I have something to admit.
I am a list whore.
I love making them, bringing order to chaos. I love the rush of satisfaction I get crossing off items. I even love Excel, which allows me to sort my lists in a myriad of ways with the click of a button.
And what better season for a list maker than the New Year, prime time for writing down all those things we wish to change or accomplish in the coming 12 months! Resolutions, though, are only as good as our ability to put them into action, so this year I’m taking some time to dig deeper and explore what I need to actually make change happen in three specific areas – one creative, one practical, one spiritual.
Morning Pages
I was first introduced to the idea of “morning pages” in The Artists Way. Author Julia Cameron describes them as “three pages of longhand, stream of consciousness writing, done first thing in the morning.” Over the years, I have found them to be an invaluable tool in clearing out the clutter from my brain, which then allows me to get on with the more structured, creative writing my work requires. However, even though I know how useful morning pages can be, I still find myself going through periods where I’m a total slacker. Motherhood has only complicated this, as Curly Girl is an early riser and likes to jump into our bed and gleefully declare, “It’s morning time!” at the first peek of daylight.
So what will motivate me to take time to journal? The answer I’ve come up with is pretty shallow: a cool notebook. Sometimes it’s just that simple. I’ve always loved paper (yes, I was that gal who totally obsessed over her wedding invitations) and having a beautiful or funky book in which to write actually inspires me to put pen to paper out of sheer pleasure. A few suggestions for those of you who might be similarly motivated:
- I’m currently in a nostalgic phase and have been using these retro-style “Decomposition” notebooks for my morning pages. They remind me of elementary school and that hopeful feeling I used to get every September.
- Other places I love to look for notebooks: Paper Source, which has a variety of whimsical notebooks; Levenger, whose selection tends to be more formal; and Rhodia, a French company whose orange and black pads have a cult following. And of course, the usual suspects like Barnes and Noble and art supply stories, which carry everything from unlined sketch pads to Moleskine notebooks to flower-covered diaries.
- Overwhelmed by the idea of writing three full pages a day? Start small with the One Line a Day Journal. If you need a prompt to get you going, see if The Happiness Project Journal or the Jane-A-Day Journal can kickstart your writing with their daily quotes. While I’m guessing Julia Cameron wouldn’t approve, I say anything that gets you started on the path of a regular habit is worth a try.
- Maybe it’s not about the notebook – it’s about the writing implement. Tap into your inner child with this crayon-style roller ball pen. Or rock your thoughts with rainbow-style thin tip pens and let your mood inspire your color choice each morning.
Clearing the Clutter
I’m nostalgic. I’m afraid of forgetting things. I’m a good note taker.
Separately, these are all lovely, interesting qualities. Put them together, and it’s a recipe for a clutter-tastic home and workspace. Every year, I’ve made the resolution that I will become neater, that I will clear the papers off my desk at the end of each day, that I will take 10 minutes to file away everything into its proper folder. But here’s the reality – I just don’t work that way. My mind organizes things in piles, and when I can see things laid out in front of me, I know I need to complete them. Plus, now that I have a child, I’ve become one of those moms that wants to keep every single art project, and that only adds to the mess.
What I’ve learned is that I need to find a way to de-clutter that complements my process. I need to find a compromise between my desire to have things look nice and my need to have information and memories at my fingertips. A few ideas for 2014:
- Make the scanner my friend. Even though I am a practically married to my smartphone, somehow I still manage to wind up with countless scraps of paper containing pieces of random information. The name of the casting director’s assistant from that commercial audition from 2009. The phone number of the magazine editor looking for new science writers. The title of the play I read about in the magazine at the doctor’s office. I have started to scan these bits into bytes on a weekly basis, and then save them in the appropriate file on my computer. It’s a great way to get rid of some of the clutter without making me feel like I’m losing the information.
- Project bins and cabinet doors. One consistent element of my work is research, whether it’s for a role, a hosting gig or an article I’m writing. That research usually ends up taking the form of piles of folders and notebooks. In an attempt to liberate the dining room table from my piles, I’m currently on the hunt for shelves with a cabinet door and some coordinated bins. While I may not be willing to file every night, dumping the project into its own bin is certainly doable…and then it can hide behind closed doors. When a project is over, I can then either permanently file the materials or box them up and put them into storage.
- Art storage frames. When my daughter first started bringing home her masterpieces from preschool, we proudly taped them on the fridge. When we ran out of space, we started dumping them in a drawer. Which also soon grew full. A friend recommended a storage-style frame that allows you to display your child’s latest creation, but can also store up to 50 drawings inside the frame. Curly Girl now loves seeing her artwork “on the wall like a real painting!!!”, and I haven’t had to sacrifice the momma part of me that wants to hang onto concrete memories of this time in her life.
Community: Err on the Side of Presence
This past year at Yom Kippur services, my Rabbi, Sharon Brous, delivered a moving sermon called “The Amen Effect” about loneliness, with the takeaway message of “Err on the side of presence.” The basic gist of it – or at least what I responded to – was the idea that all too often we are afraid to extend ourselves, to connect, yet it is this very action that can imbue our lives with deep meaning.
The entertainment industry is one that often consists of intense yet fleeting relationships, as projects cycle in and out. Often these friendships are tinged with competition and scarcity, the sense that “If she/he gets the role or job that I want, I will never move forward.” It’s an industry where erring on the side of presence can often feel like a career hazard.
One of the first theater roles I landed in L.A. was a part understudying a woman named Kellie Waymire. I was very young and ambitious, and she was extremely generous in letting me hang around during her rehearsals, sharing her blocking notes and even lending me her personal props when I took over the role after she left the show.
A few years later, she was doing another show which I had plans to see. I was excited to reconnect, for I had realized that during our show together, I had probably been a bit of a pest, hungrily waiting for my chance to go on, very much the stereotypical understudy. I wrote Kelly a letter, which I planned on giving to her after the show, thanking her for her patience in dealing with my youthful over-enthusiasm and telling her how much I had learned from her during the run of our show together. Sadly, I never got to give it to her. Before I could see the play, she tragically passed away at the age of 36 from an undiagnosed heart condition.
Brous’s sermon reminded me to approach this business with the spirit of generosity that Kelly possessed. Let someone know when he or she has inspired you. Don’t worry about seeming foolish or silly when someone’s affected you. Allow for the possibility of abundance rather than scarcity. In this case, the tool that will allow me to keep this resolution isn’t a pretty object or storage method – it’s the willingness to be vulnerable and admit how much my relationships matter.
As we head into the heart of 2014, I wish all of you the opportunity to realize the changes you are seeking, and hold near and dear the things that matter most.