dancingthroughchaos

‘Disappointment is a temporary detour on the road to success.’ – Zig Ziglar – ‘See You at the Top’ (1975)

Congratulations to us all. We’ve finally managed to slog through the thirty-six weeks of January for which, I imagine, you are as heartily grateful as I am.  

My recent walks have taken me past clumps of snowdrops, primroses and daffodils, all of which have cheered up the landscape considerably and provided hope for the days ahead.

I have set apart the next three weeks for writing which certainly sounds fantastic. Time and space to attend almost exclusively to putting words on a page has been much anticipated.  I know hordes of writers who would jump at the chance of such bounty.

The only problem is that it’s not working out quite as I expected. 

Like many people who write, I have multitudinous folders on my laptop containing everything from completed and semi-completed manuscripts to half-baked ideas, scraps of prose and a few brainstormed lists, most of which will not and should not ever see the light of day.

I have entertained grand visions of becoming engrossed in a number of projects to the degree that I would lose track of time completely.  Being so engrossed in a project that emerging back into reality is rather like popping back into oxygenated air having spent time under water, is such a satisfactory pleasure.  It is true that I did have lunch at 3.45pm the other day, but that was more to do with poor planning and responding to messages immediately than with being held in the grip of a creative surge.

It’s not so much the paucity of what I’ve produced as the thwarted expectation of what I might have achieved.

This is not a new thing for me.  Far too often I approach days, events, and even meals with expectations that fail to be met.  Disappointment is inevitable and readjusting my expectations feels like hard work.

My husband seems to function perfectly well without having any expectations about anything.  That’s not because he’s prone to pessimism so saves time by not having any – his lack of anticipation is not to do with any gloomy leanings.   On the contrary, he isn’t wired that way at all.  He tells me that he doesn’t want to waste head space conjuring up what a meeting, trip or conversation might be like before he gets to it.  I see the sense in that. Someone can ask him if he is looking forward to a trip to South Africa, or back to England and he will look at them as though they are speaking a foreign language.  He just hasn’t thought about it in those terms.  That’s not to say he hasn’t planned various appointments etc, he just hasn’t gone to the effort of imagining how they might look or feel.  Until he’s sitting on the plane, his focus is on what’s in front of him.

I am the polar opposite.  

I only have to see pictures of a house for sale and have mentally started to move my furniture in. This means I have moved house hundreds of time without actually going anywhere.

I have learnt ask to see pictures of places before we arrive so that my visual learner wiring can have the satisfaction of seeing how the reality matches up.  This is why I know how misleading a wide-angle lens shot can be…

Having no expectations seems like looking at a black hole to me.  Not very inspiring and probably rather miserable.  Seeing a whole lot of  nothing ahead would feel as though I am falling off a cliff.  There must be something ahead, I tell myself. My brain will always conjure up something to replace nothingness. In fact, without any tangible information my brain will formulate all manner of ideas but life and expectations rarely match.

As far as this self-imposed writing retreat is concerned: yes, I saw myself mastering those tricky passages and producing quality children’s stories for a new collection, sailing along inspired by the creative muses and the temporary joy of not having to share my space, the TV remote or my time.  In reality I’ve struggled which has been disappointing.

I can’t claim writer’s’ block because I have written a bunch of other things.  Between regular cups of helpful tea, I am encouraging myself with the fact that I’ve achieved a fair bit. I’ve written half a dozen articles that I’m happy with, completed the guided devotional notes I was working on, and finished an online course that has been waiting for my attention for a good ten months.  I’ve read some great books, deleted over two hundred emails (very satisfying), met up with a number of friends, got my body moving with swimming and walking and enjoyed some early nights.

Rather than flounder in the mire of disappointment that my expectations and my reality are currently not aligning well, I’m going to take my own advice and walk away for a while, banish those expectations as much as I can and trust it will all come together again further down the road.

And, of course, breathe.

[Thanks to Pixabay and Unsplash for images]