Next Up: Quantum Physics!

This morning I read an interview with a woman who writes memoir, and she basically said, “I don’t know what the truth is until after I read what I wrote.” In other words, she doesn’t know what she thinks about something – a past experience, a relationship, herself – until she puts it into words on the page.

As a writer of personal essay and memoir, my experience is the same. The primary reason I write anything is to sort out my thoughts, to get at the “truth.” I’m relentless in stripping away the bullshit, the mental trickery I use to feel more comfortable with myself and the world.

But comfort isn’t useful in the long term (unless of course you’re happy being a sheep, a lemming, or any other animal that blindly follows the herd. And I’m pretty sure none of you are in that denial-loving camp.)

Which Naturally Leads Us to a Dead German Philosopher

In my History of Literary Criticism class we’re studying Nietzsche, who believed it’s human nature to want to know the truth, but only if that truth doesn’t hurt.

Our minds are so good at seeking what agrees with what we believe or want to believe, we even shape what we read or hear to fit our worldview. A selective translation, in a way. It reminds me of how you can read your daily horoscope and it will always seem true - we pick and choose the words that apply to our lives.

But the process of using language as a way in to the truth, even if that truth seems to be ever changing as we gain more experience and, one hopes, wisdom, is valid. Nietzsche believed that the artist is a “prime example of an individual responding joyfully to the challenge of shedding the illusion of truth.”

We write to shed that top layer of what we know as the truth, only to get to the next layer of “truth,” shed that one, and so on. Ultimately, I’m not sure what we’re left with, though I agree that “The Truth” is a slippery concept and ultimately an illusion. The trick is to be brave enough to keep stripping away the layers and turn a ruthless eye on what we say, how we act, what we think. It might not be pretty, but at least it’s honest.

How do you get at “The Truth”? And what does that even mean for you?

Prison Would Have Also Given Me Forced Down Time, But It Would Have Upset Mom

You know what the great thing is about having surgery?

(When, oh when, do I get my award for Most Likely to Turn a Bad Situation into Good?)

It’s the forced down time. Which means that instead of running to and from appointments and errands and work and school and the gym, and, God forbid, fun stuff like dinners with friends and movies, you get an excuse to do none of that. Because you’re flat on your back, and let’s face it, high as a kite, which means running anywhere is just plain out of the question, and might even be illegal in some states.

It’s the chance to let your mind wander (narcotics entirely optional). A chance to reset your life, to get back to basics. First priority: get the body well again. All else loses its urgency.

I was thinking about the coming school year. I know, I know, it’s still July, but since I’m out of town for two weeks in August and have a lot to do on both sides of that trip, in my world it may as well be September. (If you have school-age kids, I’m sure you’re in the same boat.) Here’s what I’m focusing on, in random order:

Back to Basics

School: Enjoy my last year as a grad student, and the luxury of being surrounded by people as fascinated by language and its power as I am.

Writing: Thesis, thesis, thesis. No need to worry yet about getting my freelance career going again, or the other fun project ideas floating around my squirrely little brain. Plenty of time for that next year.

Teaching: Do my best to help 20 undergrads become more confident writers and thoughtful readers.

Blog: Don’t worry about optimizing it for SEO or Tweeting my way to 10,000 readers. Just try to write useful, entertaining posts.

Work: Be enthusiastic and engaged.

Fun: Despite my crazy schedule, make time to play with friends, go for walks, visit museums. Revel, at least a little, in this gorgeous city and all it offers.

There they are, six things I’ll focus on in the next nine months. To list them out makes me breathe a little easier, even if it’s actually more than I like to have in my regular life (have I ever had one of those?). But for the short term, it’s good.

What about you? Can you boil your life down to a handful of Most Important Things, and either eliminate or put off the rest?

The Beauty of Procrastination

Okay, after this paragraph I’m done talking about my recent health hiccup. I’m boring myself at this point, and God knows how you feel. Doc says I’m recovering nicely, my energy and mobility are good, and Diet 2.0 is relatively painless. (Although I have yet to experience a craving for grilled cheese or lasagna or anything else not on my approved foods list. Keep your arms in the tour bus, is all I’m saying.)

