Writing Exercises the Whole Life

I'm supposed to be working. I take minutes and transcribe them as one of my jobs, which translates to a lot of sitting and I only get paid for two out of the five groups I do this for. Six if you count the Jell-O artists, for whom I track script changes and write things for possible use in the performance. Still, I generally like to do it. It feeds my need to articulate carefully, use my vocabulary, practice typing (still don't use those little fingers) and put things into words when they are sometimes said in less-than-elegant or diplomatic ways.

The task uses a certain kind of careful language that requires impeccable spelling and a solid understanding of intent, lots of editing skills, and the ability to construct simple sentences. I like long run-on sentences packed with lots of dependent clauses and uncommon words, which I should be using in fiction or even in blogging. I can't often use them in the minutes or reports I type. I can say anything I want in the Jell-O scripts, which is my joy in that job, but filling up the script with language usually involves taking it out in the next draft. We only have about a twenty-minute show.

Meetings are often two hours or more, so that is four or five for me. I have to move around on my seat cushion a lot and refocus my brain afterward. Super-tight attention is required to avoid interpretation in minutes: there really shouldn't be much of me in there. Of course there is a certain personality and style that comes through. I don't want to get lazy about it, and actually welcome the times that someone takes issue with words or phrases and challenges me to think again. Without that I would be throwing hours of focus out there to not even be noticed. Not many people read minutes at all, or at all carefully. You have to be a certain kind of detail person to even bother doing more than a quick skim.

Yet keeping the public record is not only a legal requirement of most organizations, it's a facilitative skill. Anyone can check back on a detail, and I frequently do, and assume others do too. I tend to leave things out that might make someone look bad, in the interest of moving forward through awkward times. Volunteers have a hard enough job speaking in groups without having to be super careful about how they might be misrepresented. I try to keep to the salient facts, including the discussion points, but I don't generally put names to opinions. You have to be there to really get the sense of the personalities of the meetings I transcribe. It's a little less transparent, but a little more efficient and protected from people who like to target other people with their complaints. While I simply love reading the OCF Board minutes, with all the names and attributions, I don't do that type of attribution unless someone asks me to. There have been times I have quoted people against my better judgement, because when getting paid, I do have to remember that I am working for the people who hired me, not myself. But the truth comes out. If someone acts like a jerk, they don't stay hidden for long, even if I extend them some courtesy. There are always stories between the lines, whether or not I am aware I am alluding to them.

I'm blogging today instead of transcribing just because I want the pleasure of writing without concern. I barely edit these blogs, though I like to think I write in an organized way. I read them over a time or two, but mostly they just flow out and that feels good. It's how it used to feel when I would spend three or four hours writing fiction, somewhat effortless and in the zone, really a pleasant place to dwell. I wish I wrote more fiction.

I'm still using the skills I learned over the last couple of decades, and my writing group still meets weekly to talk about writerly subjects. Pitching my script idea to the Radar Angels was a lot of fun for me, and deepening it as I incorporate the characters people want to play and the style they want to play them, as well as their lines that they write, is a great exercise in collaboration, which balances my need for control. One member carefully led me into a discussion of "holding space" as a facilitator, rather than moving the group in a particular direction. That felt useful and I try to do that. I'm not in charge of anything (setting aside my role as the Queen of Jell-O Art) except for helping all of us to hold space for each other, so that we all can thrive and create in the ways we want to. It's a gorgeous process to witness.

It has been working pretty well, the script, the minutes, and my writing life. I'm still working on a book, about my house and property and the historical background I've been so thoroughly researching. The research is a lot of fun, and I will hope to write some articles about it and some sections of the book in the next year. Unfortunately that work generally gets shelved in May and not addressed again until fall or even winter, as the business of making a living intrudes. I might get a couple of things in before April, but that is looking less likely as the meeting frequency increases and the workload does too. The board I found in the house is turning 100 years old next month. The first date on it, April 23, 1915, is one century before my brother's wedding will be, in Australia. I'll be there and not thinking about my board. The photo shows the board, which has three signatures and two dates, and this is another one, with the date of January 10, 1916. I assume that was the completion date, and the other, signed by Elmer Irwin Van Orden, the completion of some earlier phase of the work. Trying to answer the question of what Van Orden did has been a great puzzle. My current theory is that he did the basic framing to convert the two-room old building to one with a shed-like addition for the kitchen and bathroom, or maybe he built the foundation and chimney, or maybe he moved the building there and did those things. I don't know why the wood would have been on site to sign unless he had done a significant phase leading to the finishing done by this guy, Howard Frank Bowers, and Bilyeu Vaughn, who both signed almost nine months later. The fiction writer will have lots to do to fill in the gaps for the nonfiction writer.

