Purity: It’s Not Just for Women

One of my female friends recently shared Lindy West’s article on Jezebel, “Female ‘Purity’ is Bullshit.” To her credit, she admitted that it was not a perfect article, but evidently, something about the piece resonated with her. It resonated with me, too, but perhaps in a different way.

Beneath all the requisite cussing and feminist outrage, it is clear that Ms. West is on to something: the odious double standard that exists in modern society vis-à-vis sexual purity on the part of men and women. West introduces the catalyst for her article, an apparently chauvinistic piece (though the link does not seem to work any longer):

I came across two things today that hurt to read. The first was a dumb collection of dumb shit written by a dummy, entitled “Why Good Girls Have Become As Extinct As Unicorns” (NSFW). In it, the anonymous male author explains that modern women are disgusting sluts who deserve to be taken advantage of, so if you manage to find a “good girl” (ideally by grooming her from kindergarten onward), you should legally cleave to her and imprison her in your bungalow posthaste before some other dude snatches up “your” prize. You can always cheat on her later when she gets “boring,” which she definitely will, because she’s not a person, she’s just a vagina. This is “the mindset of men in the 21st century.” Deal with it, ladies.

Unfortunately, I’m afraid that there is a lot of truth in that last bit. For whatever reason, we have accepted the idea that a man’s sexual prowess is a badge of honor while a woman’s is a scarlet letter. This simply won’t do, but not for the reasons Ms. West assumes. Her “comprehensive look at female purity and why it is bullshit” is rather, well… uncomprehensive, actually.

You Can Tell Something Is Bullshit If All of the Justifications for It Are Bullshit

Okay, guy, so why do you feel like you want/need/deserve to settle down with a “pure” woman? I’m genuinely listening.

West’s hypothetical conversation with your average Joe leans heavily on the physical aspect of things, though she does acknowledge his vague desire for certain character traits as well (though not without taking a random jab at southern, conservative Christians in the process). In the end, she unearths the man’s candid motivations:

“No! I just mean that I struggle with the same powerlessness and insecurity that all human beings do, so as a coping mechanism I take advantage of our culture’s patriarchal power structure and exorcize my feelings of worthlessness by perpetuating shame-based proprietary attitudes over women’s bodies. Basically I’m obsessed with controlling women’s lives because I can’t control my own.”

Now it’s my turn to call bullshit on this one.

If I were attracted to a girl, I think it is fair to allow me a little concern over her sexual history, not because of any stupid reasons about stretched out vaginas or sluts being gross. God help me if I ever make such a poor argument! No, it is fair that a man be concerned about a woman’s past for the same reason that she ought to be concerned about his: as it is unjust to consign all promiscuous women to the trashbin of “slut,” so is it equally unjust to brand all promiscuous men as “pigs.” Both are human beings with inherent dignity not contingent upon their sexuality.

As a man, I can’t deny that the thought of all those other men’s genitals inside my wife does cause me a certain visceral reaction, but that is merely my base nature protesting. Even a philosopher cannot spend his entire life in the abstract, so I’ll beg your indulgence for such a passing thought. Surely, this is not limited to the male psyche as there must be women out there who feel the same way about their husband’s body.

Even if men tend toward the physical and women toward the emotional, though, we are all physical and spiritual beings, and my concerns lie more in the realm of character. A person’s dignity may be independent of his sexual activity, but it is true that our physical actions can either affirm or deny that dignity. To put it another way, if you dressed up like a fool and started capering around on the sidewalk downtown, I’m not going to crucify you because you are still a human being with an inherent dignity that I must still respect, and yet your behavior cannot help but tell me something about your character. What you do without reflects what you are within. It is you who obscure your own dignity by acting in such an undignified manner, even if your dignity still remains within.

And so it goes with all other actions, especially with regards to sexuality.

Of course, I suppose if, like one of my coworkers, sex is as passé to you as shaking someone’s hand and holds no metaphysical component, then none of that should really matter. But for me, anyway, it’s about more than just atoms rubbing against each other; for me, that friction results in the spark of the transcendent.