It’s time to get back to building this Life on the High Wire. I’m the queen of goal setting (it’s true – I even own a little tiara made of spreadsheets and To Do lists), and have an unnatural love of planning ahead. I have a three-year plan, a one-year plan, and a To Do list broken out into months and seasons.

(Despite how this sounds, I’m not all that uptight, I’m actually pretty easy going. Right? Right!?)

Goals are good because they keep us focused on what we want, and if we break them down into baby steps, we have a solid chance of success. No problems there. But what I’m finding is that, in some cases, there’s such a thing as planning too far ahead. (You’ll need a lot less time to complete your applications for grad school, for example, than you will to save for a down payment on a house.)

I was hired in April to teach Intro to Creative Writing at Queens this fall. Being the Queen Planner, I decided that having never taught this class before, it would be a good idea to take my time and get my lesson plan together over the summer. Research best practices, find sample syllabi, read a few collections of fiction, poetry, and playwriting to help me decide on my book list.

Yeah, right.

Where am I at on this project? I did manage to order my books for class last month, because there was a June deadline (we’ll come back to that in a minute). I went with perfectly wonderful collections I’m already familiar with: Amy Hempel, Li-Young Lee, and Sam Shepard. Easy and excellent. But I've been fretting about this damn syllabus for months.

Why haven’t I done more than order books? More pressing concerns came up, like work, my dense but fascinating History of Literary Criticism class, a couple small writing projects, this blog. Oh, and surgery. (Doh! I wasn’t going to mention it again.)

Technically, I don’t have to have my syllabus done until the first day of class. And the truth is, I don’t need months to prepare. I’ve taught before, so that part’s not new. I’m a writer and reader, so the concept of creative writing isn’t new either. (Though on some days, you’d never know it by the drivel I produce.) I came up with some good curriculum ideas for my job application, and I can start with those.

You know what will happen? About two weeks before classes start I’ll freak out. I’ll jolt up in bed at 4 a.m. and think, Crap! (Not really “crap,” but you get my drift.) I have 20 students arriving in my classroom in two weeks, and I have no idea what to tell them about the next three-and-a-half months! I need to get my crap [Ed. note: “crap” not actual word used here, either] together!

And then what I’ll do is make some coffee, go online and research, get some books at the library, and figure it out. Because I have to. (Again, note the way we get things done when forced, because of deadline or otherwise.) I’ll draft a lame syllabus first. Then I’ll revise it. And revise it again. And by the time the first day of class rolls around, I’ll be ready.

The point is, I did not need to put this project on my To Do list way back in April and cause myself needless months of anxiety. I could have just written on my calendar for mid-August: Write the Damn Syllabus. Then I'd have been able to focus with abandon (can you do that?) on everything else that really did need to be worried about this summer.

So, there is such a thing as too much lead time. Procrastination can be your friend. And if all else fails, take it from me: enthusiastic cursing gets you that much closer to your goal.

Do the Hops and Barley in Beer Count as Fiber?

First off, welcome to the readers coming over from Wise Bread! I hope you’ll join the interesting discussions happening in the comments, and here are some posts about money and frugal living you might like.

Second off (is that a phrase?), surgery went well. (For new readers, go here and here to see what I’m talking about.) I appreciate all the good wishes and healing thoughts – they help.

I’ve jumped full bore (okay, not literally, since that would cause me to spring a stitch) into Diet 2.0. When I say diet, I don’t mean the lose-weight variety (though that’s a likely byproduct), but I mean reinventing what I put in my body on a daily basis, so I don’t have to go through this surgery Ever Again. Because at the rate I’m going, I’ll soon be eligible for the Mt. Sinai Hospital Club Card: Buy 10 surgeries, get your 11th free! And that’s just sad.

