So tomorrow is my 2nd "Writing Day." I recently cut my hours from 40 to 30 at my "other" job, in order to spend more time doing things that I love. Not that I don't love my "job," but there are just so many other things I have to do. Like writing for myself. Like writing this blog, writing poetry, writing fiction.
     I'm working hard at trying to be more honest, more "me" in my writing. I have the support and encouragement of some great friends who are doing the same. Together we are seeking the truth, each in our own way, yet traveling more or less the same path.
     The fear is that I will waste the day doing other things that come up. Other things I have to do, other things that are just plain distractions or avoidance. Yet why would I avoid or procrastinate what I say I really want to do? Fear. Fear of failure of one kind or another. That is true.
     More on fear to come ...

     If you listen hard enough, there are stories everywhere. By that I mean to say, there is meaning, movement, action. 
     A single word, action or glance may not have all the classical elements of a story as defined by the literati--yet who can escape the story of a single gunshot in the middle of the night, shattering the silence with sudden awareness,?
     There's conjecture, anticipation, the denouement of deciding that it was nothing really, or making a choice to call the police. There's a story there.
     If you love to watch people, and observe them carefully, there's a story in each moment, each movement. The way she brushes her hair out of her eyes. The way he tilts his head when he looks at you. Each and every action comes out of a context, a history, a story. 
     In fact, there is so much story going on in the world, that most people learn to ignore them. It's part of socialization, growing up, paying attention--to whatever the authority in our life wants us to pay attention to. Don't stare. Don't dawdle. Don't talk to strangers. Come along now. Hurry up. And in order to obey, in order to survive, we end up turning away from the stories of the moment. The enticing beginnings that start with once upon a time, the chance meeting with a dark and mysterious stranger that reveals our destiny and leads us on a dangerous and magical adventure.
     But some of us have not totally lost our curiosity, our sense of wonder, our ability to observe and to listen. We are among you. We sometimes act normal, but if you look closely, we are looking squarely back at you.
     We are writers. Do not be afraid. We are here to serve mankind.

     The general wisdom seems to be that 21 days is a good general rule for creating a new behavior pattern. But a recent study indicates that the amount of time it takes to form a habit varies widely depending on the habit under discussion. Although some habits seem to be formed (subjectively speaking) within the 21 day period, others may take as long as a year to become established.
     Ultimately though, it doesn't matter. Because creating a habit is really a change in behavior that takes conscious attention--for as long as it takes. And it is that conscious attention that is important, not how long it takes. 
     It does get easier as time goes by, as old habits are replaced with new ones. But as most ex-smokers or ex-alcoholics or former drug users can tell you, the temptation to return to old habits, or give up on new ones, never seems to quite disappear.
     The only real choice we have at any given moment is to act consciously and choose our behavior, or to go unconscious and repeat our same old patterns.
     So, I'm working on making blogging a habit. Hopefully it's a worthwhile habit--for me anyway. And I think it will improve my life, my writing, my opportunities to be creative and to share my wisdom, skills and talent with others.
     Now, if I only had some readers ... :-)

     OMG, it's priorities again! Sometimes it seems as though I just drift from one have to do this to the next have to do that. Followed by a few "want to do"s and then back to the ... etc. ad infinitum.
     So, right now (obviously), here I am at the computer, blogging. PLENTY of other things to do, some of them definitely more important. But even though they are staring me in the face, and are part of major goals and ambitions, I don't do them. An age-old problem. One that even St. Paul seemed to have struggled with.
     So, what to do about it? At the moment, just slog through the list. I do have a visual priority system of sorts. If it's on my desk, or on the floor next to it, or in my inbox, it's a priority. OK, not so great a system. I have other pieces of systems, and some of them work, and some are just leftover from some system that I really couldn't get behind.
     And just to end this on a completely indecisive but relevant note, you are what you do. 
     On to the piles on the floor ... (Note that this is the second post today. Must be some sort of blogging as procrastination thing.)

     After many, many years of working in the software industry, where people often roll in around ten or eleven in the morning, I had finally settled on 9 am as the time that worked best for me.
     I even managed to get into work generally around that time without the use of an alarm clock, except for on the occasional morning when I had been out real late the previous night. It was so freeing to not have my sleep interrupted by a clanging or a buzzing, or even an iPod/iPhone playlist of my choice.
     But, as they say, all good things come to an end. I have been struggling with how to develop better habits, exercise, writing, meditating--and I've tried a lot of tricks and techniques over the years. Many of which worked for a short time, but nothing lasting.
     So, back to the basics. I am now setting my alarm to get up early enough to spend some time writing and do some exercise in the morning before going to work. I am wary but cautiously optimistic. I am motivated today, and hope to develop some new habits.
     In my session with Arda last night, he reminded me that there are only two possible actions at any point. The conscious action, and going unconscious. The conscious action is a response that furthers my goals and honors my true values. The unconscious action is one that repeats previous patterns in an effort to avoid a perceived threat; a fear, possible pain or loss, or simply an uncomfortable situation.
     Setting an alarm, for me at this point, is a reminder to start my day with conscious action towards my goals of being more healthy, more productive and having more fun in my life by sharing creative experiences with others. 

