The art of bargaining

Right now I am deep in essay writing territory.  For the last few weeks of semester I've been tallying the amount of words I need to write, the huge number that tells where I am at greater than saying 5 assignments.....four assignments....

More like 6500 words...5500 words....

At one point I was convinced I was going to have to ask for an extension on at least one essay.  I had two weeks and 6500 words to go.  With research.  Not possible.

More recalculating.  Then I figured it out.  I could do this.  I had plenty of time.  Then Boom!  Bam! Two assignments down, 2500 words spent, two essays to go at 3000 words total.  I've got this!

And then the research.  Then writing.  I told myself - 400 words a day, that's a great amount, leaves me plenty of time to polish and edit.  First day I wrote 300ish. 

So began the bargaining.  If I do this today, then tomorrow....still plenty of time...no time...calm down, plenty of time....

Of course what has actually happened is I spend so much time thinking about what I need to do, i.e. the number of words I need to write down, it blocks my concentration, making the research not sink in.  Cue more bargaining.

But I still have enough time.  6 days.  Two assignments.  2000 words.  We can do this, brain.  Calm down.

Labels

Labels. We sure like labels. You know what I mean? What we call ourselves and each other. I am a wife, a mother,  a student and a bucket load of other things. I am all of them, yet I am none of them. Why? Because they are just words, and words may label me but they don't define me. There aren't enough words and phrases to just sum me up in a nice neat little package. 

There is an amount of weight behind these labels, a value that we place on them. Being a mother is one thing, then there are stay at home mums and working mums. Each of these things has a different weight. They are valued differently depending on who you are talking to, the situation you are in. 

Why do we label?  In a way it helps us organise our little world, and that's not always a bad thing. It becomes a bad thing when we value labels differently, or less than we should. You're a stay at home mum? Don't you care about yourself/house/family enough to work? You're a working mum? Don't you car about you family/kids/house enough and stay at home to do everything?

See what I mean?

In the end the label doesn't really matter. We are all of the labels and none of the labels. Not words but people, and all of it counts.

All worked up

I've been feeling pretty worked up over the last week- I have essay deadlines looming and a brain that didn't really want to be productive. 

The bare minimum got me through without feeling like I'd done nothing, but left me feeling uneasy. So I calculated. I figured out an estimation of time for each essay, how many days left minus my lectures and I felt better. 

That was until I didn't. Feel better that is- I woke up two days ago with a cold. Gah! Amazingly day one and two were quite productive thanks to the reading is done last week (maybe it wasn't really bare minimum after all?) but today has been a big fat wipeout. No work was done due to feeling really crappy. 

So no the pressure is really on, but it leaves me with the question- which is better for my mental well being? 1) letting myself be sick in order to recuperate quicker, then work my fingers to the bone and my brain to breaking point to get an A. 2) work while sick so I don't feel 'behind' 3) be sick, and get what I can done, and if the mark is less than usual accept it and move on. 

I have no idea, but it is what it is- I like to get good marks...but...well I'll be okay either way, won't I?!

Wait, no overthinking?

Well, I'll be! I actually had a full weekend of no overthinking, I trust myself, I can do stuff thinking!

The liberation!

I spent the weekend at the Bendigo  Writers Festival, an amazing weekend of learning from talented successful people. And would you believe that I felt at home? Huh!

I am still buzzing from the advice, excitement, the learning and ideas. I felt like I had tapped into this piece of myself that I had forgotten was there.  I know it was always there because I recognised it like an old friend when I saw and felt it.

I had a number of moments of clarity, and an idea that formed. This idea is like the seed of a tree, only I don't know how large this tree will grow. I do know that the seed has been there for many years, and now the conditions are just right and it has germinated. In fact I can actually see it growing, poking up through the organic earth.  This seed wants to grow and grow, and I need to feed it. 

I can't wait to watch my tree grow, to see its beautiful form, it's textures and the sounds it makes, to see how large it grows, what the canopy looks like, whether it will have dappled light come through it, or be open to allow the full blazing sun.

My idea is already more than an idea, it is a being. It is. 

Photo: Sarah Fallon

When opportunity knocks...

That is the time for me to go into overdrive on the overthinking meltdowns.  Recently I was given the opportunity to get ahead in writing for a subject, which would be used by a festival for promotion on blogs and the like.  Exciting.  So off I went to arrange interviews for this writing.. And they all fell through.  I was a little frustrated, thinking that my opportunity to write, and contribute, was lost.

Then, the call came through, they've been busy, but they still want me, so hey girl, come to a meeting meet ALL the people, write an article.  For the local paper.  What an opportunity!  Write a real life article for real life print.  That people actually read.  This was even better than the original plan.  Sometimes things just work out, right?

So of course, the initial excitement wears off and I am left with the feelings.  Of doubt, of fear, of total freaking out.   Oh seriously, I have some stupid issues.  Don't get me wrong, I am grateful and still excited about this opportunity.  I will channel all these feelings, front up to this meeting and take it all in, and attempt to write the hell out of this article.  If people are going to be really seeing this little baby in their hands then I need to step up.  After all, how often does this kind of opportunity just fall into your lap?  People work their bums off for years to get published.

I'll let you know how I go, no doubt there is some more overthinking to be done twixt now and then, in the meantime this is my blog for the Bendigo Writers Festival that all this fuss is about, so check that out too. 

Falling into place

If there is one big lesson I have learnt as I age is that sometimes the pieces just fall into place. And sometimes your place changes, which is okay too. I am talking of that moment when you realise the here and now is exactly where you need to be, everything feels just right. I am experiencing that now and it feels fantastic. I love how, even though the here and now still has challenges, it still feels like it's right. 

I have been in the place where nothing seems to go as planned and there is a lingering feeling of...off kilter is probably the best way to describe it. That's the point where we make changes, make those decisions that have been sitting there in the back of your mind, in wait for bravery. For the pieces to fit. 

Sometimes it still doesn't work out, that's okay. I have a saying that you always make the right decision at the time. After all it often leads to the next big change, a decision made that leads to the puzzle working again. 

So if it doesn't feel right take a chance, make those scary decisions and you never know, things just may perfectly fall into place. 

Oh the...haven't we been here before?

Here we go again. Caught myself at it again yesterday. It would seem I cannot help myself.  The overthinking! I received a mark back yesterday for an essay, and it was good.  An A, and I got some fabulous comments back.  "Your critical perspective...has created an excellent essay.  I really enjoyed your piece" amongst other smile inducing comments. I loved it. So what's the problem? It's a 'first world, A grade student' problem. Honestly I felt that the mark didn't reflect the comments. I wanted a higher A. 

What is wrong with me?  I, of course, analysed this all evening, debating on whether I should have it looked at, to chase those couple of extra points...  I had to ask myself "does this, will this, really even matter?"  Well of course no. And yes. It doesn't matter, I have the A, and that's what will show, not the numbers, so it really is enough. I can't help wanting those extra points- I know that I wrote an excellent essay, and I knew that I would get an A as I handed it in, it felt right.

Lightbulb moment.  There it was.  I have gained confidence, belief in myself.  I can write! Better still I can darn well recognise when my work is good, and not so good.  If I take nothing else from this bout, it is that recognition.  I wrote an excellent essay and knew it.  Huh, sounds weird, but going into second year knowing this can only help my writing. And that's worth an imaginary A too.