That Middle Part

Mondays, between work and my sketch class, are the perfect time for blogging. It would be a waste of time to travel home and then back again, so I kill time at my desk, and maybe walking to class in a slow, roundabout way.

So, here's how the whole Nov. 4 prayer thing is going: I'm in that middle place that I thought I might end up in. The long stretch of highway on a road trip. The initial excitement has waned, and the end is still far enough away that I'm not too worried about it yet. Just over four months left. I know the kinds of changes I'm hoping for happen all the time, but they don't always happen to me. They seem huge, like asking to win $20 million in the lottery, or for snow on a particular day in July. Part of me has, almost against my will, already prepared for nothing to be different come Nov. 4. Which is why this whole thing is bigger than me. It can't just come down to my effort, my faith, my whatever.

Well, we're almost in July. So come on, Snow, come to mama.

Master Thespian

I had my first acting class Friday. It's very small -- only four students were there, all women. There's a chance of a fifth student -- a 25% increase in population! -- but we'd still be small. Fine with me. That means more attention and chances to try things and try them again, and that's perhaps what I need more than anything: experience.

The other women have done more theater in the past than I have, which is my solace as I consider how well they did, compared to my beginner performance. I committed one of the acting sins which I most abhor in others: I didn't enunciate enough to be clear! In an effort to be authentic instead of stagey, my words didn't come across. Noooooooo!

But it was only my first class, so it was unrealistic of me to think I'd be on par with Ian McKellan. And I'm there to learn, not to be perfect, as much as my pride wishes I were, and as close as I may be in every other area ;-).

Some Things I May Choose Not to Think About

Since thinking about them endlessly has only led to thinking about them endlessly.

-- How to forgive people, and all the intricacies thereof. I've chosen to forgive countless times, but I'm quite fuzzy on what forgiveness is, exactly. I'm just pretty sure I haven't done it. But thinking about it usually involves thinking about what they did that I need to forgive, and that stirs up my desire for justice rather than an impulse toward mercy and charity.

-- Whether my Nov. 4 prayers will be answered, and my participation in those answers. I get all tense and angsty. And worried. And then I brace for disappointment. But really, if it all comes down to me learning to be myself and having life flow from that, then it won't be so much about me trying to Be Good, or be good at something, or Be Something. Try? There is no "try." Only do. Y'all can let me know if I got that Yoda quote right.

-- Whether my risks will pan out. I can't know what response I'll get to the assignments I'll write for my sketch comedy class, or whether I'll the positions I audition for, or whether guys will ask me out after I talk to them at parties. I tend to feel like it's the responsible thing to be hugely invested in every little thing I try, but that puts a lot of pressure on each of those little things.

OK, gotta run! Even if I hold it lightly, there's no need to be late for that sketch class!

Ah, the Heady (or Not) Days of the Brain Fast...

A night or two ago, I found myself waxing wistful for the Lenten Brain Fast I did a little over a year ago. It was such a hopeful time, where I wasn't worried because I didn't allow myself to dwell on worrisome things. I wasn't discouraged, because I didn't allow myself to dwell on discouraging things. I wasn't consumed with endless negative what-ifs, because that would have involved thinking, and I was fasting from that.

[Disclaimer: Most folks who know me will agree that a brain fast was a good idea, and that if anyone ever needed to think less, 'tis I. But for anyone who reflexively gets concerned, let me assure you that making rash, life-destroying decisions was not even a remote danger for me. Even without all the thinking, I still had sense.]

I'm not sure how to describe the time since that fast ended. Do I think less than I did before the fast? I'm not sure. I think I learned a valuable skill, but one of the reasons I was able to do it wholeheartedly was that I knew there was a time limit. What if I were to live the rest of my life that way? It might turn out to be a good thing, but it's a far bigger risk than 40 days.

Here I am, though, thinking about it again. I wonder if it would suit me now, as I live with my Nov. 4 prayer and it's fraternal twin, the summer 40 Days of Faith prayer. If one of my big goals is to learn to enjoy myself, and in order to enjoy myself I need to live in the moment, and if I wouldn't be able to enjoy other answered prayers without these abilities, then thinking less might once again be just what the doctor ordered.

I'll have to think about that ;-).

Chill, Baby, Chill

I had my first comedy sketch-writing class on Monday, and I could feel all the old things coming up from improv -- wanting to get laughs, wanting to be good at this, feeling like there's only so much success to go around and I have to be better than everyone else.

You can guess how much fun that was.

So I think my goal for this class will be, as much as possible, to take a step back, relax, and try to just enjoy it. Try to enjoy the assignments, instead of trying to anticipate every possible criticism and account for it. Try to listen to other people's ideas and what the teacher has to say, instead of being all inside my head, thinking about what I'll say when it's my turn.

Trying to let this class just be whatever it is, and let myself be myself, instead of hoping, hoping, hoping it will all lead somewhere bigger.

Much easier said than done.

Stop This Brain, I Want to Get Off

Anyone who's known me for seven minutes or more will know that I have a tendency to over-think, and often to over-over-over-over-think. And it happens almost before I can stop it. Example: I get out the Cray-Pas to do my daily scribbling, and I pick a few colors I like. Before one of them even touches the paper, my mind will go through the following gymnastics: Have I already set a rule by choosing these colors? Should I try to avoid making lines to color within? Am I unnecessarily restricting myself in the opposite direction by trying NOT to draw lines? Would I be able to counteract all this planning and control by using my left hand instead of my right? Now that I've started drawing one set of lines, do I stick with it?

All this takes place within a second or two, much less time than it took to type it out just now.