Diet Changes I’ve Already Made

- Halving my coffee intake. I was doing 2+ cups a day, and since caffeine is a problem in excess, I’ve switched to just one cup in the morning. I haven’t even noticed the difference.
- No more nightly wine. I've implemented this one by default since a wine/Percocet spritzer, though tempting, is probably a bad idea. But once I’m off all the meds and able to go back to my wine-lovin’ ways, I’m doing this. I predict I will not like it.
- 40 grams of fiber a day. Dr. Weil recommends this and the research supports it, so that’s what I’m going with. If you use high-fiber breads and pastas, plus lots of whole grains, fresh fruits, and vegetables, that number isn’t as hard to hit as you’d think. I’m just hoping it doesn’t mean I have to be within two yards of a bathroom at all times, because that would be, you know, inconvenient. And exhausting.
- Mostly vegetarian, fish once in awhile. Not hard so far.
- Cooking from scratch. Yes, it takes more time, which I’ll have almost none of this fall, but my plan is to make a couple big batches of something healthy on the weekend and eat that the rest of the week. I’m thinking four-bean chili, multi-grain pilaf with vegetables, bran muffins. I even have a dream of making whole grain breads, but I may be getting ahead of myself.

I have lots of questions for my doctor at Wednesday’s post-op appointment about his recommended high fiber, low fat diet. What about peanut butter and almonds? Eggs and avocadoes? And dear God, what about alcohol and caffeine? Because if I have to give those up entirely, I may as well also only watch documentaries and read The Economist, resulting in perma-frown and crabby countenance, and you may as well just kill me. Which will be easy, since I will have already died of boredom.

One of the many upsides of this grand experiment is near and dear to my frugal girl heart – it will save money. Less spent on coffee and wine, less spent on packaged foods, and for God’s sake, less spent on cream puffs and pizza.

Now it’s just a matter of keeping all these positive changes going, because this time I don’t have a choice. Anyone have discipline tips, ways to stay focused on the big picture instead of caving to a craving? An electric fence for cheese, maybe? Let us know.

I'm so honored!

Last week's post about my home buying experience is featured in this week's Wise Bread Carnival of Pecuniary Delights (under "Personal Financial Anecdotes"). They've got tons of good financial info over there, so check it out.

Global Warming Will Clear Up On Its Own, Too, Right?

So, I was overly optimistic about my infection clearing up on its own. I’m having surgery today. The good news is since I caught it earlier than last fall, the recovery time should be less of an ordeal. The bad news is it’s, um, surgery.

My doctor hasn’t said so, but from what I’m reading diet is a huge factor with my problem. The irony is that I eat pretty healthy – I rarely eat red meat, chicken once in a while, plus lots of whole grains, fresh fruits and vegetables.

But since I got to New York, with its cheese shops and bakeries and pizza joints on every corner, it’s been a bit of a free-for-all. I walk home from class at night and think, Gee, I’d love a cream puff, and Pouf! There’s the cream puff store.

I’ve managed to keep my weight (mostly) in check, because I walk everywhere and work out a few times a week. But that’s not enough. You can work on the muscles, the structure of your body all you want, but if you’re not fueling it right, exercise is only half effective. In other words, running five miles a day does not cancel out the pallet of cheese doodles you just bought at Costco.

I was vegetarian for ten years, and even went vegan for four months. That little experiment died a miserable death, much like I felt when faced with one more meal involving lentils. And I love lentils! Some of my best friends are lentils! Maybe I wasn’t the smartest vegan, but the lack of variety did me in, so pesco-vegetarian is what I’m going for. (I’m cutting out chicken, but think fish is a good idea once in awhile.)

If these two surgeries are any indication, my years of playing it fast and loose with what I put in my body may be over. Bad habits are catching up. And it looks like I can no longer eat well (high fiber, low fat) some of the time and expect that to make up for the rest of the time – cheese everything, chips and dip for lunch, wine whenever I want.

I know. Kill me now.