This is the board, but not the right signature.

Back to the present year: John wants me to speak at his wedding, and I am tempted to use that tidbit in my speech, but I know that my house is about my life and the task is to speak to his life. I'll have to scratch that itch in another piece of writing. I'm not planning to take my laptop with me but rather paper journals, so I might take the one I write house pieces in. Experience tells me to just take a blank journal and write all about traveling to strange lands with my Mom, and I have learned to listen to experience, that's for sure. Maybe you'll see something here before I go, but March will be a very busy month.

In the meantime, I'll include a youtube of a Radar Angels performance song that I had absolutely nothing to do with. The skit was about a lot of things at once, as usual, as you can see by the diversity of costumes. It's a great piece of parody and staging, and if I knew who to credit for filling that space with that level of creativity, I would credit them. I have a feeling it was all of them, because that is how it works in collaboration. There, I have a lot to learn, and a lot of it is not at all about me. Good exercise.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vuu3ofp92Uc     
The song came near or at the end of the 2009 show Jell-O-Zone. Since the year was the sesquicentennial of Oregon's founding, the pioneers were included. Wish I could read the script.

Ranting to Rational

Indulged in a bit of a rant last night at a meeting. Didn't even realize the root of it until someone pointed out the desperation. I would have said discouragement, but clearly there was emotion I thought I had been controlling. Not that my reasons for feeling such things were not legitimate, but rants are rarely helpful.

I had felt some personal triumph this week after reaching out to someone who had ranted against me regarding my OCF logo products that I had worked so hard on. After stewing about it for several months I finally realized that of course the intent, if personal at the time, was not really personal and would have dissipated by now, so I reached out to the person. I second-guessed as I waited for a reply...what had I really wanted or thought might result? I had apologized, and then made a couple of excuses (bad form in an apology, always...you can't say "but" and defend yourself...) and it was clear that I had wanted an apology in return. That was what I meant by the coded language of "clearing the air." I wanted to give them the opportunity to take it back, even though the public damage couldn't be taken back (hopefully it was subtle and won't have lasting effects.) I felt that reaching out had been an emotional risk and it turned out to be the right thing to do. I was able to be helpful to the person with some logistical  information they needed to get to the goal they expressed rather ineffectively. We will maybe be allies in getting some progress in a weighty area of policy that could use some attention to head off numerable rants-to-be by others in similar positions. I was able to clear the way for my own creativity to resume, and I also was encouraged to discover that other people share my goal of clarifying OCF consensus-seeking process. People have forgotten that alternative organizations chose consensus-seeking as a process despite the weight, for the inclusivity and fairness it can bring. It's not an easy process to participate in, but the results are usually positive.

Always learning, un-learning, re-learning. I made a hat of that once, but it didn't sell. We tend to wish our lives were some linear progress to some enlighted place...but our realities involve lots of stepping back as we re-assess and examine our strategies when they don't get the needs met. Sometimes it is possible to get our needs met (especially if we just want the juiciness of drama) but we have to step back when we see that we have just tromped on some greater needs.The more people who are involved, the more feet to step on, but also the glimmer of a chance of improving or at least protecting the common good.

It's a goal to be level-headed, not respond to pointless drama, and to suggest strategies and solutions that actually move the issues forward...but those kind of conscious goals are really easy to lose sight of, particularly during meetings where so many people express so many diverse thoughts. I guess that is the joy and challenge of participatory decision-making.

So how to gain the respect of others and work as allies? First all present have to be willing to extend respect to others and themselves by being focused, rational, and not be driving a limited agenda. Meetings, especially public ones, are not a great place to make speculation aloud...like the questioning of Craft Committee motives that happened at the Board meeting this month. What? End run? I have no idea what that means in the mind of the person, a leader, who threw that into the mix. Craft Committee submitted two recommendations for guideline changes, a process that happens once a year. They were simple changes to wording in existing guidelines, nothing we thought was the least bit controversial. One we viewed as a tool to assist the management and crew, as well as the Board, and protect them from legal action. The reception was bizarre.

The end result was a guideline change that was not helpful to our goal of clarifying and communicating policy and it didn't add the tool we suggested. I suppose we failed to communicate our goal. Within the restriction of the atmosphere of suspicion of our motives, nothing could have been accomplished and at least I feel punished for trying. Looking ahead, I see that it is paramount that we communicate our goals and examine ourselves to see if we are trying to drive a limited agenda. We have to take the high road and not indulge in drama, irrational emotions, or allow ourselves to be discouraged if we don't get our needs met. No rants.

