Call Me By My True Names

Paula works, too.

I’m big on love in all its forms. It’s my guiding light and reason for being. This doesn’t mean I’m always loving, only that I strive to be that way.

My Thinking and Writing Style

On the Playground

What I most enjoy is hanging out in the gray areas of life. I mean those juicy places where different spheres of thought intersect in potentially exciting ways.

Let me give you a couple of examples from my days as an educator. I once mentored a master’s student who used her background in music to create a pronunciation lesson. The class (university-level English language learners) was preparing poetry presentations, and she taught them how to score their poems using musical notation. Students had fun and gave powerful recitations.

Another time, as a master’s student myself, I taught irregular French verbs using a fairy tale. I developed materials to guide students in retelling the story using the verbs they needed to learn.

These days, as a writer, I still find it thrilling to explore the gray areas. For me, these areas represent a playground teeming with connections and possibilities. Sometimes, I tend to linger on the playground a little too long. I thrive on divergent and lateral thinking but can feel daunted by the work required to make ideas converge on a point. Several drafts later, I usually get there.

Regulate, Regulate, Regulate

As a writer, I’m noticing a need to develop better cognitive and emotional self-regulation. My vital writing zone is not a place I’ve learned to enter at will. Inspiration and flow zoom in and out like the sun on some days.

I remember reading Mary Oliver’s thoughts years ago about establishing a regular writing schedule. She uses a Shakespearean metaphor as a vehicle for her advice. She likens the poet to Romeo, inspiration to Juliette, and their rendezvous points as the fertile ground where poems are born. Exciting things happen only if the lovers keep their promises to meet. I need to develop a writing schedule.

If you’ve never read A Poetry Handbook, you can read the excerpt I’m referring to here (pp. 7–8).

Stepping out of the zone — away from my computer — is also a problem. When I do buckle down to writing, it’s hard to stop. I feel like someone with a gambling addiction who can’t leave the poker table.

And there is always so much to cut. In my SFDs, I tend to repeat myself because I keep finding better ways to word my thoughts. Then it’s painful to decide which phrasing to cut. Each iteration expresses a particular nuance, like different shades of a single color. They all seem important, but I know the reader doesn’t need that much information.

Depression and Finding Vitality in Uncertainty

I have used writing as therapy since childhood, and when it came time to earn money, it also played a central role in my professional life. Now that I’m retired, I am developing a written voice that resides midway between the ultra-personal and the academic. My greatest wish is to shine as a writer capable of making personal experience engaging and useful for readers.

Journal writing has helped me sort a few things out, especially depression, which I have struggled with for years. I agree with Andrew Solomon’s observation that “The opposite of depression is not happiness, but vitality.” So true.

I have discovered vitality in the most unlikely of mind states, namely, uncertainty. Learning to tolerate it well, and even with an attitude of openness and excitement, relates to that gray area I mentioned a few paragraphs ago, but it requires more self-awareness and patience. The key is to abide in uncertainty while remaining open in heart and mind. I’m even learning to enjoy uncertainty, to the extent that it’s possible. Didn’t Peter Gabriel say this years ago?

“It’s only in uncertainty that we’re naked and alive.”

I always loved that line, but it’s taken decades to live it. I’m much closer now.

Two favorite poems that express the extraordinary aliveness at the heart of not knowing are “Against Certainty” by Jane Hirschfield and “Lost” by David Wagoner.

How I Spend My Days

My husband and I live in a cabin in the mountains of Southern California. One of my favorite activities is walking in the mountains while listening to audiobooks. We live at an altitude of over 6,000 feet, so we experience four seasons. But even in winter, the beach is under two hours away. After living in Minnesota for 20 years, that feels like a great luxury. It’s also a gift to be living closer to family (finally) and the ocean.

Each morning, I tune in to one or two guided meditations on Insight Timer before getting out of bed. I recommend the Mindful Mornings Challenge and The Daily Insight. For more about IT, have a look at my first article on Medium:

Before I go, Meet One of My Heroes

Mindful living is my primary focus as a freelance writer, and Thich Nhat Hanh is one of my favorite mindfulness teachers. The title of this article is borrowed from a famous poem of his, which Joan Borysenko calls “a container for duality,” and it is indeed. (Borysenko’s reading and interpretive comments are part of a collection of readings that accompany Kim Rosen’s book Saved by a Poem.) You might also enjoy Oprah’s interview with him on an episode of Super Soul Sunday.

I am delighted to be writing for Illumination and look forward to meeting you as we create and publish together. Thanks for reading.