I've learned to ignore my own thoughts in these instances, but I have to be careful that they don't lurk beneath the surface, making me unhappy for reasons I can't pinpoint. That happens a lot.

I also notice that I make assumptions about everything being my fault (which would mean that somehow everything ought to be under my control). I've had a lazy day so far today, and I took a nap just because I felt like it. I woke up with a headache, and immediately felt guilty, because somewhere in my head I assumed that I wouldn't have a headache unless I'd made a bad choice -- oversleeping, undersleeping, eating poorly, eating too little, whatever. You may remember that I've had headaches pretty regularly throughout my life, so you can imagine how many opportunities I've had to feel guilty without even realizing that it may be groundless.

It's been a long process of noticing these goings-on within myself, and realizing that it doesn't have to be this way. (The brain fast I did last year was great for this.) It makes sense that recognizing unhelpful assumptions and over-thinking for what they are would be a big part of learning to live in the moment and enjoy life a lot more.

At the same time, I'm practicing not apologizing for who I am, even if it's hard to understand or annoying. The little hamster in my head, who spends so much time running on his wheel, is what makes me a writer, and I'm hoping that as I write about all this stuff, it'll be helpful to somebody. For all the folks who read it and think, I don't relate to that at all, but I'm glad I'm not you, perhaps there'll be someone else who says, Have you been transcribing my diary?

So, fellow over-thinker, at least you know you're not alone. Spend a few pleasant minutes thinking about that, if you like :-)

Permission to Speak Freely, Sir?

One of my big fears, for years, has been that I won't speak up when it's necessary. That I'll be one of those good people who remains silent, thus allowing evil to prevail. I've always been shy, and don't like conflict, and up until a terrible event forced me to rethink the issue, I assumed other people knew what they were talking about more than I did. Speaking up for myself was hardest of all.

I've been having to get over that, largely for my own sanity. When other people make terrible assumptions about me that become terrible accusations, I need to know for myself that they aren't true. I'm getting better at that.

I was also intimidated by verses like the following, from Psalm 40:
⁹ I have told all your people about your justice.
I have not been afraid to speak out,
as you, O Lord, well know.
¹⁰ I have not kept the good news of your justice hidden in my heart;
I have talked about your faithfulness and saving power.
I have told everyone in the great assembly
of your unfailing love and faithfulness.

With all this blogging about my recent prayers, and the way I'm telling people about it in conversation, I feel like I am speaking up. And I'm excited, because I'm doing it during the process and the waiting and the uncertainty, so everybody can see it for what it really is, and not some polished version at the end.

I don't know how things will play out. But I keep coming back to the feeling that I've done a good thing just by asking.

Doubling Down

Most years, during the season that more traditional churches call Lent, my church does something called "40 Days of Faith." There are several components to it, including the opportunity to pray for others more, and to fast. Because of my history with legalism, I choose to focus more on the part where we're supposed to ask God for something really, really big for ourselves -- scary in both its boldness and apparent selfishness. We're encouraged to ask not just for something surface-y -- e. g., "I want a spouse" -- but for the need behind the need -- e.g., "I want to love and be loved in the context of meaningful and intimate relationships."

This year, I prayed for the ability/capacity/grace to enjoy myself. This does not come naturally to me. I think a lot about the past and the future, and find it hard to live in the moment. When I do think about the moment at hand, I'm often analyzing it rather than enjoying it. And what is there to enjoy, really, when you're not enjoying the present? What good will it do me to get everything else I've ever imagined wanting -- husband, career, ancient castle with modern plumbing -- if I'm not able to enjoy it when I have it? So that's what I asked for. Not concrete, but rather practical, I think.

Since then, as you know if you've been reading, I prayed a more concrete prayer: That God would bring the big changes I've been waiting for in both the career and romance departments by Nov. 4 of this year. Still not uber-specific, as those changes could take any number of forms, though I'm also praying that I'll be able to recognize and enjoy them when they get here. The date is darn specific, though.

I now have another dimension to add to the mix. Last week, I discovered that a writer whose blog I read, Trish Ryan (http://trishryanonline.blogspot.com/), has been leading her own online 40 Days of Faith for the past couple of summers (http://fortydaysoffaith.blogspot.com/2010/05/40-days-of-faith-2010.html). I decided to be obnoxiously bold and join in. I prayed a big 40 Days prayer earlier this year, I prayed the Nov. 4 prayer, and now I'm doing another 40 Days -- who the heck do I think I am? I'm somebody who's had enough experience being meek and unassuming and is trying shamelessness instead. I'm betting that God can handle it. It's not like He doesn't know what I want anyway.

My new 40 Days prayer is similar to my Nov. 4 prayer, but the specifics shift to the other foot. What I'm asking for is more defined -- a husband, and a job that I love so much that I practically run/skip to work every day -- but without the Nov. 4 deadline. (Good heavens, I'm not even dating anybody -- I do NOT want to be married by Nov. 4!) And I'm doing the fasting part this time... sort of. Instead of abstaining from something (food, TV, alcohol, swearing), I'm adding something on: Scribbling! I bought some oil pastels and a blank pad, and the plan is to draw/scribble every day, to get myself out of my heady, verbal world, and be messy and free and color outside the lines, literally and figuratively. It's an interesting discipline for someone like me, who, when presented with a blank piece of paper, will usually draw lines of my own before coloring them in with precision. That's gotta be a massive window into my psyche, right there.

These latest prayers are risky, because I'm investing a lot in them. I'm investing time, effort, and money, as I head into the classes I've recently joined. I'm investing my heart and my hope, as I allow myself to ask and keep asking. I'm investing my reputation and my pride, as I tell everybody and their uncle about what I'm doing. Eek. EEK!

But I'm not apologizing.