Transformation
I am one of those people with both incredible good fortune, and incredible calamity. I think of the following story from my life as indicative of pretty much how things go for me. I have Crohn's disease, so each pregnancy has been something of a miracle--and something 99 out of 100 doctors would tell me was foolhardy. Baby #3 started out . . . well, wonderfully. I didn't have nearly the morning sickness as #2, and the Crohn's disease appeared to be staying in remission, again unlike #2. But oddly enough my heart kept skipping beats. Not one or two, but bunches of them, and then it would pound fast to catch up. My "resting" pulse was 120.LONG story short, an echocardiogram revealed I had a cardiomyopathy, and thus I gave birth with a catheter in my heart. Now (and here's the analogy) . . . a cardiologist can put a Swanz-Gans catheter in with his or her eyes closed. Except mine. Because my NICE cardiologist, the one I liked, DIDN'T get to put it in through some . . . I don't know, privilege issue at the hospital . . . I got the surgeon on call instead. And he, to put it nicely, was a jackass. And so while I was IN LABOR, they tilted me on a table upside down about 45 degrees (imagine being in labor, folks), inserted the catheter in my neck/collarbone, and start threading it to my heart. And then it got stuck. The catheter, which jackass hadn't bothered to check, had a "kink" in it. Entailing me REMAINING in labor, upside down, with half a catheter on its way to my heart, while the "ran" to find another. I was in pain, AWAKE (you are not sedated for a Swan-Ganz) my chest was in pain . . . and well, it was not a highlight of my life. But then, once it was in . . . 20 hours later (thanks to the baby being turned the wrong way), I had a BABY GIRL. One of the four most wonderful things that has ever happened to me. It was worth it. So much so I did it again and ended up with Demon Baby, one of the lights of my life.
But that crooked catheter is always this mental image I have. And like all my analogies, I bring it back to writing. We get stuck. The path is crooked. And we have a choice to get back on the path or . . . well, to get off. To stop writing. To abandon this journey. Which brings me to a wonderful quote from His Holiness, the Dalai Lama:
Encountering sufferings will definitely contribute to the elevation of your spiritual practice, provided you are able to transform calamity and misfortune into the path.
Writers should never expect the work to go smoothly. That's something they don't tell you in college. I don't know about any of you, but I used to be able to whip out essays and short stories for classes with virtually no effort, almost stream of consciousness. Maybe because it was early in my career, maybe because I had this bubbling well of stuff I wanted to set to paper. But no one told me that churning out a novel could lead you places difficult to even write from. Stuck places. Calamity and misfortune.
But in the practice of writing, like life, these crooked spots are to be expected. It's the wise writer who takes a deep breath and elevates himself or herself above the rejection and the crooked place.
And I am late to this party, but you all, by now, know about Liar's Diary. The author has cancer and writers are supporting her by blogging about the book because she cannot do promotion right now. The reviews are wonderful for this book . . . and I've ordered my copy. Support this author, please. Do a compassionate deed today. It'll make you feel good. And then you'll have this great book to read, too.
And thoughts? How do you get through the crooked spots? The calamities. How do you transform the work? Stay focused?
In short, how do you pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and keep going?
In short, how do you pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and keep going?
Labels: Buddhism and writing, writer's journey
posted by Erica Orloff at 6:21 AM
29 Comments:
Your posts always touch my little heart. I don't tell you that often enough!
Aww, Smart . . . thanks.
:-)
E
Wow. I thought birthin' a backward babe was bad enough. Glad they didn't stand me on my head and poke bent stuff into me. :0
"In short, how do you pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and keep going?"
By reading the right, supportive and informative blogs. ;-)
xo
Lainey:
You're just a cutie today.
And I highly recommend NOT giving birth standing on your head. It's not fun.
:-)
E
I give myself permission to go through a whole range of emotions before putting a boot to my own ass and forcing myself back in the chair.
Setbacks are nothing more than extra bricks being added to lengthen the yellow brick road. In my mind, that means more room for adventure and I’m always game for that. ;-)
Wow. That's ... scary as hell.
To answer your question, I don't know. I just show up to write, and if it doesn't write, I get some good reading done. Then there's going to the movie theater. It's bizarre to me that I don't have a screenwriting itch; I love, love, love going to movies. Usually, after a movie, I fall in love with story all over again, and then I can't wait to write.
If I really want something, I get more determined to make it work and I strive to be better. Sometimes this means tearing apart what I had and starting over.
Sometimes, like in the middle of childbirth, you don't have a choice and have to keep going. Erica, so glad you and your baby girl made it through.
