Every Friday I transfer posts here from the Virtual Pint archives.
- At least to act as if (December 2005) — New year ruminations after a long absence from the virtual pub.
Why do I go away sometimes? Various reasons. I generally treated VP like a conversation more than a blog, and so if there were no questions, there was generally no conversation. But these days I absent myself because things are busy-good or because things are hard. When things are busy-good, I am so focused that I lose track of time; I am always surprised to come up from the ocean of self and find how long it’s been since I reached out to my virtual friends. When things are hard, I don’t want to talk to anyone, except sometimes for Nicola. I am happy to tell stories; I am not so apt to process current pain in public.
It interests but does not surprise me that “withdrawal” for me means I stop communicating. I’ll talk, sure. I’ll discuss ideas and thank you for bagging my groceries, and I’ll be cheerful about it. I just won’t talk about anything I feel. Communicating is for me a demonstration and expression of self, even if it’s just May I please have the salt? When my self is wounded in some way, I protect it the only way I know how — by encircling the vulnerable places with silence, making them invisible. I can pretty much define my circle of true intimacy by people who notice when I do this, and people who don’t.
Why am I telling you this? I have no idea, except perhaps that — in the spirit of this 2005 post — I continue to look for ways that I can be myself in my life even when it means being visible, being vulnerable, being so hurt sometimes that I literally cannot speak of it because my voice will not work.
It was not until the end of 2005, in this December post, that I was able to say (even sideways) in public that I had lost faith in both my novels. It was only to Nicola that I was able to say the real truth: I had lost faith in myself as a writer.
That’s not how I feel anymore. I can safely say that I will continue to succeed and fail as a writer, but I will never again doubt the rightness for me of doing it. But I’ve been feeling lately, for a variety of reasons, that other people whose opinions matter have lost faith in me. It’s astonishing how much that hurts. But it doesn’t hurt as much as when I lost faith in myself.
And so my wish for everyone, especially right now when so much is so hard, is that you will do whatever you must to hang onto your faith in yourself. Even if it’s in shreds and all you have is a fingerhold on it, don’t let go. Just hang onto it until tomorrow. Repeat as necessary.
- SBKoE (April 2006) — Here’s a prime example of the “cheerful” described above. That trip to England was brutally hard on both of us. Nicola’s mum was dying, and we all knew that this was our last time together. And then, thanks to an employee of British Midland Airlines, we missed our flight to Seattle, and there I was, begging a British Airways manager to please find a solution that did not involve my putting an exhausted, grieving woman with MS in a hotel for the night and subjecting her to the airport round all over again. He did, bless him forever, and I will always beg for something Nicola needs, but I don’t enjoy it. But I would never have told you that in April 2006.
- It’s your party (April 2006) — And here’s a little something about publishing rights. No angsty backstory (Thank god! think all the non-emos on the internet…)
Thanks as always for reading. It’s nice to have you here. I wish you a lovely Friday.
I miss you when you go away, but I understand a bit better now. When you write, you really put yourself out there. And when you write on this blog, you really put yourself out there too, whether it’s always intentional or not. You’re always honest, even if you don’t tell the whole story. I admire that in you.
That’s a lovely thing to say, Barbara, thank you. You have put yourself out there too in our conversations, and I really appreciate it.
In reading this post, I can really identify with the way that you express yourself, or rather, choose not to express yourself when struggling with internal emotions of sorts. I wanted to leave a comment much earlier, actually when you had first posted, but got caught up in “busy” mode, and then had come back to it when I was feeling a bit down, and it seems you tend to deal with emotions in a more silent manner,(much like myself, perhaps?) My heart really went out to you in this post, just because I feel that you have a way of expressing yourself (when you choose to) that I wish I could. You are not afraid to be clear, even though it might possibly mean hurting or offending others, because clarification seems really important to you. I strive to do that, and eventually hope that one day I can feel safe and comfortable enough in my own shoes to have the ability to do what you seem to do with such grace and beauty.
I’ve really been thankful in finding this blog, and I feel truly blessed in knowing there are beings of life such as yourself out there, touching the universe the way that you do. Funny, but I had recently struggled with faith in my own self as a writer, and in reading your words, I understand that I am not alone in my emotions.
Thank you for sharing such beautiful words and kind advice. You’re right, we should always hold on to faith in ourselves, no matter how small a shred it might be.
Have a beautiful weekend. 🙂
Thanks for this. I am constantly impressed with the way that you manage to say things so gracefully.
It’s so true what you have said about faith in ourselves. I have doubted myself many times, both in the past and of late, but it seems, for some reason I can’t fathom, I have always held on to some shred – however minute – of faith in myself. And I think that is why I never lose hope entirely. And then someone else reminds me that they have faith in me, and that helps my own to grow.
Faith, hope, trust — they are closely related in my mind. I’m not sure which comes first (I’ll have to think about that some more), but I know I need all of it.
And I have faith in your writing. It is brilliant. I just re-read the “Dangerous Space” story last week, and I was blown away once again by how brilliant you are. And anyone who can’t see that at the moment just needs to take another look.
And I’ll just be over here repeating as necessary.
Realmcovet, thanks very much.
Nope, you’re not alone. The fascinating and sometimes hard thing is that we really are all connected, never truly alone, but sometimes the thing that makes us feel most alone is other people. Which is why, as much as we need each other, we also have to believe in ourselves. Because sometimes other people aren’t enough.
This is a thing that often turns up in my work, one way or another, I’m realizing… the struggle between self and others, and how to know who to believe sometimes. I can’t learn without other people, but sometimes they try to teach me the wrong things. Or sometimes I just can’t accept the lessons.
*Shakes head* Sometimes I wonder how any of us make it through (smile). Certainly, having such kind words from other people helps, so thank you.
Jennifer, thank you too.
Hope, faith, trust. Of these, trust is the hardest for me these days. Not that I am Miss Suspicious Pajamas all the time. It’s just that for me, trust translates as a particular set of expectations of how someone will behave toward me — and I am starting to realize that sometimes my expectations are misplaced. It’s my job to manage my expectations — but because of who I am and how I define trust, I find that I trust less. I am still not sure how I feel about this.