Tag: creativity

Powering Down

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I can’t get my kids to unhook both of their ear buds. When I come home from work and they’re lounging on the couch, I ask them about their day and they unhook one bud. They’re, literally, half listening and half answering.

If I reach over and pull out the other ear bud, they scream, “You’re abusing me. I’m calling Child Services.” (They love to joke like that.)

I feel like putting in my own ear buds. In my ear, I will arrange for a preteen to whisper, “You’re such a good mother. Thank you for caring about me. Thank you for working every day. Thank you for your kindnesses and humor. Now, mother, I will go make dinner for the family. And I will set the table.” Sure, it sounds robotic and saccharine. So? What’s wrong with that?

I like having and giving my full attention. I like giving and receiving household help.

I ask for help getting dinner. No one answers. They are bopping their heads to invisible music or smiling as they look at the small screen in their hands.

At least, when family dinner is on the table and we are seated together about to say grace, they are fully present. No, wait, why is my son smiling at his lap and why is his lap buzzing and glowing? That little brat! Give me that! (I take his iPhone.)

I am writing this on our vacay on the West Coast of Florida by the pool. At this moment, I don’t really care that no one listens to me. I’m not listening either. I hear only the gentle splashing sound of the fake waterfall by secluded swimming pool. Life is good. Tune out. Power down.

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Right outside my office, there was an empty cubicle and right next to the empty cube was P’s desk which overflowed with papers and magazines. I told P. that she and I should both ask management to break down that wall and enlarge her space into the empty cube. We did and now there’s one large cube.

I like encouraging people and being encouraged to learn, grow, and get bigger. Not everyone does this. I think sometimes people might feel like enlarging someone else’s space might diminish their own. But admiring and enlarging others makes us bigger too.

I love the way Vincent Van Gogh wrote in his letters to Theo about his admiration for his contemporaries. He admired religion, Japanese art, other artists.

“If I love someone or something, then I do so in earnest and sometimes with real passion and fire, but that doesn’t make me think as a matter of course that only a few people are perfect and all the others worthless — far from it.”

More inspiring quotes from Vincent van Gogh:

“There is nothing more truly artistic than to love people.”

“I always think that the best way to know God is to love many things.”

And in his letters, Vincent advised his brother, Theo, over and over, to “admire.” For me, that means to enlarge others. I look for the good in everyone and try to get them more space.

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Marriage and Work

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While my husband has been away for a month, I’ve been extremely productive — embarking on a new job; completing writing and art projects; making new parenting connections. I wonder if my productivity has anything to do with being single, even briefly.

Was thinking about this when I took a walk in Riverside Park at lunch time yesterday.

Is it possible that relationships — particularly marriages — take up energy that might be (better?) spent pursuing art?

In my Henry James class in college we talked about this a lot. James never married and was incredibly prolific — coincidence? James advocated substituting sexual desire with creativity. He thought marriage was deadly to artists, particularly writers.

I remember feeling this after I split up from my first husband (I always feel like Zsa Zsa Gabor when I refer to my “first” husband), I remember wondering then: ‘If I had not spent all this effort in my marriage, to what heights could I have climbed.’

No one argues that relationships take work, but once free of that work, even for a month, the possibilities for other creative and, let’s face it, better paying, work emerges.

Seeing My Life as an Adventure

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the view from my office

This year I will notice the sun. My life is enshrouded in office dullness. I want nothing more than light — the shine and vitamin D of the sun.

In my sadness, in my busyness, I rush by, failing to notice the sun, the sky, the birds, the laughter, the people.

The sun is now setting; the day is gone. I noticed in a meeting earlier today how everyone ducked their head into their laptops as if their computer screens were a shield, protecting them from what? Each other? Very few of us made eye contact.

New Year’s Resolution: I will notice the color of people’s eyes.

I will be a people person, not a screen person. I will listen more deeply.

I often have something to say; I open my mouth quite easily. There is hardly a topic that you can mention that I don’t know one fact or have one statistic about. I have an opinion on everything.

I do not know everything. There is wisdom in not knowing, in noticing. There is quiet. There can be lulls in conversations. Usually when there’s a void, I tend to jump in. I hate the chasm. Like in a Harry Potter movie, a wide open space must be jumped across. But what if the wide open space simply was a place to meander, to linger.

I am so tired of being the engine that makes every little thing go. “I can’t do it, I can’t do,” I sobbed the other night when I couldn’t sleep. Yes, literally sobbed. The worries of my day multiplied, work worries times Chris’s decline times the kids growing up.

But what if I just stood at the side of the chasm and did nothing? I could stand there like a spelunker at the side of a cave. I have loved a mystery, an adventure. What if — ah, this is good — I saw my life as a quest?

I saw myself as going after something — I am Dorothy in the land of Oz, trying to find her way home.

I open to the chasm. I walk the yellow brick road. I am an adventurer at a crossroads. I am looking this way and that. I am listening for clues. For the sound of a waterfall or the barking of my dog ToTo.

