Maybe it's just me, but I'm often surprised at what boring people authors are. Last week, I had a chance to watch a day in the life of Tim Ferriss and... snore... Here's the video, but be forewarned it's about 25 minutes of...snore...
The set up is good. He has a few meetings and is going to shoot handguns. Sounds interesting, except for the fact that authors are boring. The most interesting pieces are the interviews. But seriously, if someone's not pulling the information out of him, he's flat and uninteresting.
I personally think it's a facet of the art of writing. An author, particularly a single author, spends his or her days focused on turning thoughts into written words. Speaking is secondary to the skill of translating images to written word.
And, let's be frank.
I'm an incredibly boring person. Even with all my passions - bees, gardening, sunflowers, and whatever - I still spend most of every day and all day during the week translating what I see into written word. Snnnnooooorrrrreee.
I mean Janet Evanovich says, and I'm paraphrasing, a boring workaholic.
Anyway, I'm in the salt mines of Denver Cereal today which means I'm sitting at my desk typing.
For me? Last year had some super duper sucky moments.
One moment looked like this:
A nasty feral hive attacking my big healthy gorgeous hive in a fit of intense robbing that lasted for three days and had our basement dwelling crackhead neighbors calling the city, who in turn, came out to write us a ticket and tell us that if we didn't do something about the hives (which I'd been fighting for three days) they would. So, while I sobbed, we sprayed the bees from the air with a garden hose so they fell to the ground, vacuumed them up, and let them go somewhere near the evil mansion I invented in Brighton for Denver Cereal.
It was a very dark day.
There was no way for the rest of our hives to recover. After a few more fits of drama, and desperate despair, all of our bees died.
How long do you fight for life when the entire world has taken money over life? How long do you fight for the lives of bees when even the stupid vegans are willing to take the fruits of bees labor (vegetable, fruits, nuts, and every other freakin' flowering plant), but chastise the bee keepers who love them, care for them, and fight for their very existence? How much of your soul do you pour into a species you will never understand? How can you believe that you can make any kind of difference when the entire government would rather lines their pockets with corporate money and turn their back on the bees?
When do you stop pouring money you barely have into something that no one gives a crap about?
How long do you fight for life?
And when do you just give up and let the crackhead neighbors and the politicians and the stupid vegans and everyone else win?
When do you just give up?
I stopped beekeeping. I shoved everything into the Bee Barn (which is why it's such a mess), closed and locked the door.
"Isn't it time to order bees again?" the husband asked.
"I'm not a beekeeper," I said.
"Oh, that's all right," he smiled. "I am. Will you order some bees for me?"
I looked up at him. He's deadly allergic to bees. After retrieving a particularly nasty hive from his mother's house, he was stung multiple times and hasn't had much to do with bees since then. He's not a beekeeper.
"Are you getting these so I'll take care of them? Because I won't."
"No," he said. "I reminding you of who you are."
He left for work about that time so there wasn't much more to say.
So I ordered bees - a hive from California and two hives from New Mexico. The New Mexico bees didn't over winter well, but the California bees... well, we pick them up tomorrow.
I've been going out with the husband and Rose in the evenings. They wander the alleys in our neighborhood. It's a great chance to walk, talk, and more recently plant sunflowers.
When we first talked about guerrilla sunflower planting, I wasn't sure we'd ever find a place to plant them. After a few trips out with Rose and the husband, I realize the alleys are perfect places for sunflowers. We plant and walk. It's really quite simple.
Our goal is to plant sunflowers in every alley in our neighborhood. When we're done, we'll go out again. Most likely, we'll get everything planted this year, then go around next year.
Why are we planting sunflowers?
One of the current issues in the death of bees, bats, hummingbirds, and other pollinators in the US, is the loss of flowering plants in favor of grass. As building expands, we continue to take meadow and turn it into what is a pollinator desert - grass.
Further, since the current bee scourge is caused by pesticides, when we remove native fields and flower, we increase the likelihood that the pollinators will come in contact with the pesticide.
A single sunflower has between 2,000 and 3,000 tiny bee feeding flowers in it's center. By guerrilla planting sunflowers, we are not only beautifying the alley's in our neighborhood, but we are also creating more food for local pollinators and our bees.
You'd be amazed. Since our bees died last year, we haven't seen any bees in our neighborhood. None. People ask us about it.
What can you do to help?
Sign every petition. Call you Congress person. Outside of rational legislative action, plant a sunflower. In fact, click the icon below and I'll give you the seeds.
I can't change Congress. I don't own Bayer and can't make them wake up to what they've done.
But I can plant a sunflower. This year, with any luck, our alleys will be filled with their bright sunny faces.
