also our favourite guilty distractions. Mine is television. Since the CBC killed their analog signal, we only have one channel on our TV – the wonderful world of CTV.

English: Old logo for CTV Television Network
English: Old logo for CTV Television Network (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Home of News for the North and my favourite weather woman, Jill Colton. I enjoy CTV and I also enjoy the wide world of TV on my computer. Ahh… the ole typer machine… filled with hours and hours of legal entertainment… Dr Who and Alphas over on SPACE, Lost Girl, Copper and Common Law over on Showcase, all manner of fun at Bravo, A&E, Global, and… oh yeah… a weekly dose of Corry Street and some good documentaries over on CBC. Not to mention that if I REALLY want to watch a lovely film I can dig through the archives over at the NFB.

It is all there… at my fingertips… including entire seasons of some shows I missed the first time ‘round like Combat Hospital, The Cult and that special favourite of mine Sanctuary (also the working title of my NIP).

It’s all there and I can slip down that bunny hole for hours at a time.
And I do.
And then… I crawl into bed full of self-loathing.

Because I use television like a drug.

When I do this, I do not choose … GREAT television. I do think there is GREAT television. What I mean here is … TV I enjoy but that I can watch with only part of my brain. At least I think that is what I mean. I am entertained, but… it doesn’t truly reach down into my gut. I mean, I truly do love some of these shows but… maybe it’s the way I’m using them that is the trouble.

I know when I start bingeing on television that what I’m actually doing is avoiding my … self.
That there is something roiling and rising within me and I, for whatever reason, don’t want to deal with it.

On the days that I am feeling kindly towards myself, I will say “I’m just not ready” to face whatever it is that has driven me to the boobtube in this compulsive mode.
Some days, I will even watch myself watching things with a strange detatchment. I am fascinated by this woman sitting there for hours staring at the flashing lights. I always think, “What is she looking for? She seems to be looking for something.”

I had a binge a few days back.
This one had an obvious trigger.

I got some news.
Bad news. Sad news.
A loss in the family. My blood family.
My very complicated blood family. Complicated in all the usual ways. By distance. By ancient betrayals. By neglect and deep sorrow.

This news comes and pries open that aching “family” void in my middle and though I know that the only way past the pain is to step into the void and wade on through it…
to bring it to my scribble book…
to take it with me on the walk down the lane…
to let myself mourn and grieve…
though I know this, I turn instead to the flickering light.

I turn to the machine and I fill my eyes with images and my ears with other peoples words to occupy my mind with another story.
A story that is away away away from this pain.

And it doesn’t release anything.
And it doesn’t even soothe me. It just fills the time, steals the time.

And then… I read a blog post about a story… about a book… about a story I love in a book I love and I go and I pull that book off my shelf
and I read… A Perfect Day for Bananafish by J.D. Salinger.

and then… I can weep.
And then, I can come back to putting words on the page.
And then, I can sit again in silence, with my sad self, and allow the sadness.
And then I can say farewell to the boy I barely know.


With love and squalor – pam

PS: Much thanks to Dolly Delightly for your fabulous, thoughtful post on Salinger on your Book Me book blog.
And, as always, much thanks to J.D. Salinger, whose stories remain fresh and full of power to this day.

Shake and Bake 1: The terror-I-zed edition

I’ve been having quite a blast exploring The Fluent Self, the fantastic blog/site WORLD of Havi Brooks.

I’m intrigued and pleased by Havi’s weekly round up ritual that she calls Friday Chickens…Chickens are soooo much funner than Check Ins…
and I hereby applaud her. Her blog was one of the first “stranger blogs” that I signed up to follow via email. Stranger as in… I haven’t met her in person . Though some might think the blog is strange — I think it is fantastic!

Every week, her Chickens land in my inbox and … they tickle me.
She is honest and hopeful and wise and … she doesn’t shirk on the hard bits.
I’m totally growing an internet crush on this gal and her duck.

Rubber DucksC’mon.
If the duck doesn’t get you click on of those links up there… I just don’t know what will.

Anyhow – here’s my thing.