I am not alone, yet I must make my quest alone. And when I come out the other side of the chasm, I can look back and think, I have come far, I have crossed that. Or maybe I’ll just fall into the fiery pit and be burnt to a crisp. That, too, happens in an adventure story.

But to see life as a journey, as a quest, this is the path to follow.

Keep Practicing

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I love a daily discipline of writing. I loved doing NaNoWriMo in November. Writing is a solitary experience. So a shared blogging platform, like PostADay2011, made writing a communal experience in 2011

work in progress, my book for book of days

Today I signed up for 365 Grateful and Book of Days for 2012. I like a push, a reminder, shared misery, and shared joy.

I respond well to a gentle and encouraging nudge.

If I’m creative on a daily basis, then I have a vessel in which I can dump my creativity when something really cool pops into my head.

It’s good to keep practicing. Writing is a practice. I love that Buddhism is considered a practice, not a fixed religion. The practice of a religion or creativity is not idolizing an icon, but living creatively and staying open to the creative spirit.

Somewhere in my brain there’s a quote about the reason that firefighters shine the pole in the firehouse every day. It needs to be smooth for that one day a year when there’s actually a fire. That is why I write daily, for that one day a year. That”s why I practice.

Work with what I have

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So I love writing in my journal every day. And I love resolving to be better, love more deeply, have more compassion.

And today’s journaling reminded me that like a lot of people, I believe my answers are outside of me somewhere.

But wait. Happiness is an inside job. I have to find my way with what I’ve got — the people, the work, the home.

No team from The Learning Channel is going to swoop down and give me a make-over (new clothes, new apartment, new YOU!) I have to keep making my life new. And I have to use what I already have to do it. And what I have is good enough. What I have is good.

This journal entry is no big whoop. And I’m kinda goofing around with my new iPhone to see how it works to write with and on my smartphone.
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Learning Is Not Easy

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I found my kids’ classrooms and tried not to embarrass them by drawing attention to my enthusiasm for learning.

As reported in the Times magazine article (What if the Secret to Success is Failure? by Paul Tough), the head of school at Riverdale, Dominic Randolph, is passionate about developing character and resilience. On Parents’ Day, Randolph spoke about his passion for learning. Here are some of Randolph’s remarks and my responses:

1. Grammar, syntax — this skills are important. But more important is voice. Voice is mystical. “Finding voice and developing it is like tending to a campfire in the night; it is easily bulldozed.”

Love this. I can have skills but I need craft, which leads me to my unique voice. Craft only shows up when I write daily. Writing, like meditation, is a practice, not an achievement. Voice is difficult to attain and easily dismissed.

2. For skills and knowledge to stick — and our writing to be compelling, simple, elegant — we need emotion and story.

Humans are wired to love stories. There is something in our brain chemistry that begs for a beginning, middle and end. We are always in pursuit of closure and resolution to our stories, but we need and love the pursuit.

Love this picture of kids at Riverdale Country School. Getting out of the classroom and into the sunshine.

3. Learning is hard. We are all in it together. We need to coax and encourage one another to share our learning.

Yes, learning may seem to be a solitary endeavor, but humans are social animals. We need the camaraderie of a shared challenge or pursuit. Pursuing learning is innate, like hunting and gathering. 

4. Learning is experiential. So we move the science class to the bank of the Hudson River.

Get out of the dark interior of your thoughts, your classroom, your computer station; get into the realm of sunshine, river and mud. Invite your senses to partake in learning. Our minds will remember more when our bodies are engaged. 

 After hearing Randolph speak, I was inspired to unleash my enthusiasm for learning and creativity, even if this enthusiasm is a source of constant embarrassment to my kids.

Yesterday, I was inspired again at NYU alumni day, when I listened to John Sexton, president, talk about the city school, “in and of the city.” http://mybeautifulnewyork.wordpress.com/2011/09/24/nyus-john-sexton/

The Times article I referenced can be found at: http://www.nytimes.com/2011/09/18/magazine/what-if-the-secret-to-success-is-failure.html?pagewanted=all

The Westport Workshops

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Went well.

I love when people open up — give me stories about your divorce, depression, cancer treatment, or dysfunctional childhood. And then half-way through your writing, lay it on me about how you handled the whole thing with faith, resilience, humor, or alcohol.

Better yet, write about your most embarrassing moment — the time you felt so humiliated you thought you’d never crawl back into civilized company again. You’ve got an epic fail? You’ve got an epic tale.

The stories of our struggles are the ones that will get published, get a laugh, get a tear, get a friend to open up on her crappy/crazy/resilient/hopeful life.

I’m not saying we wrote about any of these things (Maybe we did, maybe we didn’t!) at the Westport Creative Writing workshops, which I offered the last three Saturdays of August 2011 at the Heritage House.

But even if we did, I wouldn’t tell you, because the rule in my writing classes is confidentiality.

I will tell you generally what we wrote about — in the first class, among other topics, we wrote about a safe place from our childhoods; the second class, we wrote about our mentors from high school; the third class, with Hurricane Irene on her way, we wrote about riding out a storm (literal or metaphorical).