Men Are Lying

Ms. West then asserts,

Men can’t actually care whether or not women are “pure,” because there is no way for “purity” to be verified. It’s just not a real thing, and chasing some phantom virtue for your entire life is a great way to ensure that you waste your goddamn life. By Professor Unicorn’s own admission, above, even if you claim to be “pure” he will probably just assume you’re lying, and even if you can somehow prove your purity he will get bored with you eventually anyway, because boner. This entire “conversation” is just an effort to rig a system in which men get to determine female worthlessness no matter the input. There is nothing you can do to be pure. Meanwhile, they get to do literally whatever they want with anyone, to anyone, at any time. The double standard is so blatant it’s almost too boring to point out.

I feel your pain, Ms. West, I really do. This man, at least, isn’t lying when he says that he has experienced the same frustration. In our culture where men are expected to be sexually experienced, how many girls do you think will believe me if I tell them that I have reserved my virginity for them? How do I know that a girl won’t get bored with me because I’m not as “experienced” as she is?

However, I have to disagree with the idea that purity is “just not a real thing” or that “there is no way for ‘purity’ to be verified.” Again, let us move above the realm of the physical and consider that, perhaps, purity is a disposition instead of a physical state. True, we may not be able to “prove” purity, but this attitude is reflective of the modern obsession with scientism. At the risk of sounding New Agey and overly sentimental, I believe that a discerning person can tell when he comes in contact with the divine, and what is purity but the presence of God living in someone’s soul? As a Catholic who takes Jesus at his word (or at least tries very hard to), I believe him when he says, “Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God.”

I know Ms. West would likely interpret such a passage as typically chauvinistic and patriarchal, but I apply this standard just as much to myself as I do to women: “³Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. ⁴ Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight” (1 Peter 3:3-4).

Watch this video, and tell me that we can’t know when someone radiates purity.

Women’s Unhealthy Choices Are Nobody’s Fucking Business

Everyone makes unhealthy choices sometimes.

Unfortunately.

Life is long and complex.

Ain’t that the truth?

Everyone has sex with partners they regret, and strays out of their comfort zone for the wrong reasons, and enters into self-destructive relationships with the best intentions. But those choices are unhealthy for the person making them, not for anyone else.

Er, not quite. At least personally speaking, at this moment in time, I do not fall into the category of “everybody.” And as convenient as it would be if the fallout of our own errors were limited to ourselves, this simply isn’t true. It’s a blunt analogy, I’ll admit, but the terrorists flying planes into skyscrapers engaged in “self-destructive” behavior that had serious consequences for thousands of other people. We would like our own sexual mistakes to be limited to ourselves, but that pain you were feeling earlier about the double standard? That’s proof right there that our decisions to have sex have consequences for our future sexual partners, too.

And those choices have no bearing whatsoever on anyone’s worth as a human being. Sometimes perspective, born out of pain, can actually make life richer. Your good choices are yours and your bad choices are yours too.

Ok, now you’re back on track! O felix culpa quae talem et tantum meruit habere redemptorem (O happy fault which merited for us so great a redeemer)! And this is the beauty of the God I know, in that he has the power to take even our sins and to pull some greater good from them.

So, Ladies (and Gentlemen!)…

I can wholeheartedly agree when West says,

Girls and women, if no one has ever told you this before, or if you just have trouble believing it: you are good, you are whole, you are yours. You do not exist to please men, and your value as a human being is not contingent upon your sexual capital.

And I offer my most sincere apologies for the behavior of so many men when I hear stories like this,

I got catcalled outside the coffee shop in the middle of writing this article—my brain mired in thoughts about purity and sexualization and objectification. A dude drove by in a car, leaned out the window, and yelled “EXCELLEEEEEENT!” (I will concede that it’s possible he just mistook me for Rufus.) So what is it—am I supposed to be modest and pure, or do I become a sexual commodity as soon as I step outside in a belted muumuu and janky flip-flops? Well, the two aren’t nearly as incongruous as they appear. A catcall is entirely about reminding you that you are not yours. The purity myth is entirely about reminding you that you are not yours. The fetishization of female purity in a world where catcalls are an acceptable form of communication telegraphs one thing very clearly:

“Women, stop sexualizing yourselves—that’s our job, and you’re taking all the fun out of it.”