I do want to do a weekly check in with the world. Out loud.
I have no idea why I want to do this.
I think it is mainly…

  1. To see what happens.
  2. To see how things evolve as I continue work on the NIP.
  3. To take a FEW minutes to review the week and REMEMBER what happened.
  4. And to… tell someone.
  5. To write it down. For myself and for anyone else out there who might like to play along.

I would like it to be brief and not boring.

Havi’s Chickens are never boring.

I could and perhaps should and perhaps WILL join the gang over at TFS who do chickens along with Havi. That feels fun and do-able.

And I also want to put it here.
In case YOU would like to play and in case it evolves into something… even more fun… and/or triggers some discussion.

So… let me begin.

The Gnarbly Bits (being the hard stuff):

Sad news. Hard news. From far away. Not only distance far but… heart far. Deep in the ache far.
I don’t want to detail it here. But it aches and it hurts and… it has been a sad week for me.

Still feeling like I do not manage to produce ENOUGH work on the NIP.
Meaning, this week (and last week – which went by without a check in) a few days with no new words laid down in the NIP.
Some days held MANY words. But I want to find them daily. And I do not know why this seems so difficult for me.

Biggest hard – being mean to myself. Being mean and knowing it is … foolish and destructive and still not being able to stop.
What is UP with that?

The Tasty Bits (being the good stuff):

Talking with friends about the Sad News. Friends miles away but close in heart. Thank you.

Holding hands with my Love and him rubbing my back when the sadness seems too heavy.

Time on the guitar. Only bits of time, but time. Feels good.

Taking time to read and to enjoy the reading and not think I am “wasting” time.
Re-reading some Salinger which I talk about in the next post.
Reading a book on energy work and others on nutrition and natural healing. Also reading fun fiction/fantasy.

Doing this check in thing.
I think it is a good thing — but it feels quite horrifying to tell you the truth. Far too honest, I suppose.

And the inner dialogue begins (Imagine Thing One and Thing Two battling it out in my brain):

There is NO way you can post this on your blog.
No way.

Why not?

It’s horrifying.
If you feel you need to do this stupid thing, you need to do it anonymously.


Because… it’s whiny and weird and … ANYONE could read it.
Look, Maybe you should just do it for yourself.

Yeah.  Maybe.

Or you could post it over on Havi’s blog.

Yeah.  I could do that.
But what is the big deal?  Why is the idea of this thing giving you such a panic attack?

Oh my god, It’s true.  I’m having a heart attack right now.  Can you not feel that?

I can feel it but you are not having a heart attack.  You are simply… anxious.

Oh, OK.  I’m simply anxious. But seriously – tell me that you are NOT posting this on your blog.

It’s our blog.

Whatever.  Promise me!



If that’s really what you want.

It is.


Are you sure?

Sure I’m sure.  We’re in this together right?

It’s just that…  I want you to write… better things for the blog. Y’know what I mean?  I want you to make a site for us.  An AUTHOR’S WEBSITE.  You can’t be all blah blah nekkid up on some site that people will come to looking for your WORK.  Jesus!  If you feel a need to do that – get another site.  Do it somewhere else.  Don’t do it here.  That’s mad.

Just out of curiousity… what happens if I’m all “blah blah nekkid” on here?

People will see it and they will think we are CRAZY.

Do you think Havi is crazy?

No, but that’s different.  That’s her mission – to help people get destuckified.  So she shares her process with people.  You don’t need to share your process with people.  What does it have to DO with anything?

Well, doesn’t it have to do with the writing?  With finding our way to the stories we need to tell.
To what even you seem to think are the important stories that we want to tell?
Doesn’t it have to do with how we are finding our way through this thing, this … life?  And doesn’t that have to do with the writing?

Maybe.  But… Well… Still, you can’t do it!

Because it will compromise our mission?


And being embarrassed will compromise us as an artist?

Well…. Oh I don’t know.  Shut up!

And what do you think your mission…. our mission is?

To make maps that help people find there way out of the dark…sometimes.  Sometimes just to … entertain.

Really.  Really?

Oh shut up with the “really” in that tone.  Did you not hear Jian and  Neil Genslinger on Q on Friday?  The snarky “really” is so on it’s way out.

…silence… and a tone full look from the soul-full one.