I'd be happy to share them with you.
The icon below will take you to a page that will gather all of your information. If you have a chance, we'd love to see and share your photos of the sunflower you plant. It's that simple.
I woke up this morning and realized I needed to do more research on the Niobrara Oil field boom in Northeastern Colorado.
...and I needed to do my PT exercises...
...and I need to get out in the garden and get a stand for the new beehive made...
...and I need to answer a few emails about interviews and guest posts...
...and President Obama is leaving town from the park by my house...
...and I wanted to get another chapter in Denver Cereal done...
...and Rose wants her treats and to be petted and played with and have the covers held for her...
...and I need to place an order with the gardening center to get some gardening tools...
...and...
If this column is about the life of an author, then we have to talk about all the competing stuff that hits on days like today.
The difference between writing and working any other job I've ever had, including being a therapist, is that it's impossible to write and do anything else. So my list is actually:
Write
or
order from the garden center, see President Obama and his helicopters, do my PT exercises, make the beehive stand, set up interviews and guest posts, play with Rose, research the Niabrara Oil boom, or really anything else.
Because I have such tight deadlines, the decisions are usually no brainers. But in this in between time when I haven't started the next Fey book or the next project, things are a little looser. Loose is lovely and also anxiety producing. How do I choose?
What would you do?
In the meantime, I found this helpful this morning. (Plus, the President left at 8:50 instead of between 9-10 like he was supposed to.)
I have a voice inside me that says, "You always have more to give."
I have a deep knowing inside that reminds me, "Simply by being born in this country, I've been given more than I can ever repay."
I have a vague global understanding that what seems like politics and rhetoric here in the United States - the War on Drugs - is actually life, death, torture, rape, and dislocation for more than 6 million people in Columbia spilling into other Ecuador and other countries.
But I get tired. I want to do less. I want to sit here and watch videos and contemplate my navel.
I don't want to mow the lawn, weed the garden, plant a clematis (three things I did this morning) I want to sit and stress.
When I feel the "I want to do less" come over me, I remember Angelina Jolie. She doesn't have to do anything. She's made enough money to never act again. She has six children to love and care for, which by her account they have very little help. She has big houses and nice shoes. She could spend her days getting facials, manicures, or practicing her lines. Instead, she gets on planes and flies to uncomfortable places to meeting unwashed refugees.
Why does she do this? I honestly think the answer is - because she can.
I admire that. Just as I admire Sean Penn utilizing his innate assholery to get stuff done in Haiti or George Clooney using his wealth and status to go with his father to report atrocities in the Sudan or Matt Damon focusing his and his friend's wealth on clean water.
Marilyn Monroe didn't stretch herself in this way. Nor did Cary Grant or Marlon Brado or Jimmy Stewart or... The actors and actresses of old spent their resources on their habits and lifestyle. Not on attempting to make the world a better place.
I admire anyone who's willing to stretch themselves and their lives, who does one more thing instead of one less thing before going to bed, who sees where they can make an impact and works where they stand - and I admire Angelina Jolie.
So I ask myself - How will I use my life today? What can I do that might make a difference in someone else's life today?
In the last few days, I've tried to express my thoughts about forgiveness - Unforgiveness is a Cancer & Forgiveness = Judgment. There is a third facet to forgiveness - forgiveness in the context of a relationship.
For someone who has such intricate thoughts about forgiveness, I say I'm sorry quite a bit. I realize that in my impatient bumbling through life, I am capable of deeply wounding people without even knowing it. Or to riff off Ivana Vanzant, I know people are on the therapist's couch because of me.
I'm always sorry when I hurt someone's feelings.
How does this all fit together?
Very simply. It goes like this.
I am me. I am responsible for my own emotions and actions.
You are you. You are responsible for your own actions and emotions.
We have a relationship - friendship, acquaintanceship, partnership, mentorship, whatever. This is a third thing.
When I hurt someone, intentionally or unintentionally, knowingly or unknowingly, I not only damage the other person, but I also damage this third being - the relationship.
It's on me to give a good apology - saying I'm sorry, listening deeply to the damage I may have cause, asking what I can do to make it better, and trusting the person to do what they need to do to take care of themselves.
By giving a good apology I attend to two things - the feelings of the person and the relationship.
Because I believe forgiveness is an inside job, I trust that each individual will do, say, ask for, whatever they need to get past whatever has happened. But the relationship, this third being, doesn't have voice or body or physical manifestation. I must attend to it if I want that relationship to last.
I also should say that I hold myself to pretty high standards. I believe in acting honorably and with integrity. I believe in kindness. I understand the wealth that I've been given and am generous in turn. I strive very hard to maintain my relationships and only let them go when it's absolutely necessary.