Why a man would conduct himself promiscuously and then demand continence from his future wife, I will never be able to understand; I can only speak for myself, but I am a servant of Christ and Mary, and I hope (not expect or demand) that my future wife will have held herself to the same standard to which I hold myself. And if she hasn’t, then I pray for the grace to be able to take the log out of my own eye, since God knows my soul is not always pure, even if my body remains untouched.

Ms. West rightly senses that something has gone amiss in our culture, but she throws in the proverbial towel and concludes that women should be able to conduct themselves just as promiscuously as men and that purity is a pie-in-the-sky fairytale that should be ignored.

I, on the other hand, propose that the street runs both ways.

Gentlemen, I’ll leave you with some advice from St. Josemaria Escriva. “There is need for a crusade of manliness and purity to counteract and nullify the savage work of those who think man is a beast. And that crusade is your work.”

Ladies, there are still unicorns and shining knights out there. God knows I’m trying, and I’ll keep fighting. I hope, instead of “[fucking] all of it” like Ms. West advises, that you’ll keep fighting, too.

 

A Response to “Pushy Christians and People Who Disagree”

After reading “Pushy Christians and People Who Disagree” on Loren Zocosio’s Tumblr I See God in That, I found myself with mixed feelings. On the whole, I agree with Zocosio’s attitude that the best way to share the Good News is through gentle, loving respect for those whose beliefs differ from our own. Respect is good. Loving our neighbor is good. I hardly disagree with the premise of this argument.

However, the devil is, as they say, in the details, and being the overly-analytical, precise-to-a-fault nitpicker that I am, I can’t help but add a few caveats to Zocosio’s post.

While I believe Mr. Zocosio understands how to carry out the balancing act of hating the sin but loving the sinner, I’m not convinced that most other people have mastered that art yet, and I become wary when I see blithe statements like, “Our biggest mission is simply to love.”

A truism is a truism is a truism is a truism is a truism.

Well… not simply.

You see, we live in an era that talks a lot about “love” but hasn’t yet formed a consensus on what, exactly, “to love” entails.

I don’t take issue with Zocosio’s proposition that Christians preach the Gospel via their loving respect for non-Christians. The mature Christian knows how to love without compromising the truth. Yet, I so often hear people– especially people of my own generation– toss around phrases such as, “I believe in love” or “Live and let live” or the oft- and ever misquoted, “Judge not, lest ye be judged.”

So… basically 1 John, chapter 4…

We live in an era when relativism and apathy rule the day, and to take any sort of moral stance– even applied solely to one’s own life– is often interpreted as some sort of H8!-ful indictment of everyone who differs. Instead of hungering for the truth, many people would be content to just “coexist” instead of confronting their woundedness and seeking out the Great Physician– and I say “woundedness” because “woundedness” and “sinfulness” are one and the same: not rebellion against an arbitrary code, but an illness that is both contagious and curable. How easy it is to recall Jesus’ admonition, “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone” while conveniently forgetting his request to “Go, and sin no more.”

Perhaps it is this insistence upon “tolerance” that drives many Christians to their pushy proselytizing. In my experience, many conservatively-minded Christians feel rather– “besieged” would not be too strong a word– by the secular world and thus take the Great Commission even more seriously. Ironically enough, I have also met many politically liberal people who feel the same way about the religious right-wingers always trying to impose a theocracy upon America, as evidenced by this recent exchange with a friend of mine:

“What I don’t understand is this push, recently, to subjugate women and take away their rights and ban birth control–”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I said. “Who’s trying to ban birth control? Are you talking about the HHS mandate? Because I haven’t heard anything about anyone trying to make it illegal. All I know is that the Catholics and some other Christians just don’t want to have to pay for contraception in their insurance plans, not outlaw it.”

The conversation then veered into the topic of various pro-life (or anti-choice, depending on your parlance) bills which have been passed in several states, particularly regarding sonograms and trans-vaginal ultrasounds.