(The other one sighs in frustration, knowing she will never get through to the hippy-dip and make her see sense). Do whatever you want.  See if I care.

Well, I’m not gonna post it if you are going to pout about it for the whole weekend.

Go ahead.  Flash all your ugly bits right out there.  What do I care if you want to be a big flasher face.

My ugly bits?

Hard things are ugly.

Oh, Sweety.  They aren’t ugly.  They’re just human.

Will you at least follow up this Saturday or Sunday Shake and Bake Chicken/Check In  thing with some kind of… literary post?

You mean bury it?

I mean don’t leave it hanging up there.  People can find these check in chickens if they want to. But please, promise that you will keep it short and that you will IMMEDIATELY follow it with something more… interesting… than your personal scabbage.

I can do that.



And so it goes…
The Shake and Bake is hereby born. I hereby, as queen of this particular chunk of cyberland, declare this Edition One.
Future editions will much shorter.
Unless I continue to talk to myself.

Thanks for stopping by.

go easy -p

The Deals We Make with ourselves…

Scream Cropped (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Woke with THE FEARS this morning.

The fear I get when I don’t think I’m “working hard enough”.

Things are actually going quite well, but had a few days this week where I slipped off my newISH “1000 wds per day” rule.

We are doing more insulating on the shack and the kitchen ceiling which we thought would take 2 hours took 6 and then… well… It’s what it always is… just life innit?

But today is another day….
And another chance to begin again.

Seems like all week I’ve been tripping over pieces about DEALS we writers make with ourselves to keep ourselves at it.

Sipping tea and spiralling down my newest favourite bunny hole over on Susan Swan’s Blog – I read about how she originally made a deal with herself to sit for four hours at her desk and work – writing, researching, thinking about what she was writing. She went so far as to have a sheet where she signed herself in and out. EVENTUALLY the four hours became part of her every day routine.

I pick up a copy of O Magazine in the waiting room at the doctor’s office the other day and read a piece by Aimee Bender.
called Why the Best Way to Get Creative Is to Make Some Rules wherein she lays out how she has been faithful to her two-hours-a-day writing routine every morning, five or six days per week, for almost 17 years.

And the most fascinating part of this, for me, is that she STOPS at the 2 hour mark. Even if she is on a roll.

Fossil Sitting In Sun Light (Photo credit: A Guy Taking Pictures)

She holds the 2 hours sacred.
She holds herself to the rigid time structure as a way to FREE herself.
You have to read the article to really get it – but what I love is that she has found a way to make… “a declaration against the regular dread I used to feel all the time when I wasn’t writing.”

She found her way to overcome THE FEARS.

That is exactly what I’m aiming for.

Words or Hours… a Writer’s Contract with myself feels to be just what the Doctor ordered.

How was your week – writing wise?
Do you have a routine?
A schedule?
Or do you wing it?

Thanks for stopping by.

Here’s a smile before you go.
Remember Fraggle Rock?

Here’s Ben Folds Five and the Fraggles – rockin’ out with DO IT ANYWAY

Go easy -p

The Scent of Old Book

Old books

Hey all!

Figuring out a way to gather shiny bits of loveliness from the web and share them with you here.  This is a lovely post from Multo about the power of scent…

The Scent of Old Book.

It’s a lovely read.  Especially for those of us who haunt used book stores and libraries.  Who love the feel and the smell of books in our hands.  And for those of us who are carried back in time by the smell of….

Pop over and take a look if you get the chance.

go easy -p

…flaming nights…and perfect laughter…

On my walk yesterday, I got thinking about this quote by Charles Bukowski.

If you’re going to try, go all the way. Otherwise, don’t even start.

This could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives and maybe even your mind. It could mean not eating for three or four days. It could mean freezing on a park bench. It could mean jail. It could mean derision. It could mean mockery–isolation.

Isolation is the gift.
All the others are a test of your endurance, of how much you really want to do it.

And, you’ll do it, despite rejection and the worst odds.

And it will be better than anything else you can imagine.

If you’re going to try, go all the way.
There is no other feeling like that.
You will be alone with the gods, and the nights will flame with fire.
You will ride life straight to perfect laughter.

