When Momentum Turns Against You

So the last time I wrote a real post here was February 12. (The two more recent film reviews are copies of what I post on Redblog.)

I'd been doing so well. What happened?

I'll tell you what happened: momentum got the best of me. As you may remember, I had guests here for Walker Stalker Con for a week at the end of February. My Scottish friend Paul was set to arrive first on February 18 and would be leaving February 24. In between those two dates I'd also have Jo, her partner Lisa and my parents here. I needed to not only have two floors of our place clean that I normally never clean (truth), but I also wanted to get all of my client work done in advance so that I could fully enjoy the time with my friends and not be stressing about deadlines or to-do's that didn't get done.

So I went dark in the days leading up to Paul's arrival, and had already told myself that it was fine to take a week off from this blog for the reason mentioned above.

The good news is this: Paul, Jo, Lisa and I had the best time ever. I'll dedicate one or two posts to their visit in the future so you can be jealous. But the bad news is that after everyone left and it was back to "real life," I couldn't motivate myself to write. At first the excuse was that I had so much to catch up on from the prior week. Then it was that I "deserved" a few days to mourn the fact that my awesome staycation was over and I had to face the freezing Chicago winter (and work) again. Then it was... well, then I didn't have a reason. I simply had fallen out of my morning writing routine and kept telling myself that it was OK to put off new posts because what would a few more days matter?

Along with not writing, I was also not going to the gym and not eating healthfully. I used the same "what's a few more days?" excuse—we'd all pigged out at top-notch restaurants around the city for a week... what harm would there be in continuing to overindulge for just a little while longer?

The harm is that I now feel totally disgusting, have gained 2 pounds and my face totally broke out from the shock of consuming almost no sugar or alcohol for months to ingesting dizzying amounts of sugar and lots of booze for the past few weeks.

Now I understand that the momentum (and pride and happiness) that had helped me sustain a month-long writing streak was a fragile thing. My past routine of writing a blog post early in the day had not formed into a hard-to-break habit yet, and so the momentum of not writing easily took over.

I suppose if keeping this blog alive wasn't really that important to me, the negative momentum would've been permanent. But I've truly enjoyed getting back to this type of personal expression. I think it's improved the work I do for clients, forced me to be more productive throughout the rest of the day, and has reconnected me with friends who share some of the weird traits, worries, obsessions and thoughts I post about.

It's soooooo easy to fall off of the wagon when it comes to goals I've set for myself that aren't easy to achieve. But the worst thing I could do is let my writing lapse "win," or let my new crappy-food-every-day habit continue. I'm not saying there will never be another good reason to take a short blogging break, but I think I'll be able to keep the satisfaction I feel from publishing something every day in the forefront of my mind just enough so that I'll resume my old schedule when that break is over.

And with that, I need to get to the gym to work off ALL THE CHOCOLATE.

- e

"Life After Life," and the Concept of Coming Back... as Yourself

As I was stressing out about topics for what is now my big TWO-POST STREAK, a book I read a few months ago popped into my head: Life After Life, by Kate Atkinson.

If you haven't read it, I'm definitely not ruining anything by revealing that it's about a baby born in 1910—Ursula Todd—who immediately dies... but then keeps being reborn (in the literal sense) and living out alternate versions of her life. Sometimes other people do something that affects when or how she dies. Sometimes her own choices are what change things. It wasn't one of my favorite books because I could never quite connect with any of the characters, but its overall concept is what I found fascinating and has stayed with me ever since.

When I was reading it, the first thing that came to mind was friends who have lost children. I don't think there can be anything worse than that. This book gave me some sort of weird hope that maybe there really could be a ton of different scenarios that play out for each of us. That maybe a child who dies in the life we are currently experiencing does not in another instance. And then I extended that same thought to those I and others have lost who weren't children, but who were still taken from us long before their time.

I have always been drawn to parallel universe/alternate timeline stories and theories; those of you who followed my LOST musings know that I was so confident that's what was going on in the show's last few seasons that I never saw the real ending coming. The 1998 Gwyneth Paltrow movie Sliding Doors, about how different her character's life would've been had she not missed the subway one day, is one of my all-time favorites. (If you've never seen it, I urge you to find it and check it out.) And of course five years earlier in '93 I had loved Groundhog Day, where Bill Murray tries to tweak his actions in order to escape from living the same day over and over again.

There was also my childhood obsession with Choose Your Own Adventure books and early, text-based versions of role-playing computer games, where every decision you make leads you down a different path. In short, I have always loved this stuff.

So Life After Life is based on this "what if this happened instead?" concept, with a type of reincarnation thrown in. Looooongtime readers of this blog may remember a 2009 post I did about my fear of coming back as a not-so-lucky person. One thing I've never thought about for one second before I read this book was the possibility of coming back AS MYSELF. I mean, sure, we've all had "ugh, if I could go back in time I would do this instead" musings, but the thought of actually dying and then being reborn as myself is a scenario that never crossed my mind. Nothingness, heaven, reincarnation as something/somebody else... these are all things I've thought about when pondering what happens when our time is up. But never coming back again as Erika Version 2.0—much less version 300.0.