“I can’t believe how many of these politicians would support this very invasive procedure– I mean, say you’ve got a 14-year-old girl who’s been raped, and now they want to force her to undergo this trigger–”

“Well, I will fully admit my ignorance about how, exactly, a trans-vaginal ultrasound is performed, and I promise I will go research it because I wasn’t aware of it being “invasive,” but I think it’s rather extreme to assume that pro-life activists are trying to subjugate women when a pro-choice writer herself argued that her fellow abortion advocates should stop calling such ultrasounds rape. The point is, I have personal experience with these people, and I can assure you that they do not wake up each morning ruminating on how to force women back into the dark ages.”

I use this example to illustrate how beleaguered so many of us feel– whichever side we’re on– even if those perceptions are skewed. I was, however, dismayed by her assumptions about my friends’ motives because even though I am convicted that abortion is the murder of an innocent child and a grave violence to its mother, I recognize that most people who support it do not wake up each morning jazzed to go kill some babies. It is a rare person who can maintain his own belief that others are misguided while also recognizing and even rejoicing over their noble intentions, but that is precisely the kind of love I believe Zocosio is advocating.

Yes, we should respect others and let our actions speak more than our words, but we must not also fall into the safe and comfortable trap of letting heterodoxy pass as high-mindedness. True Christian love entails fraternal correction, though always in context. It’s easy to be that infernal salesman who ignores the “No Soliciting” sign on someone’s spiritual front door, but such an approach demonstrates a lack of trust in God’s grace and timing.

Personally, each morning I try to remember to ask God the Father to grant me an opportunity to manifest his love, the Holy Spirit to grant me the wisdom to recognise such an opportunity, and Jesus to grant me the courage and fortitude to carry it out cheerfully, and I am often surprised by how much other people will open up after they are assured I’m not out to “save” them.

I think my friend Laura sums it up well:

I know I have very strong views. I’m very Catholic, very pro-life, very conservative, etc., and I don’t compromise on that. If anyone asks me about those views, I’m more than willing to talk about them and explain them. However, I’ve never thought that flat-out telling people they are evil because they don’t believe or live exactly like I do was a good idea. Reason #1) I’m not the one who decides who’s evil and who’s going to hell. That’s God’s job. Reason #2) That’s not the way to earn trust and respect. That’s the way that people get ticked off and never listen to you (or anyone even remotely resembling you) ever again!

If they see my life and actions, hear my reasons, and decide that they want to follow… I will do everything I can to help. But when it comes to deciding how to live their lives, I can’t make that decision for them. Only they can.

Such an attitude is exactly in keeping with 1 Peter 3:15, which says, “But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect.” And by doing so, even when we are not actively preaching the Gospel, we can still make God very present by loving others where they are.

As my friend Betsy is fond of saying, “I have always thought that the purpose of my life is not to be a spotlight seeking to expose the darkness of other people’s sins, but to be like a lighthouse, constantly shining and unmoving, guiding them in the right direction.”

 

Where There is Love – A Reflection on the Boston Marathon Bombings

Pope Francis washes the feet of juvenile delinquents on Holy Thursday via http://www.catholic.org

One of my favorite Latin sayings is “Ubi caritas, Deus ibi est.” Where Love is found, there, also, is God.

There is a beautiful chant version of this phrase from the Taizé community, and for some reason, it has been coming to mind more and more often of late. I was meditating on the simplicity of this idea the other day, wondering how I could apply it more concretely to my daily life rather than just allowing it to float abstractly as a pretty aphorism through the clouds of my mind.

Today, I have found an answer to that question.

Only a few moments ago, I learned of the explosions in Boston at the finish line of the famous marathon. As I watched the videos of those bombs shattering the crowds gathered to cheer on the racers, my heart was in my throat. Then, the reports of the victims whose lower bodies have been maimed, then, the inevitable death count. The disbelief, then the shock, and finally the sense of powerlessness and fear I experienced were oddly reminiscent of the emotions I felt watching the attacks of September 11.

Watching those crowded sidewalks reminded me of all the times I have been in a similar situation. When I was watching the Bastille Day parade in Paris last July, or wading through the sea of Austinites waiting for the New Year’s ball to drop on 6th Street two years ago, how many potentially lethal trash cans or manholes did I stand beside?

What if that were me? Why is this allowed to happen again and again and again? Where is God, really?