It’s the only good fight there is.
Charles Bukowski, Factotum

This quote has always pulled at me. That… “go all the way” challenge. Simple to see the pull for me – I NEVER think I am working hard enough, doing well enough, going deep enough…

But I thought I might lay it out here and see what you all think about it.

See, sometimes Bukowski really BUGS me. He pisses me off, actually. He is one of those guys – y’know, the guys we were all reading when we were in our twenties. Bukowski blurs in, for me, with some of the Beats – Keroac and Burroughs -the swaggering boys of excess…drink and drugs and sex and beatitude – “be out there“, “be real”…

It appeals, of course – trying to find the way through to that … LINE. That perfect line of poetry, of wisdom, of truth. Trying to bash our way through to that perfect rhythm word groove – clickety-clack, tappety-tap, the burning wave of words falling tripping off the tongue. That line that we can almost taste but never quite reach.

Maybe we need to sneak up on it.

Anyhow – those swaggering guys with all their pronouncements and their certainty that their way was the not only the BEST way, but the only REAL way. Dismissing so many other ways in their friggin’… Holden Caufield stance of superiority where everyone else is just a big phony… ok, ok… stop throwing stuff… I know there is more to HOLDEN than that – but you get my drift, yah?

The only BEAT I dig is Ginsberg.

But Bukowski… he sticks with me. He haunts me and he BUGS me.
I turn his words over in my mind.

I think… “Really? Really? Did you TRY ALL THE WAY, mister drunkypants? Wouldn’t ALL the WAY mean stopping the drinking for a BIT and seeing what words came then? Did you really do this? Were you free? Were you honest? Maybe you were. I know you had some beautiful runs. Maybe I need to read you again and see what I think NOW. Maybe I will.”

I can see that this somewhat cranky response is defensive.

It’s quite the gauntlet he throws down for us.

And it rings true. Of course it does.
All the best writing is dangerous.
And it will cost us to put on the page and send it into the world.
Lordy don’t I know THAT.

And, he is right about the ecstasy too.
The moments when the words come out in a torrent riding a wave of rage or beauty. And the opposite. wpid-img_4047-2012-09-16-23-10.jpgThe slow words, hunched over, turned in our hands like stones used to make a level place to stand. Moved here and there. Bumping up against each other. Slipping into place. Slipping out of place.
wpid-img_4048-2012-09-16-23-10.jpgTil we finally lean back and LOOK and say, “Yes. That’s it.” And we look at the clock and hours have gone by and we have made a thing we are proud of. And we are SPENT. In a good way.

Bukowski – if his own word can be believed, pumped out 3-4 stories per week. All while reeling from bar to bar.  Now, I don’t really know if that is true.  I need to find me a good biography of the man and find out.

However, whenever, he wrote the stories and the poems — the man had a VOICE that’s for sure.

What do you think?

Oh there is so much I would like to talk with you about.

Here’s to flaming nights and perfect laughter.

Thanks for stopping by.

go easy -p

Harvest This – Seed That…

Did a bit of harvesting yesterday.
The beets are few – but tasty!

wpid-img_4093-2012-09-16-18-44.jpgIt’s Monday and …
Remember that crazy declaration I made some weeks ago about “turning over a new leaf” and really buckling down to rededicate myself to the writing of that there Novel in Progress… or whatevs?

Well, I haven’t erased the embarrassing post.
And I do feel like this is a fresh new year — with much to be harvested, so…here I am to fess up to how my week went.

I re-looked over the schedule of my “dream day” – and, well… I totally haven’t had one of those yet.

I’m not up that early yet – more like 8am or so.
The shack is chilly in the morning these days – so the morning yoga has only happened a few times.
It’s not QUITE chilly enough for a fire. Therein lies the problem. Once it is truly cold, perhaps I will shift into:

  • Get up
  • Light the fire and make coffee
  • Do my scribble (which, these days is taking about an hour)
  • THEN do some yoga

heh heh.

See – I can’t HELP but make lists/goals – dream of being more disciplined..

So… I only managed to hit my mat a few times this week and the guitar remains dusty but the GOOD NEWS is..

