I am busy. On any given day, I can make a list of what I’ve accomplished. Of course, none of these checklist items are going to make a global impact, but I know these actions are important to my own household economy. Take yesterday for instance, I did the following: 1) paid bills; 2) got groceries; 3) dropped off and picked up my daughter at summer camp; and 4) other essential, but nonsensical activities that are required to parent a child, like answering a thousand different questions that begin with the word Momma.
The point of this list is not to inundate you boring details, but to demonstrate that I am moving, much like the spokes of a windmill. Sometimes I move in circles, busying myself with details, which leads me to question what real energy I am really producing. Energy that really matters.
It was easier to identify this energy as a lawyer. I would prepare an argument, present it to the judge, and either win or lose the motion. The energy came in the form of a win, a paycheck, praise from the client and my boss, and it felt good, a stroke to my ego. There was something so tangible about the practicing law.
When I compare my former life to motherhood and writing, I am not certain what I am actually producing. Motherhood is all about tangible actions, things that you do to help your child, but there are no guarantees. I hope all the moving that I do now for my daughter on the behalf of her, will help her in becoming a well-adjusted person in this world. But I don’t know that, not right now. In that way, motherhood is all about moving, but the energy that comes from it, I can’t see it right now.
In the same vain, I write and then I delete. I write again. I write ten pages in my novel. It gets critiqued and then I start all over again, moving forward and backward all at the same time. As I write, I want my prose to elevate, to move, and to create an energy that will effect others. But I can’t know it until I write and finish my manuscript.
I am chasing energy and the end goal, I realize, but perhaps I should put more faith in my own actions. That’s what does the real moving.
__________________________________________________________________________________________
In what way do you participate in the chase? Do you always need to see your end goal to deem it worthwhile? Do you put more faith in the moving? Do you think about the energy you are producing?
Welcome! I am a lawyer turned freelance writer, essayist, and editor. On staff at Literary Mama and the co-founder and co-editor of the literary journal, The Sunlight Press, my essays and reported work have appeared in The Washington Post, The Lily, Saveur, Civil Eats, Brain, Child, ESPN and elsewhere. I am currently at work on a memoir on grief and culture and how it provides perspective on life’s ordinary graces. I invite you to appreciate the ordinary with me. I hope my daily practice of seeing the magic in the mundane helps you celebrate and find more of these moments in your life too.
The energy we produce (negative or positive) whether or not it seems productive affects everyone we come in contact with. I think I actions are far more productive and reaching than we give ourselves credit for.
Ugh. Writing. I love it and I hate it. Right now I am going through the “delete and hate” phase. It really is hard! If it weren’t for my critique group (and our deadlines) I think I would have already given up.
When I think about why I am writing my book, I don’t really think about the end product. Right now I am writing because there is a story that is wanting to be released, a story that won’t let me sleep at night. Yet, I don’t know if I will ever have it published, but I am still writing. I believe I get my energy when watching my children. I want them to pursue their dreams even when they don’t think anything will come of it.
I have a little something for you on my blog. ; )
I have so much to say to this post as so much of it resonates with me – the comparison of parenthood to tasks that yield tangible results, even praise, an inclination to write and delete and re-write and losing faith in our own actions, compromising our own forward momentum…
Perhaps if we focus half that energy that we use to worry, doubt and lament on the things that would propel us confidently ahead instead, we may actually get to where we would like to be a little quicker. But then again, as with most things, it’s easier said than done isn’t it?
p.s. interesting that you used the wind farm imagery here – my post today associates this with our ancestry 🙂
I can relate to you in that matter when it comes to my art. Its about the process than the end product for me. The amount of energy we use through out the process is far more enjoyable to me than the end product it self. It is the energy you share with that piece that no one knows how to feel it.
I think this was one of the hardest things for me to adjust to about being a mom….. I feel like I’m continually giving out energy and time and emotions and effort, but there’s not any tangible expression of those things (aside from messy high chairs and messier diapers). My daughter continues to grow and develop, but on a day to day basis, it’s hard to see progress or know that anything I”m doing is having an effect. There’s no progress report or annual review or memo from the boss or profit sharing letting me know that I’m doing a good job. But then just when I think the day will never end, a whole month has passed and she’s doing something new and amazing and I realize that it’s all worth it to have the honor of helping this little person discover herself and the world.
I think being Type A personalities/lawyers, we are used to seeing the end goal fairly quickly. Like you said, we argue a motion, we (typically) get an immediate ruling; we participate in a mediation, we (typically) find out by the end of the day if the matter is resolved. That has to make for a difficult transition into the life of being a mother (not that I would personally know). You are doing all of these things for her – disciplining, teaching, modeling, etc. – hoping that one day it will make her into a wonderful, intelligent, well-balanced adult. But I think you can at least see small goals along the way of your parenting efforts – does she seem happy? Is she making friends? Is she learning things? Those are all things attributable to your parenting – tangible results you should be able to see on a daily basis.