Such questions are natural, I think, in the face of evil and suffering. We will likely never have an answer to these questions, but I believe I have found a hint: Ubi caritas, Deus ibi est.

In an era when the word “terrorism” has been sound-bitten to death, I am reluctant to trot it out, but the execution of these bombings appears designed to inspire fear– fear that at any moment, I might be an innocent bystander, cheering on the sidelines when suddenly, violence will be visited upon me. This instinct for self-preservation is understandable, but we must not concede to such fear! The power of these acts is deeply tied to their ability to make us withdraw into ourselves, to shrink from the world and all its attendant suffering. Yet to do so is to hand the perpetrators their victory.

Secondly, the randomness and senselessness of such violence can make us feel powerless to stop such increasingly common acts of evil. The world is a dark place, and it seems to be growing ever darker. What can I do– really– to stop such wanton destruction?

This simply won’t do.

“Perfect love casts out all fear, for fear involves punishment, and he who fears has not been made perfect in love,” says John. Far from closing us in on ourselves, love draws us up and out. If we have been fortunate enough to escape the bombings in Boston, then we must remember: this is not about me. Who can add a second to his life by worrying? Rather, I found myself asking: how can I help those affected by this tragedy? What creative, restorative good can I contribute to a community that has been blown apart by the destructive force of evil?

Although, in the wake of today’s tragic events I at first felt sad and powerless, I was struck with an inspiration. It is true that there is much evil prowling about the world, but I wield a power even greater than such forces for wickedness: I have the power to love. Every moment of every day, I have the ability to defy the darkness by freely choosing to exercise love. If love is an act of the will, and if it is true that “Where love is, there is also God,” then instead of passively waiting for evil to strike, I can by my very will make God present at any moment by an act of love!

My heart goes out to all of the victims of the bombings today, but far from being discouraged, it is bursting with the inspiration to be a better person, a holier person. If you want to stop the school shootings and the domestic abuse and the suicides and the wars and every other sort of evil darkening our days, then

Right here,

Right now,

Go love.

 

In Memoriam W. Tim Bartlett, Jr.

It was two years ago that my beloved Mr. Brian Jacques passed away. Now, I find myself saying goodbye to another man with a more personal connection to my life.

For the past twenty-eight years, my mother has worked with Mr. W. “Tim” Bartlett, Jr., owner of Bartlett’s restaurant in Austin. Since I last posted, I began working part-time at the restaurant as a greeter, but I grew up knowing Mr. Bartlett more as a friend than as a boss.

On the morning of February 2, 2013, Tim passed away peacefully in his sleep at only 61 years of age. I had spoken to him less than 24 hours before my mom broke the news to me on Saturday morning, and– needless to say– the announcement has been quite a blow to all of us at the restaurant.

Mr. Bartlett was “the best boss in the world,” according to many who have worked under his command, and I can personally attest that he has always taken care of not just my mom for her service to his business, but everyone who makes up the larger Bartlett’s family. Despite being the owner of a successful, upscale restaurant, Tim was always present in his place of business, never above helping out with a broom and dustpan or personally attending to his regular guests who came to support their favorite local restaurateur. Just a few weeks ago, while I was in the process of buying my first car, Tim was only too eager to connect me with his used-car dealer friend, even offering to go look at vehicles with me.

The suddenness of Tim’s death is, I think, both a blessing and a curse: the former because he was up and about in his restaurant, chatting with regulars just the day before he went instead of languishing through a terminal illness; the latter because of his youth and our inability to properly bid him adieu.

Mr. Bartlett’s death has reminded me of this quote by William Penn, founder of the colony of Pennsylvania:

“I expect to pass through this world but once. Any good therefore that I can do, or any kindness or abilities that I can show to any fellow creature, let me do it now. Let me not defer it or neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again.”

I am happy to say that in all the years I knew him, Tim embodied this philosophy to a “T.” His passing has reminded me of the fragility of life and its fleetingness, of the words we will hear next week on Ash Wednesday that “you are dust, and to dust you shall return,” and of the importance of doing our very best, expressing our love, and living our lives with energy and passion as did Mr. Bartlett.