And still, I hurt people. I think it's human nature.
So I apologize easily; forgive internally; and love well.
I'm sure this is as clear as mud. Feel free to ask as your questions also help me clarify my thoughts.
In celebration of earth day, my friend Julie Stowasser sent me these videos. The videos include stop motion footage of the 'Northern Lights' from last year. They are incredibly beautiful with gorgeous music. If there are words that can describe how beautiful these videos are, I don't know them. (Both are about six minutes long.)
If you don't have time now, book mark them. They are too beautiful to miss.
Ok, I'm still sick, so bear with me. I think I was hoping Deepak Chopra would explain what I meant so I wouldn't have to. Then I saw my friend Mark's comment and realized I didn't do that great of a job. So here goes again:
To my mind, forgiveness is the same as judgment.
In order to forgive someone, I must first assign them negative intention, causality, function and purpose. I must believe that what they did was wrong. And trust me, I can take the injustice train and ride it all the way to righteous indignation island.
But when I'm in my right mind, I believe that we do the best that we can do in ever given moment. I believe life happens because it does. I don't believe in a fixed future or destiny. But I do believe in a fixed past. The past is over and cannot be changed.
Thus, to forgive someone is to judge what they did as bad or wrong. When truth be told, they did what they did because that's what they did. Their action is neither good nor bad nor indifferent. It was what made sense to them at the time.
Did it hurt me? Sure. That's the work I need to do with myself. I need to grieve, wallow even. I need to work through my pain and indignation. I need to rage, write, and feel all that I feel. I need to let the relationship die inside me so it can either be reborn or go into compost to fuel other healthier relationships.
In short, I need to learn my lessons. In time, I realize that I was blessed by the people who hurt me because they went out of their way to teach me a lesson I needed to learn.
But it's not up to me to judge (and thus forgive) another person. I'm not saying it's easy not to judge. I'm not saying I'm able to pull that off all the time. We live in a highly judgmental culture. Everything that's said or worn or done is judged. But I was not put on this planet to judge.
I was put on this planet to be the best person I know how to be. I was put here to live life to its fullest, to breathe in and out until I cannot breathe any longer.
I am here to shine my light. I am here to write stories to the best of my ability. I am here to encourage people, to remind them of their resilience, to shine a light on their strength, to bring joy.
I am not here to judge life or others. Thus I am not here to forgive or, quite possibly, be forgiven.
(The maintenance of relationships - apologizing to another for hurting them - is a whole other story. Maybe tomorrow?)
I'm not a huge fan of press to forgive everyone. Personally, I think the work is to forgive ourselves and we have no right to judge and/or forgive another. That's their work.
Why should I forgive someone who is unrepentant and continues to be abusive? That's just dumb. They do what they do; they get to live with the consequences of their behavior. That's the natural, logical consequence of living this life.
I think it's healthy to accept that things happened to you. I think it's good to work through your strong feelings around those events. I strive to understand the place that someone's coming from when they behaved badly.
But forgiveness? I just don't think it's my job to forgive someone else for what they do. I can only work to forgive myself and let them live out their lives.
If someone asks for my forgiveness, that's a whole other story. This is gesture made to repair a relationship gone awry. I'm happy to engage in the hard work of relating.
Oprah is hot on the forgiveness topic. She's talked to a lot of experts about forgiving this person. In her current life class, she spoke with Bishop T.D. Jakes. I really liked what he said.
I thought you might too.
P.S. I'm still pretty sick - thanks for all your well wishes! :)
P.P.S. Ok, Deepak Chopra says it better than I did in this clip:
I don't get sick very often. In fact, no matter what the disease, I don't seem to catch it regardless of what I come in contact with. For example, the husband had H1N1 that he caught in Mexico early on in the "crisis". He was incredibly sick, but I didn't catch a thing.
And then, once a year or so, often around this time of year, I catch a stomach flu.
Suffice it to say, I'm not a very great patient. I hate laying down and it causes my back to hurt. I don't enjoy naps. I get feisty if I have to stay still too long. (Except that time I had Norovirus. Oh my God. That's like a train that runs through you. I couldn't answer the phone let alone move.)
I'd planned to talk to you about control today, but I'm in the midst of my own mini-control drama.
I have to throw up!
I hate throwing up!
I won't throw up!
I have to throw up!
Yes, this is my day today. I'll be better tomorrow.
Claudia is the author of the Alex the Fey thriller series, the sweet and crunchy long running serial fiction, Denver Cereal, the Seth and Ava Mysteries, Suffer a Witch the intense, page turning story about the Salem Witches, and the Queen of Cool, a heart wrenching mystery set in Ft. Worth, Texas.
