Whew! Having a C.O.W. is Easier Than I Thought!

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creative writing, creativity, humor, job situation, quit work, work, writing

Wearing the wrong shoes

Ever find yourself in a situation where it feels like you’re wearing the wrong shoes? You know how you put them on, but jeez, taking them off has you tied up in knots.

Me, too!

At the beginning of 2013, I took a part-time job. I felt it was time for a new experience, a different environment, fresh challenges.

Zoom ahead seven months, and I realized that being unable to write regularly was like wearing shoes that bit at my heel. Lack of creativity and missing the opportunity to help others with my words was digging in, creating some mighty uncomfortable blisters.

I knew I had to leave my part-time job. You’d think that after such a short stint it would be easy, but it wasn’t. Already, I formed attachments to the people and the familiarity of the place, but still, I knew I needed to go. 

But what to say? When to say it? How to say it? For someone who writes for a living, the words I sought had vanished. In the wee hours, I stared at the ceiling, knowing I needed to give my notice within the next few days.

I had prayed about this before, sought guidance, thought about it. Finally, in those late-night hours, it hit me:

I needed a C.O.W. 

It should have been as easy as the cud chewers that populate my neighborhood, grazing placidly, plodding to the barn at milking time.

But this cow was different. I needed the Courage to make the move, the Opportunity to do so, and the Words to share my decision. I’m not at the top of my game at 2:00 a.m., but hey (or is that “hay”?), I knew this made sense on some deep level.

A few days later, I knew it was my C.O.W. Moment, felt it in my bones, when the only people in the office were the manager and me. No phones ringing. No customers. No nothing.

It was time to put C.O.W. into action. I explained why I needed to return to writing, giving my two-week notice in a few short sentences.

My declaration was met with silence. For me, though, it was a comforting space.

It was OK.

Now that the dust settled, what have I learned? When I was stumbling around, thinking I didn’t know what I needed?

I did.

I’ve always been a writer, always been creative, and when the laces on my creative shoes were tied in knots, it was up to me to untie them.

Ever been there yourself? What was your C.O.W. Moment?

Planned Spontaneity

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creativity, excuses, Facebook, inspiration, nicknames, priority, working, writing

When I was a kid, one of my dad’s many nicknames for me was “Grandma.” Not because I favored support hose and flowered polyester dresses, but because I had predictable habits, especially in the morning.

I’m eating different cereal now, but my mornings still follow a routine: get up, exercise, come home and have a cup of tea, and start my day. Overall, I like participating in planning events, rather than being surprised. It’s what my brother-in-law calls “Planned Spontaneity.” 

Thanks, Pat – it’s still a good line, and it still works!

Recently, though, I’ve done something that altered the flow of my day, changed the way I relate to people, and challenged my voice as a writer. I got a part-time job. It’s been a challenge because I’m used to organizing my day around homeschooling, my writing jobs, etc. Now I’m on someone else’s punch clock, dealing with a range of people.

I’ve found that writing has become even more important to me, given the fact that my routine has been disrupted and I don’t have the freedom for it that I used to. Something I took for granted is suddenly changed.

I just read Blaine Hogan’s post “When You Don’t Have Enough _____ to Make What You Want.”

Blaine suggests, quite convincingly, that “when you make the agreement, internally or otherwise, that creativity is tied to resources, you are dead in the water…What you lack isn’t resources, it’s imagination.”

http://www.clkr.com

He’s right, though. I’ve been internally whining about my lack of time to write, but really, it’s my lack of making it a priority. I have the same, God-given 24 hours that everyone else on the planet has; how I use them is up to me.

I’m sensing it might be time for some planned spontaneity!

Writing has always been a life line, a way to create, to bring words into being that no one’s ever read before, which is pretty cool. Finding the words to tell people’s stories – whether it’s writing their newsletter, sharing their story in an article, or writing a peppy Facebook post – is an honor. Plain and simple.

Interestingly, my time restraints have given me a sharper focus when it does come time to write. There’s a bright side to everything.

What excuses have you been telling yourself that hold you back from what you should be doing? Could a dose of Planned Spontaneity help?

You Are Not Your Job. Really.

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calling, career, challenges, Christian, creativity, inspiration, job, John Ortberg, mission, Peter D. Mallett, roadblocks, writing

I haven’t been looking for them, but I’ve been finding what I call inspirational “roadblocks” popping up lately.

Generally, it’s handy when our inspiration arrives in neatly wrapped packages. We gleefully open them, and they propel us into the sky of creativity where our work will burst open like a blaze of fireworks, noticed by everyone on the ground.

But inspirational “roadblocks” thwart our efforts, and for good reason. They’re meant to stop us, to get us to consider just why we’re writing, why we’re painting, why we’re delivering mail to hundreds of customers every day.

Are you doing it for the right reasons?

I was given a great inspirational roadblock by Peter D. Mallet, in his recent post “What is Successful Writing.” When I started writing, did I set out to become the next Ernest Hemingway? The next Agatha Christie? Nah. Although it would be nice, I just wanted my writing to make a difference, and Peter’s post discusses this very well.

A few days later, I picked up a great book, John Ortberg’s “When the Game is Over It All Goes Back in the Box.” Ortberg compellingly points out that there’s a distinction between our job and our calling.

And get this: you are not your job.

I borrow from his book, starting on page 160, to share just how to find your calling. It might be the same as your job, but for those who aren’t sure, I hope this helps.

1) Your Mission Starts Where You Are, Not Where You Think You Should Be. Ortberg says “Sometimes we’re tempted to think that our current position/job/situation is a barrier to our mission, but, in fact, it is where it starts. Being significant is not the same as looking significant…”

2) Your Mission Is Not About You. Ortberg uses Jesus’ lesson “You are the salt of the earth” to demonstrate that salt’s job is to “lose itself in something much bigger and more glorious; then it fulfills its destiny…If I do (something) by myself, for myself, it’s death. If I do it with God, for others, it’s life.” He doesn’t mean we should all rush out and sign up to be missionaries in Estonia; it’s whatever situation you’re in now where you can become “salt.”

3) Your Mission Will Use Your Strengths. “We all have the capacity for (strengths like wisdom, courage, humanity and justice),” Ortberg writes. “But a few of them resonate more deeply in you; they are your ‘signature strengths.'” Use them.

4) Your Mission Will Use Your Weaknesses. Your greatest burdens can become your greatest gifts – if you let them.

5)  Your Mission Will Be Connected to Your Deepest Dissatisfactions. “What troubles you most?” Ortberg asks. “Usually we try to avoid unpleasantness, but if you have a sense that your mission involves helping the poor, spend some time around those in poverty. Allow your emotions to become deeply engaged, and carry with you that fire that things must change.”

I’ve wanted to be a writer since I was a kid – I created a family newspaper that I sold to my parents for ten cents a copy. It was colorful and shared the exciting tidbits of daily life in our small home. Unfortunately, it folded after one or two editions, due to lack of interest on the part of the head writer. Still, that fire burned.

Fast forward – now, it would be rewarding to share the joy of reading with a child who’s struggling in school. With an adult who’s never admitted they can’t read, but wants to learn.

Ortberg’s points and Mallett’s ideas got me thinking.

I still need to write, and don’t plan on switching jobs, but it’s good to have an inspirational roadblock to shake up your thought process.

Don’t get hung up on letting your job become your identity. Like Peter D. Mallett and John Ortberg point out, consider why you’re doing your work. It’s great food for thought!