Thank you, Tim, for everything. We will miss you even while your spirit carries on in the restaurant that bears your name here below, but I can’t wait to join you with the best of company at the eternal feast soon.

You can read Mr. Bartlett’s obituary in the Austin-American Statesman here.

Requiem aeternam dona ei, Domine, et lux perpetua luceat ei.

Requiescat in pace.

Amen.

 

Balancing Big Picture Brainstorming with Getting Down to Brass Tacks

Photo via ecooper99 Flickr

Some people can’t see the forest for the trees, but have you ever felt that you couldn’t see the individual trees because you were too occupied taking in the whole forest?

Sometimes, in the brainstorming phases of writing, the ideas are flowing, the big idea is clear in our mind’s eye, and we have no problem seeing the overall theme or message we want to convey. We might be going along with our day when we get a cool idea for a story; initially, everything seems to make sense, but when we sit down to really begin planning each scene, the going can get pretty tough.

It’s not often that I’ve liked getting into the details of any project, whether it’s planning a retreat, crunching the numbers on a new purchase, or even plotting a book. My high school English teacher once told me that I was a “big picture” person or an “ideas” person, which explains my aversion to doing math, and it’s true that I have always found mathematical concepts fascinating– whether I’m learning calculus or discussing quantum physics with my engineering friends– but I simply can’t be bothered to actually work out the details. This is hardly surprising, as I am an INTJ (Introverted, Intuitive, Thinking, Judgemental) personality type on the Myers-Briggs personality test, and my intuition and preference for holistic thinking lends itself to generating concepts rather than concrete details.

This way of thinking is necessary for most endeavors, especially writing; after all, you have to know what you want to say before you can properly say it.

However, there is a Japanese proverb which states,

“Vision without action is a fantasy… action without vision is a nightmare.”

There are a lot of would-be writers who seem to have no shortage of ideas for the next big thing but who never seem to act on that vision and write. On the other hand, a quick trip through Amazon’s indie published titles reveals that there are just as many people with the ability to hammer out a book but who seemingly have no vision directing their writing.

It would be too easy to say, “Well, I’m a visionary. I’m just no good at the nitty gritty.” And frankly, this seems rather lazy. Writing is a particular business, and it takes a rare breed of person– one who possesses both the free-spirited creativity necessary for generating ideas and the analytical, no-nonsense practicality of organisation and discipline– to do it well.

It’s true that we all have differing balances of right and left brain proclivities, but there are ways we can leverage our strengths to help shore up the areas where we’re weak and to trick our brains into thinking they’re playing when the task at hand would normally seem like work.

For example, yesterday, while I was feeling particularly stuck with plotting my current WIP, I did something I’ve never done before. Usually, I resort to mindmapping, but this time, I just began writing down impressions and words connected to the scene I had in mind without circling or drawing connections between them. In this way, I created a sort of “cloud” where I could see the overall “feel” of the scene I needed to write, but I didn’t bother trying to draw connections between them until my subconscious tired out and the flow of ideas dried up.

In the past, at this point, I would have probably tried to jump into writing the scene, but the problem is that I still only have an impression: I can kind of see what the scene needs to be, but it remains shimmering, effervescent, and vague.

So instead, I then turned to a new page in my notebook and, still in that creative state of mind, began writing in linear fashion the progression of events in the scene. I was still pulling ideas from the air, but now that I had an impression of what the scene would be, it was easier to focus my creativity into coming up with individual events that would be plausible within the scene. Now, I have a list of targets to hit as I progress through writing the first draft.

I like to think of this method of brainstorming as “telescoping,” much the same way you can go to Google Earth and look at a map of the whole United States to get the big picture, then you can zoom in to your particular city to see the roadmap of where you’re going, and finally, you can enter Street View to get an on-the-ground perspective.

Similarly, we can first come up with the big idea for what we want to write, then we can organise those ideas into something resembling a roadmap for the draft, and finally, when it comes time to write the prose, we put ourselves actively into the scene and fill in the details on the level of sentences and paragraphs.

I’m going to tweak this method and see how it works for other scenes, but for now, I feel much more prepared to write the first draft.