There is so much in this I identify with. It’s really (really) hard to keep going when we often don’t actually seem to be moving anywhere. Or accomplishing anything. I mean, we KNOW that we are investing in something long-term. Something bigger and better than we can even dream from where we’re standing. But sometimes long-term is hard to identify with.
How wholeheartedly I understand and agree with this post! Sometimes I go through a whole day feeling worn down because I’m doing so much, and then at night when my husband gets home he looks around and asks, “what did you do today?” And there is no real way to show him. He doesn’t say it to be mean, or to insinuate that I wasn’t doing anything, but it’s hard to point out all those little motherly things we do during each and every day. Just like there’s no set rules to parenting, there is also no tangible evidence of its pursuit.
Rudri, I enjoyed your post as usual. I definitely relate to the need for validation that all the work I’m doing is having a positive impact on my children. With my child with autism, I feel this two-fold since his apparent progress can quickly disappear when he goes through periods of regression. For me, progress is watching my children reach their developmental milestones and waiting to see if the progress sticks. My gratification at seeing improvement is cautious at first because I know I can’t trust that my son won’t regress. Once progress seems to have been established (weeks/months later), then I can relax but by then I’m usually focusing on whatever milestone we’re behind on and doing the one step forward, two steps back dance and barely acknowledging what progress he has actually made. I try though because, otherwise, I’d lose my marbles. 🙂 Thanks for the post. It gave me a good reason to reflect on things.
First things first – no, you cannot know that all you do now for your daughter will help her become a well adjusted person, there are no motherhood guarantees of this. But know that it you do not do all that you do there is a far stronger likelihood that she will not do so well. So there is your objective and reason for all you do for and with her. You are showing true compassion for your child.
With regards to your writing, you need to show that same love and compassion for yourself, have faith and believe that you can achieve your goals also.
This moving in circles is a wonderful analogy for parenting, and specifically, mothering. We are the engines that fuel the sustenance of a household infrastructure. We are the energy tapped for all manner of questions, emotions, and logistical details for our children. I believe it feels like we’re spinning in place, but we’re igniting the advancing of others. A place of frustration (for us), but not unimportant.
When I feel like I’m going in circles, I try to picture spirals instead. Spirals trace the same motion, and yet they advance, in a way that the trajectory takes a tour through a broader landscape than a simple line segment.
Imagining this looping manner of movement is helpful – especially for those of us who need sensation and detail and examination to fill our creative tanks.
As for chasing one’s tail (with writing), I feel like this is the story of my life – if there is one thematic arc since childhood – with everything and everyone else taking precedence as I shelved my writing time and time again. I can only hope that as the role of energy source (to everyone else) wanes, I will have increasing time for my writing, and perhaps without those years of experience, the tales I would have to tell would be of less interest.
One more note – years ago I would show my writing at various stages to others in a group, for critique. I found that it was counterproductive, being reviewed in its toddlerhood, rather than at a stage in which more could be discerned. The result was that I stopped writing (for a time), convinced I had no talent. That I was spinning my wheels (and not in a spiral).
Think about the timing of when you should critique (or not), and also, the value in just letting words flow – expecting little of them in raw draft, and knowing they need the same sort of time and nurturing as a child. Often, years, before we see the results.
I just saw those windmills the other day on our trip to Palm Springs. But I didn’t feel like one of them then – but now I will think of your analogy next time! 😉
Ah, writing. Write like no one’s reading. And then when you’ve completed your story, then let others read and critique. You wouldn’t want someone to draw conclusions on what your child will be as a grownup by what they see when she’s a toddler.
What a poignant analogy. I love this. And I love when you closed with, “I should put more faith in my own actions. That’s what does the real moving.” So very, very wise. And so very, very true!
I love the phrase “chasing energy.” And what a great suggestion from BLW–to think of spirals instead of going in circles!
Sometimes I feel like I’m making progress, but in the grand scheme of things, I’m not even sure I know what progress looks like, not really. I guess I’ll know it when I see the end results?…
🙂
It is hard justifying/explaining how all of the energy exerted is actually producing something. I struggle with it constantly. But you’re right….we just need to act with more faith in our actions.
I shook my head while reading this post. How eloquent, how precise, how perfect. I work every day. I check items off both my professional and personal to do list. Some days it feels like I’m moving forward. Some days it feels like I’ve barely treading water. But finding the perspective that it is all meaningful and important in it’s own way is so critical, and not always easy.
I think that’s what I like about writing so much. It’s basically all on my own schedule, to satisfy only my own needs, and provides a profound sense of accomplishment. I’m not writing a book, nor do I ever plan to. But each time I write a blog post, or even begin to formulate one in my mind, it feels good. It feels like I’m moving forward.
Thanks for this post. I really, really enjoyed it.