It's helpful to remember that we are having about 15,000 different Fairs out there, all at once. The work that is done in between the events is being done by thousands of individuals trying to sustain and promote their interpretation of the Fair. Working on the guidelines as we have been doing diligently for the last year shows us that the policies are confusing, repetitive, contradictory, and sometimes even incoherent. Considering that they develop over time through the small actions of individuals, it isn't surprising, but it does make for a daunting body of policy, procedures, practices, precedents, and plain old poop. There is a reason that people say we have guidelines and not rules. Lots of people feel misunderstood and discouraged, not just me.

It is common for involved people to feel like walking away, and they often have to go through a long process of re-learning to find their commitment again and clarify what they hope to accomplish. Seeking consensus can be a harsh process and often people find the messiness too much for their sense of order and fairness. All of us come from the similar place of attachment and ownership, whether or not that is real. Virtually all Fair volunteers feel love for the event and the organization and a desire to do their best to preserve and protect it. So these differences of opinion and misconceptions can't throw us off-track. The good news is that power politics is generally shown in the transparent recording of the meetings and rarely gets far. Selfishness and limited agendas are exposed and set aside by the diligence of the goal of seeking the common good. While vague as a concept, we all know when the common good is emerging and when it is being thwarted.

When I first started volunteering in addition to selling and doing work for various Fair entities (I print things) I promised myself I would not get offended. That means by any person, any act, or any interpretation of such. This has been something I have had to remind myself of many times and here it is again. It won't help to rant or to quit in disgust. My goal is to foster clear communication and assist others in getting their needs met. I take minutes and write things and pay close attention to what is actually said and done, not to personalities and foibles and misconceptions and rumors. I have to find those amusing when they surface, but keep my goals in mind. It doesn't have to be complicated. I knew it wouldn't be easy.

I can step it up a little bit. I know my fellow crafters and volunteers will all benefit as we gain understanding and respond to coherent and sensible policy. It isn't my job to make changes but rather to shine a light and help others find the tools they need. Change is glacial in policy-making and that is probably a good thing. Laws shouldn't be made for the few but for the common good. Any feelings that come to me are pretty much beside the point.

Okay, now I can go on. That wasn't so hard. Probably not a very entertaining post, but that is why I write a semi-personal blog. If it helps someone, good, but like we say about the Jell-O Art Show, first it has to be fun for us. OCF is more fun for me when I just concentrate on my art and my work. I successfully cleared the way for getting my interest back in making new products, with one email. Maybe with one report I can get back on track with the rest. Hope springs eternal.

What is fear and why do we worship it?

Simple answer: being human is hard and we are really used to feeling afraid. Of just everything and it's opposite: fear of death, fear of living too well. Fear of that guy, fear of my dark self. Fear of tomorrow, fear of not having a tomorrow. It all goes around in me, all the many things I'm anxious about right now, and when I try to tease down to the center of the fears, there's really nothing there. I guess that is the good news.

I'm terrified about my trip to Australia (in April) but what part? I've flown on planes and nothing bad happened. I get to spend all the time in the world with my Mom, a rare treat that I plan to treasure. I get to see my little brother marry the love of his life and meet her whole family, what a joyful time that will be! I get to see roos and cockatoos and no one is going to make me eat vegemite if I don't like it. What's wrong with me?

My latest theory was that maybe it was the falling barometric pressure today as a big storm blew in, to be followed by a few more. Rain isn't scary, and I'm not really afraid of that leak I had in the skylight...if it's still leaking after the fix, well, I can try again. The roof won't fall in. Getting wet isn't a big issue for me, no hairstyle to worry about or suede boots.

Maybe it's the fact that I'm testing my developing dairy allergy with abstinence from all things milk...including butter. Which ends my little cookie habit rather abruptly. I'm fearful of diabetes and high cholesterol, so I'm trying to eat no added sugars and more fresh vegetables and more oatmeal and walnuts, and reading internet articles that seem to assure me I'm pretty all right on both of those concerns. I can admit I could have been stuffing down my anxieties with cookies and such. Comfort foods. Cheese could have been that, cheese and cookies and beer. I haven't had beer in years now though, and I don't think I'm that attached to those things. I love dried fruit so that is sufficiently treat-like to satisfy me. Maybe I just need to cut back the coffee a little.