I also never considered the concept of a third alternative to the "fate vs. free will" debate (another huge theme in LOST): maybe it's neither. Skip to the next paragraph if you don't want to be even remotely spoiled about the book, because I'm about to give my interpretation of its ending. Ready? SKIP TO THE NEXT PARAGRAPH. The book begins with Ursula shooting Hitler. So I assumed that that was her "destiny"—the ultimate purpose of her life—to change history for the better because she was subconsciously aware of what horrors this man would eventually unleash upon the world. But then the book ends by restarting the story again right before Ursula is born. Which to me means that she really had no ONE purpose, that she will be redoing her life over and over again forever, each time getting to change things that will affect different people, for better or worse. I also got the sense that while we readers may have only been seeing things from mostly Ursula's perspective, other characters were also reliving their lives and subconsciously absorbing "do's and don'ts" for the next time around. It really got to me, because I'd like to think everyone has a purpose. Whether they actually achieve what they are put on this earth to do is another story, but I was extremely thrown by the fact that the book just restarted again after the Hitler assassination. I had a knee-jerk "THIS ENDING SUCKS!!!!" reaction, but then I calmed down and thought about it for another day. (By the way, that's what the best books should make you do, IMHO.) The more I thought about it, the more I liked that Atkinson didn't go the expected route and that she forced me to really think about the book's messages and themes. Oh, and by the way, lots of people have very different ideas about the book's ending, so I am certainly not trying to imply that my interpretation is the "right" or only one!

So although I wouldn't put Life After Life on my all-time favorites list, that doesn't mean I wouldn't recommend reading it. I'd recommend reading anything that's going to force you to do some deep thinking. Plus, some people looooove this book, so you might end up falling into that camp. For me, it served as not only a motivation to ponder The Meaning of Life and reflect upon the fact that I honestly wouldn't do anything differently in mine so far, but also a reminder of how much I just love to read. So that's another 2015 goal of mine, along with "start meditating daily again": READ MORE.

If you have finished Life After Life and want to chime in with your thoughts, spoilers ARE allowed in the comments below. So everyone else, avert your eyes if you intend to check the book out!

Oh, and for those of you who've read it, have you heard that a "companion novel" is coming out this May that follows Ursula's brother Teddy's life? It's called A God in Ruins. I probably won't get to that one right when it debuts, so if anyone else does, let me know if it's worth a read.

- e

Too Blessed To Be Stressed*

"I'm grateful I live really close to a place where I can get awesome sweet potato fries for $3."

The above is but one of the genius entries in my new Gratitude Journal.

Last week I mentioned Happier, the book I was reading (and have since finished) about the study of "positive psychology." Considering how I dog-eared literally half of its pages, I think it's fair to say that I liked and would recommend the book. I wouldn't really consider it a self-help tome -- it's more a mix of research findings, interesting anecdotes, and simple "exercises" you can partake in if you want to put some of author Tal Ben-Shahar's theories to the test. One such exercise I gravitated to right away was "Keeping a Gratitude Journal."

The concept behind a Gratitude Journal is pretty simple -- research has proven that those who are acutely aware of the good things in their life tend to experience higher levels of emotional and physical well-being. So by consciously reviewing what you've got going for you, or what you have to be thankful for, on a daily basis, you're bound to keep things in perspective and not let setbacks rattle you as much as you might have otherwise. In short, you'll be happier.

Ben-Shahar recommends jotting down at least five things you're grateful for each night before you go to bed. I'd bought this cool "e" notebook last year (for $1! I'm grateful for $1 bins!) and decided it would be perfect for the cause. I've been keeping up with it every evening since March 28, and now truly look forward to composing my nightly entry just moments before I hit the hay. You don't need to come up with monumentally huge things you have to be thankful for (see sweet-potato-fry line above) -- and you don't have to worry about repeating yourself over the course of time. The key is to make a habit out of the practice -- to keep what's good in your life at the forefront of your mind.

Knowing that I'll be writing at least five "gratitudes" in my journal every day has helped me to be more conscious of things I usually take for granted -- things that actually make me REALLY happy. The sound of my dog snoring. Working in my pajamas. Lighting a new candle for the first time. The neighbor who's always fixing up our building. A coupon for a place where I would've gladly paid full price. A message from an old friend. Losing myself in a great book. My morning cup of Earl Grey.

None of this is life-changing stuff. But that's kind of the point. I've traveled to third-world countries and have seen awful, awful things -- conditions no human being should ever have to live in. And every time I returned from one of those trips I swore to myself that I would never complain about anything again. Ever. That I would never get jealous of anyone, that I would never get upset about something stupid, and that I would always remember how incredibly lucky and privileged I am compared to the vast majority of the rest of the planet's population. (Anyone reading this can most likely say the same thing, right?)