I have indeed climbed back into the NIP (novel in progress) and things are moving along at a nice steady pace – day by day.

I backed up and had a read-through to get back into the world of Miss Izzy and the gang — and this week, I have managed to add at LEAST 1000 new words per day to the manuscript.

I’m not big on the word counting thing – I know it doesn’t mean much.
But for me, right now, it is a way to measure and to insure that I get my butt in the chair and move the story forward every day.

This is what I need to do right now. I need to take what I learned with Gal and the gang and use that spirit of “yes let’s” to see where this other set of characters wants to go. I will go back… later… and craft things, of course. But for now, I really feel that I must push ahead.
It feels good to be hunched over, planting the rows of words that will hopefully blossom into a tale worth telling.
I’ll do the weeding when it’s time and hope for a fruitful harvest.

A good friend sent me a note the other day. We’d been talking, a bit about where I’m at with things and he said, “As an old friend once told me after he finished a play, ‘In the second act I just hip-waded it through the marshes.’ Maybe some hip-wading is permissible.”

He nailed it.
That is exactly where I am right now with this story – hip-wading it through the marshes.

Most days, I do a few hours and get more than the 1000 word minimum I have set for myself.
Some days they come easy and some days they come hard.
But they come.

That’s the most important thing.

I also do some work on notes outside of the “new words” and I carry on with other “writerly biz” along the way.

Two interesting things I’ve signed up for:

A live video talk by Salman Rushdie being put on by Goodreads – Sept 19th.

And a PD workshop/webinar on How to be Your Own Publicist with TWUC (The Writer’s Union of Canada) – Nov 16

How was your week – writing wise? Or yoga wise? or just plain old LIFE wise?
I hope it was good and I wish you a fabulous Monday and hereby blow a breath of fresh air over any new endeavors you’ve undertaken.

Thanks for stopping by.
Go easy -p

3 Day Novel Contest 2012- The Wrap Up

wpid-img_4080-2012-09-7-10-16.jpgEmerging from the fog of the 3DNC (3 Day Novel Contest) and wanted to send you all a missive about how it went this year.
I’m still processing the whole adventure, but here’s a taste.

As you know, I went into the contest with nary a SNIFF of an outline. With a character who demanded that, this year, I simply trust that she had something to show me and that all would be revealed as the hours progressed.


I did what I could.
I loaded in tasty, healthy food and drink.
I swept out my new WRITER TRAILER.


And cleared my side of the writing table inside, near the fire.

I really DID do some yoga to loosen up and a short meditation – wherein I TRIED to clear my busy MONKEY MIND of thought, and … mostly failed and fretted.
I began writing at 12:01 AM.

I knew that the story started on the Broadway Bridge in Saskatoon SK at 4AM.
I thought it was going to be a quiet little contemplative piece with two characters:

  • GAL – who felt like… I dunno… a wise woman? An angel? God? (I STILL don’t know exactly who she is)
  • and A WOMAN – late forties, a bit on the sad and lost side… (There’s a recipe for a barrel of laughs.)

I was prepared to dive deep, immerse myself in the BIG QUESTIONS:

Why are we here?

What is our purpose?


My first clue should have been when my lead character/narrator finally got a name and it was… Casey Finnegan.
Turns out her mother had a bit of a crush on Mr. Dressup.

Gal called for back-up pretty early on…
and then there were FIVE.



… and the whole thing became a road trip.

…avec magick and witchy stuff

…………time shifting
………………….a long lost grandmother dressed as a pirate, living in an airstream…

I do believe I’m in shock.

I carried on, thought the night…


On Monday, I blinked.

I wasn’t sure that what I had written would…hold together at all.
I had followed along… taking any suggestion a character made, following the “Yes, let’s!!” rule from my old improv days.
Whatever I had written on Saturday night was a great blobby blur in my rear-view mirror.

Nothing to do for it but make up a vat of tea.
Print the thing.wpid-img_4066-2012-09-7-10-16.jpg
And have a read.

I chose ginger tea – to quell the nausea.

I didn’t hate it.
It actually isn’t that bad.
It’s sort of… fun actually.
Yeah. That’s it. FUN.