So what are the coping mechanisms I can use for anxiety? I'm a big avoider, which actually tends to increase the anxiety because putting things off leads to an overwhelming list of them. Could be that. I do have a long list. But one by one I've been crossing those things off: got new glasses, did the Jell-O thing last Saturday and it went really well, got back out into the shop and worked without any significant flare-ups of my repetitive motion stresses. Avoidance and escape aren't great, though they work some, but I'm escaping a lot less just in general, trying to face things faster and more efficiently and be more productive. That seems easy enough, and it's working.

Fear of what is out of my control? Well, duh. Practically nothing is. I'm involved with several groups who are trying to move forward on business and philosophical stuff and I am not in charge of any of it really. That's frustrating, but I'm not full of fears about it. I'm not the one responsible for any of it either, it's the groups. Everything is all spread out and we're doing it all together, and none of it is life-or-death.

So I've decided that it's just me. I'm more fearful than I used to be. I remember observing my mother's writing group a couple of years ago and noticing that all the women in their 60's through their 80's seemed afraid of everything. Their writing was timid, the subjects safe, and they all clung to safety in every way, it seemed to me, from conformism to politeness to their dependent relationships. I was in my fifties and pretty emotionally brave at the time, particularly in regard to writing. I didn't notice that changing really, but it has. I have less interest in *my truth* or anyone else's. I like to read it when other people write it, but I'm less willing to make definite statements about emotional truth. It seems more nuanced and complex than I can pin down with words. I don't know as much as I used to believe I did.

My concern for the environment and the survival of life as I know it has heightened. I feel more doomed and while I still try not to use fossil fuels and to eat organic and use more herbal and less allopathic remedies for simple things, I don't know if I believe in it the way I did. No, that's incorrect. I'm more convinced than ever than I need my food to be clean and my air to be free of poisons, but I see more clearly how futile my actions seem. I'm going to wipe out about a decade of biking with this one long airplane trip. Though I still have all the benefits of the decades of biking I guess. It doesn't just trade out in that simple manner. I'm still committed to those things, but I felt I had to upgrade my phone and I really ought to upgrade my car, because I have grown fearful of driving and that's making my life contract. And the bill for the new phone is more...seems like I just went in the wrong direction. I can't spend more all the time. But that seems to be just what I am going to have to do. So big free-floating fears there.

It's probably TV. That box is made to build fears. All that clever programming is so scary all the time. It's scary that people's values are so nuts that we love watching young women compete and lose complete composure and social mores to *win* some young man or some dance contest. All of the striving to be a star and the best and the one is ultimately completely depressing (and I don't watch those things, but turn on the box and there they are all the time.) It could be the approach of Valentine's Day, reminding me how much happier I would be if I just had a love to depend on, someone who loved me enough to give me a diamond or something. I don't know what I would do with a diamond, and chocolate is off the diet mostly but I suppose being able to depend on someone might be nice. I could pretend to be safe all the time if I trusted them to be in charge of things I don't want to be in charge of...but nah. Ain't gonna help me. I feel safer when I'm in charge. Back to that.

So here I am trying the writing work-through, wrapping it up by reminding myself of all the things I am not afraid of or aren't really problems, hoping the anxieties will dissipate. I do feel a little better. One thing I just did was while away the hour before the Radar Angels arrive to work on the script for the Jell-O Show. I have a good idea (at least I imagine that it is a good idea) and could probably write a finished script in an hour, but we are going to collaborate and though that is a little scary, it will be pretty fun and we'll come up with a good result. I've been through it twice now and both times it worked just fine. No reason to think it won't tonight, plus I cleaned up the house and have all this space so I can do other big projects in the living room until I clutter it up again. Lots of plusses tonight.

I still feel really anxious. I wish I had a better handle on it. There's always tomorrow, though. Something could happen this weekend to make me feel safe and good. That's likely actually, since Sunday is the Kareng Fund Art Bingo event and that will be all full of love. I keep telling myself this one thing I learned somewhere: turn anxiety into curiosity. Curiosity is fun and a great attitude to work under, and really quite useful when we don't know how things will go. Who does? The best laid plans, etc. etc. Maybe I'm just anxious in the sense of in a hurry. I want to see how these things I'm anticipating will turn out. Will the Jell-O Show be funny? Pretty sure it will. Will the wedding be one to remember? Definitely. Will a kangaroo kick me and knock me into a cockatoo carrying a vegemite sandwich in its beak? Guess we'll see.

See people Sunday. Come down and play bingo. What's not fun about that? Wear boots if it's really wet. Better put on some water for tea; here come the Angels!