     OK. Once upon a time ... there was this boy who loved to read. He read everything in the children's section of the library in his small town. The librarian was so impressed she convinced his parents to give him permission to take books out from the adult section. That worked until he brought home Catcher In The Rye. Still, the librarian intervened, promising a more conservative oversight. Still, she was much more liberal than his parents. He had to sneak some books into the house.
     He spent many nights until dawn, under the covers with a flashlight, reading everything he could get his hands on. His parents loved to tell the story that he read through the six volume encyclopedia that they bough on time payments before they were paid for ... including the Parents Guide as well, which gave instruction on all sorts of issues that parents needed to face when bringing up children. He read it, they didn't. This gave him an edge.
     He read novels in history class and comics during science class, anything he could prop up between the covers of a textbook that he was supposed to be reading, or manage to sneak a page at a time by lifting the top of his desk as often as he dared.
     He got caught, sure, plenty of times, but managed to get away with it somehow. His teachers loved him. He was so quiet and smart, and respectful, with his yes sir and no ma'am and please and thank you.
     He made it through high school and into college, and would you know it, ended up a writer. Making his living putting words on paper. Telling stories of one kind or another. Not famous. Not a millionaire. But a paid and published writer.
     And he lived happily every after. Well, happily most of the time anyway, so far. But the real story, yes the real story, is the life he lived. The dreams he dreamed, the stories he read and listened to, the story that he made of his life, and the stories he told.
     There are as many stories in the world as there are people. Each one different, unique, interesting to someone. There are still many stories to be told, and to be listened to.
     What's yours?

So, mountaintop highs are followed by something lower. Not so up today, but still feel like writing. Todays is Sunday. Spent the last 24 hours with my granddaughter. Wouldn't give it up for the world. Yet it pushes nearly everything else to the sidelines. For the moment, she is still asleep, so I have a few moments to write in this blog.

     I feel like I'm on a roll ... jazzed. About this blog, about writing, about life in general right now. I know that these highs come and go, and that most of life happens, is built, created in between the highs and lows.
     I also know, for myself anyway, that what I do with all that "high" energy has a great impact on the rest of my life, and certainly helps mitigate the lows.
     So, here's to being jazzed--and using that jazzed energy to do good, move projects forward, and share the joy of life with others.
     On another note--after struggling to move into the Mac world for the last couple of years, I've finally made my peace with it. Sort of a separation, not a divorce. I bought a new Mac Min and installed Windows on it. Why? You might say. Because the mac Mini is the best form factor, hardware and cool for a desktop PC. Once I get all my PC software up and running on this, I hope to be able to put my focus back on writing instead of fumbling around with all the tools of writing.

     OK, 10:15 PM and I'm really tired. Had a long, fruitful day. Ordinarily I would say it's been productive enough, fun enough, worthwhile enough, so that I can just go to bed.
     Then this thought pops into my head. Blog. Say what? But I'm so tired. And haven't I done enough today? Well, No.
     Saying yes to the things that pop into my head reinforces the desire to do them--when they're things important to me--and is critical to building a habit.
     Saying no, for whatever reason, builds an opposing habit; one of not doing something, not doing this particular thing (blogging) that I know I really want to do. So, here it is. Worked all day on redoing the front and back cover artwork for Tina's book. That's cool. But I need to do this as well. Because I enjoy it, even being tired, and I enjoy having done it as well. Hopefully I am also developing a habit that is important to me, and building the new future me. G'nite.

     I have been overtaken by a sudden attack of happiness. I am not sure how it happened, or where it snuck up from, but rest assured I will get to the bottom of this (haha).
     It just came bubbling up a few minutes ago, and I realized that I had been walking with an unusual spring in my step, feeling kinda loosey-goosey around the shoulders, and just, I don't know, feeling pretty light.
     It may have something to do with the amount of attention I have been paying lately to my own needs and feelings, as opposed to trying to fulfill the needs of others, and "fix" things or people. It may have something to do with coming back to work after 25 days off, and realzing how much I actually enjoy my work, and the people I work with. And it may have something to do with feeling as though I may be "back on track" with my writing, as well as facing up to new opportunities that are coming my way.
     Whatever the cause, I am grateful and appreciative, and just want to share my happiness with you. So there. And TWO posts in one day. What am I thinking?