“..the wee beasty…”

I thought this one was gonna go all dark and twisty and poetic and instead…
my subconscious took me on a road trip with some kick-ass babes.

And I’m totally cool with that.

We still yacked about the big questions, we just did it with a few more sh*ts and giggles than I thought we would.

A few survival tips I learned along the way:

  1. When you go blank and need a QUICK boost – click this.
  2. And when you REALLY think ALL IS LOST – click this – and dance with wild abandon.

It will help – I swear to GAL.

I’ve sent her off into the world.wpid-img_4084-2012-09-7-10-16.jpg

The results of the contest won’t be posted til some time in January.
I’ll keep you posted.

Thanks for stopping by.

Go easy -p

Finnegan Begin Again

Ernie Coombs
Ernie Coombs (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

That’s the name of the tale that emerged over the past three days.

It isn’t at all what I thought it would be.

Isn’t that lovely?

I’m off to heat up water, wash, and boat into town to MAIL in my entry.

I still like to rock it old school!

…to be continued

Blue Moon + 3DNC = possibly mad declarations from this writer gal

Remember when I said that I was afraid to start this blog because I might post something stupid? Or something that would come back to “bite me in the ass?”

This could well be one of those times.

The moon is blue tonight.  The 3 Day Novel Contest starts at MIDNIGHT.  Perhaps I’m already off my rocker.

This afternoon, I got to thinking and hoping that … maybe I can use this weekend  as…a beginning of a whole new way of being. I’m feeling a need to…re-dedicate myself… yeah that’s it. To shake things up, shake things off.

A new dedication of myself to the craft and the writer’s life.

I feel that I HAVE been working hard, or (even better) working WELL, writing wise, these last few months, but things still seem to happen in fits and starts.
I want… still more discipline within myself, on the writing and the eating and the moving the bod fronts.

So, I sit here, ready to enter the 3DNC (3day Novel Contest) with a BLANK slate – which I have never done before and I think… This is good.
This is a REAL experiment for you.
And it could be more.
You can declare this night the beginning of a whole new year.
Like a new “school year” but with no school.

When we moved here, this was the plan. To get back to the writing and the reading. To put myself into a sort of “self-directed” MFA.
And I HAVE been working on it. The novel moves ahead. I’m reading and reading and reading.
But… I have also allowed “life” to throw me off course – perhaps a bit too easily.
And, perhaps, I could be a BIT more selective in what I am reading… there isn’t really a “program” – though I did have a stack of books of poetry and plays I wanted to read and more (always) books on craft. Now, (she looks around the room), where did that pile GET too?

I’m always saying – every day is a NEW DAY and you can change your life in an instant. That you just have to DECIDE and TAKE ACTION.

The 3DNC is most definitely a time of ACTION.
This year, it also feels like a time of reflection.
Like I said, I am doing something COMPLETELY NEW – for me, this year.

I am going to go in with – nothing.

Well, with GAL and with … another character who is simply the me/not me.
A woman…of a certain age.
With a background similar to mine.
And… I suppose, though I’m not sure – ISSUES similar to mine.
We will see what comes out.

I will do things differently this year for the 3DNC.
I will listen, closely, to my body.
I will respond with nourishment and care and movement.

I will begin this year with stretchy yoga and a meditation.
I will turn on my 3 hours of TRANCE-y tunes and I will open my heart and we will see what GAL brings to me.

Oh my dears…I can just FEEEEEEEEL potential judges cringing.

I could so CRASH!
I could type up reams of nonsense.
And what, you ask, is so bad about that?
Well, I could… FAIL.

There’s that fear-monster again.

