Conversations with Myself

I have been busy. Extremely so. Between helping out on my parents' farm (a neverending adventure) and going to class and doing homework and studying for the Praxis II, I haven't had much time for writing. Really, I haven't had much desire to write lately, period.

So the urge to write took me by surprise today. In fact, it happened right in the middle of reading the summary of Oedipus Rex. No idea why. I don't really like the play. But it really made me want to write.

And my class makes me want to write, too. I never realized how much of a grammar nerd I was until this class, but now I find re-learning the rules of grammar actually exciting. Now, instead of saying, "Well, that sentence looks funky, but I'm not sure why" I can actually point out why. (Yes, I am officially a dork.)

Also, being outside, counting cows, learning how to feed hay (and how to drive a huge diesel truck and operate a hay spear), cleaning, rearranging and all that it entails has really inspired me. I've actually caught myself daydreaming while out mucking stalls and chopping wood. A very good thing, because my daydreaming ability has been severely limited as of late. In fact, I believe that it is stifled by sitting in front of a computer screen all day. My best ideas don't come when I'm actually sitting down to write, but when I'm in the middle of doing something physical. Strange, huh?

Speaking of dreams, I also realized that I haven't really had a dream in a while. Granted, I want to be a teacher, so that is sort of a dream, but I tend to think of it more as a goal. A possibility. Something I will come to achieve sooner or later. It's within my reach as long as I keep reaching. But, in that sense, it's a bit depressing. When did I go from a girl with HUGE, practically impossible dreams to one with attainable goals? How boring is that?

What made me think this? My friend. She's continually dreaming up these grand ideas about what she wants to do with her life. She wants to operate a sign business (and is actually doing so now), but she also wants to open an indoor playground/daycare/gym/spa. (Yes, all combined into one.) If you took a picture of her idea, I'm sure it would glitter and have flashing lights and all that, because it is so BIG. It made me sad to think that I didn't have a BIG dream anymore.

What about becoming a novelist? Yes, what about that. I would call it a dream deferred. I haven't written anything in so long . . .I haven't even READ about publishing or querying or anything of that nature in so long, I feel disconnected from it all. Honestly, it feels as if I've given up on it.

I don't know why I feel like that. Maybe I'm suffering from an it's-time-to-grow-up-Wendy moment. Because, honestly, I would love to pursue that dream of being a published (and successful) novelist, but that dream has taken a backseat to the dream of having a job that is not only rewarding, but will give me the first opportunity in my LIFE to stop living paycheck to paycheck. Once I have that, I think I will  be able to focus more on writing. Actually, once I don't have a very important test to study for, I might start writing again. In the meantime, it's back to pursuing those little dreams (a.k.a. goals).

The Pointless Journey of Self-Discovery

About once a week I have an epiphany. An "ah-ha!" moment where I discover some aspect of myself that was previously hidden from me. You'd think at that rate, I should have a pretty good grasp on who I am. And that would probably be true, if I would quit changing.

See, as we become more aware of certain traits in ourselves (and sometimes even traits in others), we adapt to embrace or reject that trait. (I think that might be the royal we.) For example, I've known for a long time that I'm a perfectionist. I could either embrace that aspect of myself or I could reject it. What did I decide? Um. Still working on that.

No, this isn't my arm. I'm not that hairy.

But I have decided that I'm going to quit trying to "find" myself, because once I do, I inevitably flit away again. Maybe that means I'm wishy-washy, but I prefer to call myself malleable.

I'm the type of person (most of the time) who will try anything once (the exception being something stupid or dangerous or both). Because of this, I find and gain interests at a rapid pace. I pretty much like everything, actually. I like politics, science, mathematics, English, poetry, foreign languages, crafts, mechanics (though I pretend ignorance so my husband doesn't actually make me change my own oil), dancing, music (ALL KINDS), crocheting, typing, puzzles, writing, gardening, fishing (surprise, surprise), exercising, running, shadow-boxing, painting, baking, cooking, drawing, etc. I could go on and on. In fact, most of the time I feel a bit overwhelmed by all my interests and will find myself torn over which ones to pursue. (You ever heard that song by Terri Clark, "I Wanna Do it All"? That's totally me. But at the same time that I have all these diverse interests, I'm hesitant to share them with people for fear of coming across as less than knowledgeable/talented/experienced. Why? Must be the perfectionism kicking in.

But I'm slowly becoming okay with my wishy-washiness, my scatter-brained eagerness to discover and learn and try more and more things. Now, if that perfectionist side of me would only get with the program and let me crow about my interests without fear that someone will come along and call my efforts pathetic.

What are your interests? Any that you've recently acquired?