But within a week... definitely within a month... I would somehow push those sad memories and experiences from my mind and be back to fretting over lame, inconsequential stuff.

Humans are simply hardwired to forget what they've learned from life's most painful or uncomfortable lessons. Typically it takes a horrifying event or natural disaster to make each of us stop in our tracks, put things in perspective, count our blessings, and treat one another more kindly... until our memories fade and we're back to worrying about the silliest of things again. I'm the worst offender of them all.

That's why I think the idea of a Gratitude Journal is so genius. Every 24 hours it forces you to reflect on how much you have to be thankful for. If we're not taking note of the things that have the power to bring us joy, keep us safe, and inspire us, then it's going to be really tough to achieve any sort of lasting peace in this lifetime, isn't it?

- e

* I saw this saying on a t-shirt some guy was wearing at The Taste of Chicago years ago. It popped back into my memory when I was struggling to think of a creative title for this post. So consider me grateful for the Random Dude Wearing the "Too Blessed To Be Stressed" tee!

Throwing the Knapsack

Now that I'm slowly but surely trying to work my way back into a routine that includes at least a couple of hours of reading for pleasure every week, I'm a little overwhelmed by the number of books vying for my attention. I have a habit of buying tons of books in random spurts, knowing full well I probably won't be able to get to all of them for years.

In the last few months I finished two books that came out shortly after mine and are complementary to the story I covered: The Futures by Emily Lambert, and The Asylum by Leah McGrath Goodman. I've had the great honor of meeting and/or talking to both of these authors and loved reading what they had to say about other aspects of the world I used to work in. Now, however, I'm ready for a little break from business reading.

So last night I scanned my enormous bookshelf (that's it, to the right... it's two rows deep on all levels -- and if you want to know what in the hell that crazy bird statue is, you'll have to wait for my next book!) and my eyes came to rest upon Brisingr. I bought this novel when it came out in September 2008 and still haven't touched it -- how sad is that? It's the third book in a fantasy series that revolves around a boy and his dragon, and so I figured that's about as far away from Corporate America as you can get. Ding ding ding... we have a winner. But then a bright yellow book on the top shelf seemed to call to me, and I decided to pull it down. It was Happier -- a gift from my Aunt Sue a few years ago. It was written by one of my cousin's professors at Harvard, Tal Ben-Shahar, who teaches an extraordinarily popular class about happiness, of all things.

While I apologize to poor Brisingr for giving it the brush-off once again, I am really glad I picked Happier as my next read. I am LOVING it so far -- it's exactly what I needed to motivate myself for my next big project (the aforementioned book). It also inspired a great conversation with my husband last night, as well as all sorts of blog post ideas -- including today's about "throwing the knapsack."

What that phrase refers to (in Happier) is a fictional hiker whose path is suddenly blocked by a high barrier. The hiker only has a knapsack with him, and he decides to throw it over the barrier. Now he has no choice but to devise a plan to get himself over to the other side, too.

Professor Ben-Shahar gives a few examples of famous people who "threw the knapsack" -- people like Thomas Edison and John F. Kennedy who publicly made huge promises (the lightbulb! a man on the moon!) and declared aggressive deadlines by which they'd complete their tasks... even though their chances of success at the time seemed very slim.

These stories resonated with me, because I have learned that I am definitely the kind of person who needs to throw her knapsack in order to really commit to a goal. I've always had a huge fear of failure, but an even bigger fear of not doing something I say I'm going to do. So in August 2007 when I left the financial services industry to try and make a 180-degree career switch and work on getting an agent and publisher for my book, I told all of my closest friends and family members what my intentions were. I asked people I respected if they'd review a draft of my book proposal over Thanksgiving, so I would have to be done with it by then. I promised my husband that if nothing had come from my efforts on the book within a year, I'd return to The Man. (Nothing did come of the book within a year, by the way... but my redbox gig fell into my lap just in the nick of time!)

More recently I started realizing that I was stuck in a creative rut. I felt so overwhelmed by all of the things I could be doing that I wasn't being truly productive on any front. I knew I needed another big goal to kick my behind into gear. That's why I made the promise publicly on this site -- both to myself and to awesome readers such as yourself -- that I would start posting here again every day. I've also thrown down the gauntlet on my second book -- I will write it, dammit! I must.

With that, I must ask you to prepare for a lot of soul-baring on this site in the coming months. While I definitely have plenty of silly and/or lighthearted posts in the works, I'm understanding more and more that I'm meant to be writing about topics that are not always so easy to tackle... and then subsequently share with others. But the reward (for me) is greatest when I'm brutally honest and in turn hear from others who relate to how I'm feeling or what I'm going through. So move over Jack Handy, e's Deep Thoughts are a-comin'!

'Cause this here is real!

I'll end with one of my favorite quotes that sums up the whole "throwing the knapsack" idea:

Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it!
Boldness has genius, magic, and power in it.
- Goethe

- e