Since this is my second blog in a row responding to how Donald Miller's blog impacts me/causes me to think, I kind of feel like a sham. I should probably have my own ideas about what to write...I wish I had all my own ideas about what to write sometimes, but the truth is, for the time being, I'm ok with responding to the thoughts of others. It's where I'm at, and I think that it's better to be there than to NOT be thinking about life and where I'm going. Having said that...
Miller's blog today suggested that we think about our lives as narratives. Instead of merely setting goals, he offered the idea of "writing our stories." To write our story, we decide on the end result, work our way backward, and write each scene that will lead us to the end scene. This got me thinking...
Am I being intentional when I write my story? Is my story one that is worth telling...reading...living? It's an evaluation that isn't comfortable to make because honestly, I don't think it is worth telling, at least not yet. So, what do I have to change? What's the next chapter? How am I going to intentionally make my story worth reading? Worth living?
My first end scene? Co-own a successful graphic design business. Follow this new passion I've found. I have friends who LOVE their jobs. One of my best friends is an RN and runs an orthopedic pediatrician's practice; she loves her job. Yes, she gets stressed, and yes, she has rough, frustrating moments, but at the end of the day, she gets lost in her work and loves it. I want that, and I find it when I'm designing invitations, logos, and accessories. My creative juices get flowing, and I feel like I can breathe again. So that's my first end scene. I'm still working out the initial scenes to get there, but I know they're there. I just have to write those scenes, and I will. They will be written.
My next end scene? Lose this "last" 20 lbs. (I use quotes because truly, I could decide that I need to lose more, but I'll reassess after this next 20.) From the ages of 8-20 I was the fat kid/girl. It's easier to admit now that many of my peers packed on the pounds I always seemed to have, and I'm now referred to as "average," but the truth is, there's a fat little girl inside me who would like to be thin. I'll even settle for thin-ish at this point, but it's got to happen. I'm working on writing those scenes right now. 3 weeks ago the number was 28 lbs. We'll see where the next scene takes me, but at the end of this chapter, I'll be there minus 20 lbs.
The last scene that I plan on writing in the near future is the motherhood one. The paradox is that I know this is the easiest one to accomplish (let's be honest, how many pregnant students have I had in my classes?) (FYI: That last side note caused me to knock on wood because there's a part of me that's terrified that it won't be easy, and that scares me. To. Death.) The paradox is that while this may be the easiest end to get to, I know that motherhood is not going to be easy. I'm ridiculously terrified that I'll suck at it, mess our children up, and have them grow up to hate/resent me. I know that this is the story I have the least control over, but it kind of makes it the most exciting.
The reader in me knows that three chapters isn't all that much, but the writer in me is often lost at where to begin. I guess it's time to start asking, "What if?" I think it's the only way to avoid writer's block.