Sometimes, I really wish I could just give myself a freakin’ break.
That is, of course, when I’m not busy berating myself for being a “lazy-arsed good for nothin”

I’m forever making lists and wishful schedules for myself.
You know the type:

  • I rise, alert, at 6AM (5 is even better) after a full nights RESTFUL sleep.
  • I do 1/2 hour of yoga and 15 minutes of meditation.
  • I work in my scribble book – AFTER I have eaten something healthy.
  • I sip good coffee and the scribbles aren’t just about how hideous my hair is – they are … wise and wonderful and poetic and before I know it I have transitioned into working on the project of the day.
  • I work well and strong and clear for at least 2 hours.
  • I break to stretch and eat more healthy food – just a snack, as it is still only about 9 or 9:30 in the morning.
  • I work another 2-3 hours. I would like, very much, to have a GOAL that I can feel “free” after, like say… at LEAST 2000 words per day are ADDED to the work in progress.
  • I break to stretch and make lunch – a GOOD lunch.
  • I go for a walk – alone or with my sweet baboo (depending how HIS day of work is going)
  • I come home and read and nap and write letters and maybe I read a few blog posts and work on one myself.
  • I work around the house – clean a bit, pump water, split wood – whatever needs doing.
  • I make dinner, or we make dinner together.
  • We eat and either watch the river run or watch a movie or just talk.
  • I turn off the ‘puter and the tv at least 2 hours before heading to bed.
  • We read.
  • I practice guitar.
  • I heat up water for a nice warm wash and get into my jim-jams around 9pm
  • I do another 1/2 hour of yoga to relax and ease myself into sleepy land.
  • I crawl into bed and read or maybe I start a new tradition and spend another bit of time in my scribble book – noting things that I am grateful for in the day that has passed.
  • I sleep. Oh if only I could well and truly sleep the world would be a much kinder place, I think.

Is such a schedule too mad to do?

I have freedom, right now.
I think I can hold off getting a “job-job” until … well, I dunno… maybe… I was going to March, but no… I say APRIL.
I can try…no.
As Yoda says, “Do or do not. There is no try…”
I can DO this … this schedule of wonderfulness …

Well, starting WEDNESDAY – cuz til then…I’m busy…listening.

I sit here, typing this and I hear GAL say, “You should post this on your blog.”

“Why not?”
“What if I can’t do it?
“Well then you will be a losah!”

GAL goes silent, but the dialogue continues in my head.

Can I NOT just make a pledge? A simple pledge to rise earlier, write more consistently (instead of bingeing), eat better and do some yoga/meditation?

Make a pledge.
Do it!
Do it publicly!



Oh for mothertruckin’ cheesedoodle sakes – just DO it!

I try to side-step.

“I hereby PLEDGE to spend the next 3 days, listening to GAL and following her guidance and I promise to revisit this page when I wake up on Wednesday morningThe final computer-generated Yoda as seen in t....

And if I feel strong enough…
I WILL post it and I will begin a NEW YEAR – From Labour to Labour, From 3DNC12 to 3DNC13.”

Oh give it UP!
Just declare it – you can always slink back on Wednesday and delete the ENTIRE BLOG if you are such a scaredy pants!

Here goes…

I hereby RESOLVE to:

  • Pay more attention – to the world around me and to this body I have been given.
  • To care for said body – physically, emotionally and spiritually.
  • To do my work daily, with care, attention and joy.
  • To give myself ONE DAY each week to entirely lolly-gag or do whatever I want. I believe that will be SUNDAY.
  • To find something each week that I can do that is like a … date with my self. It could be “an artist” date, like Julia Cameron talks about in “The Artists Way” or it could be just… going to someone’s house and having a bubble bath with a good book and a bottle of wine. A few hours to do something… different, alone. It doesn’t really seem like I would NEED to do this – as all this other stuff is just about ME ME ME – but it feels like I must add this and so.. I shall. I believe this will happen on WEDNESDAYS.

And scariest of all:
I hereby pledge to report back to this public place… regularly… Once a week?  Maybe.  Maybe on Mondays…

I hereby pledge to report back to this public place each Monday to take an honest look at how I have “done”.  Starting AFTER the 3DNC (cuz this MONDAY I’ll hopefully be typing like MAD)

52 weeks.
That is do-able.

I think I will only have… um… 30 weeks til I will HAVE to find a job that will bring in some buckage.
Maybe even less.

Doesn’t matter.
52 weeks it is.

I hereby declare this the year of living (and writing) intentionally (and dangerously too – though it is always that).
OK.  It’s 11pm.

I’m outta here til at least TUESDAY.  Don’t forget to water the plants.

Be well.

And, as always…

Go easy -p

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