Marcia:
What a great way to look at it! That sounds like a self-help book in the making. :-)
E
spy:
I am the same way.
Music, too. Good lyrics/good musical storytellers like John Hiatt, Bruce Springsteen.
E
edie:
Good point. usually at SOME point in giving birth I had a moment where I would, mid-pushing, say, "I've changed my mind and want to go home," and would make the Labor and Delivery nurses laugh. But I usually meant it. And I usually (I think) knew I was pretty much going to have to keep going. :-)
E
Erica, okay the memory of those forceps coming my way seems very small about now. Bless your little heart. You're a goddess, girl!
And in answer to your question, you just pick yourself up if matters to you. And writing matters.
ladonna:
So matter of fact. I love it.
It matters. :-)
E
Well, I'm going to have to get my wife to read today's blog. We always thought she had the birthing stories from hell. In both cases she was in labor forever (50+ hours for the first one and close to 40 for the second one) before the docs decided, "Oh, I guess you're not progressing, we'd better do a C-section."
I mean, the second time, the residents on duty kept asking us, "Why did you have a C-section the first time?"
"Failure to progress," we'd respond through clenched teeth (both of us, but me because I thought the residents were being stupid).
Life's just filled with everything, isn't it?
I'm really in awe of the stuff you've been through to have your kids. I couldn't bring myself to push something out my birth canal under even the best circumstances.
I just started writing again yesterday after 5 days of nothing. And yeah, writing isn't easy.
Wow. I've heard some horror stories about labor, but never one like that. I'm so glad you and your babies made it through okay each time.
As for me keeping going, sometimes I just have to write until those voices go away, until the only voices I hear are those of my characters. I've long used writing as a form of escape. Now I'm using it to escape from, well worrying about writing.
I'll second Lainey's post with an added HUZZAH! for emphasis.
I know I have a BAD case of the 'I'm-no-good-at-this' when I don't even want to come here... Sometimes I need to have a real ass-kicking to get me going. Fortunately I have plenty of takers for that job.
Thanks to Erica and everyone who visits here for being the best positive and most profound contribution to me and my writing. I hope I can be that contribution to you as well.
I had the same experience in high school and college: I could wait until the the day before assignments were due before writing them and still get an A plus. I think everyone in this coffee shop can tell a similar story; the competition was lacking.
How do you get through the crooked spots? The calamities.
When you have found that activity, the success or failure of which is irrelevant to your pursuit of it, you have found your one true passion.
Thanks to Erica and everyone who visits here for being the best positive and most profound contribution to me and my writing. I hope I can be that contribution to you as well.
It seems every week or two I get to know someone in Blogtopia I feel I've known from a former life. Brian fills the shoes this week. Sorry for the hyperbole.
Mark:
Pikers.
Just kiddin'. 40+ hours sounds like no friggin' picnic!!!
E
Zoe:
There's tremendous motivation to push something out when it weighs 8 pounds and wants out. :-)
E
booklady:
Until the voices go away . . . very poetic.
E
Ewoh:
Back at ya! You always remind us to accept "what is."
E
stephen:
Yup. We must have all sat next to each other in a high school writing class in some other life.
:-)
E
And sometimes those crooked places send you new exciting direction that enhance your project. Then other times they get lost.
Either way, the ride is worth it.
Travis.
Amen to that.
E
Writing has never been easy for me. Essays and God, term papers were mental wrestling matches (unless I was writing about Hitchcock!). So writing a novel is like trying to push out a baby who's turned sideways. But I do it ... well, I'm not sure why. It's not for the money, the glory or even to feel good about myself. I think writing is just what I do because having done a lot of different jobs in my day, I was never really good at anything else than writing.
Thanks for the great blog!
Mary
I either:
--Look for the lesson
--Remind myself that-"This too shall pass"
--Think about how I'll use "it" later in a book
--or, on a good day, all three.
I also have this sign on my bulletin board reading-
Acceptance, enjoyment, enthusiasm--
so whenever something unsavory happens, I look at that sign, and strive for acceptance at the very least. . .
Great Post Erica, and may I say, you are one brave soul!
Mary:
I am a really good bartender. I'm not a half-bad blackjack dealer. I can play poker pretty well. And I am a damn good waitress. But this is really . . . well, the best gig.
E
Alyson:
I like your motto. :-)
I don't know if I am brave at all. I think I was always more terrified of NOT having children--that's how much I love being a mother. Some people are just hard-wired that way. I'd love to have two more. An even half dozen.
My oldest (going off to college in August) thinks I should adopt a few kids (now that she's leaving and won't have to babysit!). :-)
E
LMAO Erica, I'll bear that in mind!
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