At the first class, we had 6 people, then 3, and then at the last class, 8. Hooray! It felt great. There were so many brilliant writers with brilliant life stories. It was an honor to be a part of and facilitate a creative writing experience for non-writers and professionals alike.

I believe there is something healing and transformative about writing your life story. It is sometimes unbelievable, but never never dull.

I will offer these “Story of Your Life” workshops (inspired by Dan Wakefield’s book of the same name) again.

Creative Writing Prompts

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A colleague emailed me that she was feeling creative and wanted some writing prompts. Here are the two I sent her:

  1. Write about the last time you were really mad. After 10 minutes, stop, breathe. Now continue the story but make it funny.
  2. Write about one memory from a kitchen in your childhood. Be sure to include the smells.

There is something warming about memories of food and there is something healing about making an infuriating incident comical.

Once when I did this first writing exercise, I wrote about how a fellow drama student blamed me for our acting scene having gone awry. To add a funny twist I conjectured that she had a crush on our teacher and was just trying to ingratiate herself in his good opinion by dissing me. I don’t know if my take on the incident was true, but writing that scenario made me feel better.

Writing naturally makes you feel better and boosts the immune system. Lots of studies show that journal writing every day can improve your health. I don’t know why this is true but I believe it has something to do with our human need to see things anew.

And the human body is just wired to love and respond well to stories, even the stories we tell ourselves, which is why we dream.

I have been thinking about performing and teaching because  this morning I taught three one-hour classes at my son’s school. I taught, “Writing and Performing Comedy.” Almost all of my 60 or so students were 7th grade boys.

In their comic scenes, the boys often made choices that had to do with shooting one another and/or putting on funny accents. I tried to encourage them to see that humor has to do with being authentic and saying the thing that everyone thinks but no one says. Comedy is about getting to some truth. Sometimes saying the truthful thing with a funny accent works, but not usually.

I love teaching but after the morning session, I was exhausted. I don’t know how teachers do it day in and day out.

Wave Hill, a Treasure Box

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It’s a best-kept NYC secret, bustling with life. The bustling is done by the Cabbage White Butterflies who never got the memo that summer’s officially over now that school’s started. No, the butterflies don’t know. They flit in Riverdale on September 11th at Wave Hill, an easy-going, beautiful, educational, art/nature place.

All the things you love — art AND nature — wrapped into one FREE afternoon — Yes, free! The kids and I arrived at 11:55 am, just in time to discover that the center is free until noon on Saturdays. (Should I mention that the free morning is thanks to Target? Yes, I will because they also support the bustling hip, trendy MoMA Friday nights! Thanks, Target!)

The family art sessions are always fun. Always. I did wonder as we stepped into the big, dark cottage and saw all the toddlers and elementary school kids wielding glue sticks whether my three (freshly pressed) middle schoolers would still dig the magic of family art and the loose and loving guidance on some funky crafty nature project. But hooray, they still dug it! (H. did mention, “I never want to come back here in my entire life.” But rest assured, he’s big on hyperbole and I, who am also given to exaggeration, stayed strong. I replied, “We’re coming every Saturday for the rest of your life.”)

The first assignment for the family art session? Friendly and gorgeous Ilse instructed, “Take a walk around and collect dead nature specimens. Then, return to the cottage and make little accordion books that will fit neatly into your little decorated nature treasure boxes.”

I remembered around Thanksgiving one year at Wave Hill, we made corn husk dolls, taught by young Native Americans. Another time we looked at pictures of Matisse’s cut outs and tried to cut out flowers likewise.

The leader then was a lovely guy named Noah, who Ilse informed me retired in the Spring. He was always gentle and enthusiastic and welcoming. Ilse said, “I’ll send your regards to Noah.”

But I don’t think he specifically knew me or my kids. I think he was just one of those souls who treat everyone like a long-lost friend. (Any way, Thanks Noah!)

The new staff, Ilse, is, like Noah and wonderful Martha Borrero, who is still there, welcoming, glad to see you when you walk into the space.

As usual, we pushed the boundaries of time. Martha rang a bell to let us know that it was 1 pm and family art time was ending. We were still creating, gluing, drawing, cutting out shapes, filling our little nature boxes. We finally tore ourselves away.

We ate at the café outside. I love museum cafes. Museum cafes are a bit pricey but delicious. And eavesdropping is so much fun. The guy behind us was saying, “I have time. If I don’t find a girlfriend right now, it’s fine. I have to pay my bills, get out of debt, become more responsible.”

The kids talked about whether burning money is a federal crime. I don’t know. I don’t have all the answers. As my 4th grade teacher used to say, “What am I? A walking encyclopedia?”

We departed by way of the gift shop, where we bought local honey and honey sticks, the kids’ favorite sweet treat.

September 11th is a very tough day for people like me who love New York City. The reason we love and live in NYC is that there are magical gems throughout the city — places like Wave Hill, full of butterflies and breezes, views of the Palisades and the Hudson River. What’s not to love?

Next year’s 9/11, the 10th anniversary, is going to be hard. I’m already planning to take the kids to Wave Hill again. If you want to go with me, let me know.

http://www.wavehill.org/gardens/

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