But there’s a part of me that’s excited about the opportunity to be forced to make big changes. I’m anxious to read Michael Pollan’s In Defense of Food, whose philosophy boils down to, "Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants." Has anyone read it? What big changes have you made for your health?

What I Had for Lunch? Amoxicillin

Regular readers might remember the fun I had last fall.

Well, the problem has come back, but I’m hoping I’ve caught it early enough so I can avoid surgery this time. What’s making it worse is that I’m panicking because I Just Don’t Have Time For This. I’m taking a class where you can’t miss even a day without getting way behind, a busy job that’s busier than usual, and writing deadlines looming.

This might seem like an absurd thing to be thinking about amidst a (hopefully minor) medical crisis, but I’m thinking about the beauty of a life where you set your own schedule.

I realize that even if you have a job you love (like I do), you might have enough independence and good will accumulated that you could take personal time off without fear of it all falling apart. But I admit I’ve got a bias for a freelance lifestyle, because there’s no worry about any of that. If something comes up that you need to deal with, you deal with it, then you get back to work. You’re the boss, you make the rules.

I know it’s because I’m in grad school and juggling around that, and my life has never been one you’d put in the same sentence with words like “predictable” or “mellow,” but it strikes me that I’ve gotten too busy (again) and have forgotten how to take good care of myself.

I’m hoping this is just a blip, a little health detour, and that it won’t mean weeks of recovery like last time. But it does get me thinking about how, because of my schedule, I’ve let good habits go, mostly around taking care of my physical self. And the problem with our bodies is that if we ignore or abuse them enough, they bite back.

The good thing about this – once an optimist, always an optimist! – is that it’s a great reminder (okay, a smack on the head) that I need a body overhaul. I’m just hoping the overhaul doesn’t involve scalpels. I’ll keep you posted.

The Year of Free Foot Rubs I Promised May Have Also Had Something To Do With It

Apparently it’s Deonne Tells Her Story week at LOTHW, so in response to readers who’ve asked about getting started as a freelance writer, here’s how I did it. (For you non-writers out there, the lessons I learned could apply to starting any new venture.)

How I Got Started as a Freelance Writer

When I lived in the Bay Area, the only published writing I had was one essay in an anthology, and songs. (I was a singer/songwriter and small business consultant back then, so my life was rock and roll and spreadsheets. Have I mentioned I’m a Gemini?)

There was a local paper about women and business I read faithfully, and one day I had that classic epiphany: Hey, this is a great paper, and hey, I know a lot about women and business and can string words together in a reasonable fashion. Maybe I should try writing for it?

So I did what I’ve done over and over and over in my life, in fact it may be the one thing I can point to that has gotten me most everything I’ve achieved: I asked for what I wanted.

I reread a few issues of the paper and wrote a well-crafted, enthusiastic email to the publisher. I was up front about my lack of clips, but tried to make up for it by showcasing my knowledge of her market and the subject matter. I hit send, on a Wednesday, and waited.

Nothing.

On Saturday morning, I got a phone call. It was the publisher, saying she got my email, she liked what she read, and by the way, what was I doing in an hour?

Turns out the writer she’d hired for the cover story had bailed, and an interview with a sushi chef restaurant owner was set in Berkeley in one hour with no one to do it. I was in my pajamas, had never done an interview before, and knew nothing about sushi or the restaurant business, so I said what anyone should say in that situation: Sure! One hour, I’ll be there!

I met the publisher and sushi chef at the restaurant and did the interview. The chef was fascinating. She was Chinese, when of course Japanese is the norm for sushi chefs, plus she was a woman in a male-dominated field, so I had no problem asking all kinds of questions and gathering plenty of material for the piece.

The publisher expressed her gratitude that I jumped in at the last minute, but she still hadn’t seen the piece that was set to run front page in a couple weeks, so I’m sure she was a bit nervous as well. Sure, I could do an interview, but could I write?

I took my notes home and spent days drafting and writing one 1200-word article. It took me for-ev-er, but I wanted to make sure it was good so I’d get hired again. I got the piece in on time, it ran, and the publisher emailed to say how pleased she was and thanked me again.

I wrote back, saying how much I appreciated the work and how much fun I had with the assignment. (I did, actually. That was the first time I realized my love of interviewing people, and to this day one of my favorite things in the world is to hear someone’s story and translate it for the public.) And of course, I ended the email with, And if you ever need help with anything else, just ask.

Then, nothing.

But not much later, something. The publisher emailed with a smaller, not front page, assignment (later she admitted what a risk that first one was for her, but said she “had a good feeling about me” from my initial email), and once I got that second piece in on time and it was similarly well crafted, she started giving me regular assignments.

After about a year doing consistent work and not once missing a deadline, the publisher wanted to start a “Small Business 101” column, and asked if I wanted it. (Me: “Sure!” Are you seeing a theme?) It was a great gig, and those clips are what I used to land my fantastic gig as a writer for The Taos News.

Here’s what you can take away from my story:

- Have the chops, but don’t worry about being perfect
- Know the market
- Put yourself out there – don’t be afraid to ask for what you want
- Prepare for a lucky break by being ready to jump in
- Come through – be on time, do good work
- Follow up with enthusiasm and helpfulness
- Be the one the boss can always count on

One more thing I’ll point out: start small(ish). There are plenty of excellent regional publications that won’t be as competitive as the big guns, like The New Yorker or Harper’s. I’m going to see how my year goes, but my goal is to get back into freelancing. I miss the work, and those spicy eel rolls aren’t paying for themselves.

Anybody else want to share a “how you got started” story?

Financial Freedom in One (Not) Easy Step

Like the rest of the U.S. this weekend, I was thinking about independence. (Okay, and beer and snack foods, but really, independence was the thing I thought about the most.) I was specifically thinking about financial independence, and how that relates to creating a life where you can spend all your time on things that matter.

Last week we talked about the baby steps that add up, and in the financial realm that can be brown-bagging your lunch or canceling cable. But if you want to make a lasting impact on your financial independence, you have to also tackle the big expenses, and I’m guessing your biggest one is housing. (Please don’t say it’s cocaine, because that will just make me sad.)

This might seem totally wackadoo, but the best financial move you can make for the long term is this:

Get rid of your housing payment.

Put that keyboard down and hear me out. I don’t mean this month or next year or even in five years. I’m talking about making this the One Giant Financial Goal of Your Life. You could be like Sisyphus finally pushing that boulder over the top of the mountain. Pure freedom.

If you’re young and/or renting, this concept might seem especially ridiculous. But I was once young and renting, and I did it. I had a big hit of luck that made my story move a lot faster, but the basic premise is the same.

My First House

I lived in the Bay Area for almost 15 years, and toward the end had built a successful consulting business. (I was in my early-30s.) I worked all the time and was making more money than I ever had, which still wasn’t a lot, but for me it was plenty. I was tired of paying rent and knew it was now or never, so I held my breath and jumped into the insane Bay Area real estate market.

I ran the numbers to see how much mortgage I could afford, which wasn’t much in that overpriced market, so I bought a tiny, cute house in a decent neighborhood in Oakland, and took out a 15-year mortgage, which meant a slightly higher monthly payment but way less interest paid over the term of the loan.

LESSON: Give yourself a budget (mine was 33% of my income) and stick to it. Don’t buy the best house, buy a pretty good house. (I would have loved a stylish condo in the city, but it was out of my price range.)

I fixed up my little bungalow and hung on for five years as the neighborhood improved, then hired a fantastic real estate agent and sold. For a lot more than I paid.

(The insane Bay Area real estate market is the part that sped up my story, but even if it would have taken a lot longer, my steps would have been the same. And I didn’t make a million bucks or anything – this isn’t that great of a story.)

LESSON: Do the work yourself, be patient, and find experts to help you.

My Second House

Now I was ready to get out of the Bay Area and move to Taos (with its much cheaper housing market). What I didn’t do was take the money and say, Well, I could buy an even nicer house and have a regular-sized mortgage. Nothing extravagant, maybe a couple hundred thousand. It’s the American way, for crying out loud! It wouldn’t kill me, I’d just have to work full-time, but look at the place I could get! In fact, I’m sure I need those steam showers and extra bedrooms! I do! Because I might have a party and everyone will want to sleep over! And take a steam shower!

I looked at one place in the mountains that was big, with all the extras, on five acres. I drooled openly. I looked at a gorgeous smaller house in town where I could walk to the Plaza and the grocery store and my beloved Taos Inn. After putting a lot of money down I still would have had a “reasonable” mortgage. Wasn’t it worth it to have a gorgeous house with all the trimmings?

No. It wasn’t.

I ended up buying a very nice, but modest, house north of town. It’s got a terrible road and schizophrenic internet and phone access. I have fantastic neighbors and the house is just big enough. And I don’t have a mortgage.

(Again – put the keyboard down. It can be done.)

LESSON: Stick to your budget! Go for less than you think you can afford.

This is getting long, so I’ll try to wrap up. Even if you’re a in a normal, non-Bay Area housing market and starting from scratch, here’s what you can do:

1. Buy a house you can afford. Consider buying even less house than you can afford.
2. Take out a 15-year mortgage.
3. Throw all your extra cash at the payment. Even if you put an extra $100 in every month, you can reduce those 15 years by a big chunk.
4. Make that last payment and either live there as long as you want, or sell the house and buy something else free and clear. Voila. No housing payment.

I’m simplifying, but not by much, and obviously, there are a lot of baby steps involved here, too. If you’re not ready to buy yet – you’ve got other debt to pay off first, you haven’t saved enough for a down payment – this will take longer. Everything worthwhile takes time. And if you already have a house, consider refinancing to a 15-year and at the very least, pick up on step 3 above.

And before you complain that my story is one in a million, it’s not. I know other people that have done this – different situations, same end result. Same freedom to pursue a Life on the High Wire. What do you think?

If Those Bentleys Run on French Fry Oil, That’s Another Story

Reader Margosita’s recent comment got me thinking about this process of building a dream life. It looks different for all of us, but I’m guessing nine times out of ten, the life you envision is possible. Champagne Wishes & Caviar Dreams may be good for a TV show, but the people I know want something simpler: safe, comfortable housing, enough money for good food, the occasional treat, and travel, and time to pursue meaningful projects. (Which could be starting a band, writing a book, or building houses in Sri Lanka.)

We’re not talking a 15,000-square-foot mansion and fleet of Bentleys. (Of course now that I say that someone will pop up and say, In fact, Deonne, that is exactly the Life on the High Wire I dream of. Overbuilt real estate and the ability to drain Kuwait of its oil reserves with one trip to the mall. To which I’d very kindly respond, What the f*** is wrong with you?)

In reality, you’re probably already on the path to your LOTHW. Your job isn’t terrible, and maybe it’s teaching you skills you can do something more interesting with later on. Or you love your volunteer gig as a reading tutor, but need to figure out how to translate that into paid work. Maybe you’ve even saved up a little money, but aren’t exactly sure what to do with it.

Good. That’s a start.

I’m a huge believer in the power of the Baby Step. One small move toward your goal. Then another. I’ve got a lot on my plate this year – work, teaching, studying – but here’s what I’m doing right now to get closer to my writing and traveling dream life:

Writing

Decide on a form for my thesis. Memoir, or collection of personal essays? Pick the one that has the most juice, the one I’m most interested in spending the next year with. Then start. For now, just start.

Travel

Travel takes money. Since I’m not sure how I’ll earn more (yet), I’ll start with cutting expenses. So, no shopping. No meals out. No more book buying unless it’s for class, and even then, I’m hitting the library first. I live pretty simply as it is, but this will help, and won’t be a big hardship with that travel carrot dangling out front.

What about you? What baby step could you take right now to get you closer to your Life on the High Wire? Let us know in the comments, and enjoy the long weekend.