How do you go about planning a piece? How would your process differ for blog posts versus fiction? Do you prefer to work backwards, writing scenes from the ground up and later organising them into a big idea for a story?

 

Going Pro in 2013

Image via Nemo from Pixabay

I came back from France on December 20 planning to spend Christmas taking it easy with my family with the intention of starting my search for work in earnest after New Year. So far, I’ve gotten the “taking it easy” bit crossed off my list of things to do for 2012, but it’s 2013 now, and I’ve got a whole new list of things to accomplish this year.

Much to my chagrin, we’re already a week into the new year, and I have barely written anything. Despite my weak start to pursuing my writing resolutions, I did have an epiphany the other day while I was writing some more on the current WIP:

If I want to go pro about writing– and I do– I’m going to need a better system. Actually, to put it more accurately, I’m going to need to be more disciplined. For so long, I’ve admired the authors in my Twitter feed selling their books on Amazon or fellow bloggers like Kristen Lamb and Matthew Wright publishing post after post, chastising myself for my limited productivity, but– oddly enough– not doing much to improve said abysmal productivity.

In fact, Kristen’s recent post about talent being cheaper than table salt struck me particularly hard when she was recounting an encounter she had with an old acquaintance. He kept lamenting that he couldn’t be an author because he was “so ADD,” but in typical Kristen fashion, she told him point-blank,

This time, instead of trying to help or agreeing with his excuses or offering to be his support buddy to make him stay on task, I said, “No, you don’t have ADD. You lack maturity and discipline.

They say the first step to correcting a problem is admitting you have one, so I hereby publicly confess to you:

I have a time-management problem.

Happily, I also have a plan to:

• Keep a professional work schedule

Photo courtesy of mnapoleon

When I was working full-time in Paris, I had to get up around the same time every morning and make sure I was on the metro by 9:00 a.m. or else I’d be late to work. I may not have a job to go to at the moment, but for now, I’m making writing my full-time job while I look for other ways to generate an income.

In the past, I’d take a stab at writing whenever I’d have free time, but I hardly ever produced anything, and I never produced anything on a consistent basis. Now, I may not have a boss breathing down my neck, but I’m treating writing with the same responsibility I would if I still had to get on that metro every morning. Getting my mom up to speed on Downton Abbey this past weekend didn’t help this morning (sacrifices must be made…), but from now on, I’m getting in bed by 10:30, lights out by 11:00 at the latest. That alarm goes off at 6:30, so I’d better be out of bed by 7:00 at the latest.

• Use my calendar and timer

Another aspect of my full-time job at the embassy entailed working five days a week on many different projects with varying deadlines. I’ve had this nifty little app on my computer since I got it, and I’ve barely put it to use. Now, I’m filling in my writing schedule alongside other things like choir practice and job interviews exactly as if it were my personal planner at my previous job.

Speaking of deadlines, it’s astounding how much more productive you can be when you have a looming deadline– even a tiny one. While I was writing a new scene for my WIP the other day, I was using ten minute magic, where I set my little egg timer for ten minutes, set my Scrivener window to full screen, and just wrote. Lo and behold, I actually wrote a little over 1,300 words in an hour thanks to that little kick in the pants. In the past, I would sit down at my desk and try to write, and often, I would end up writing nothing after several hours– usually because I had gotten distracted– which leads me to my next goal…

• Kill Facebook

I’m appalled by how often I find myself lost in the endless tracts of Facebook’s newsfeed. I usually have hardly any notifications, so there’s no real reason for me to visit. Now, when it’s writing time, the book of faces will be shut. Come to think of it, the whole internet will be shut.

• Set measurable goals

One of the things I loved about NaNoWriMo was the plethora of word-counting widgets and progress bars, and I was thrilled to discover a similar built-in feature of Scrivener. Now, when I start a writing session, I can set my wordcount goal and watch the bar move while I type. Even when I’m not writing the actual prose for a WIP, I can set goals to “brainstorm X number of scenes by Wednesday” or “interview the protagonist and supporting sidekick by the end of today.” This way, instead of dithering in the face of the seemingly endless task of writing a story, I can constantly be aiming for and completing a series of more immediate goals.

How do you plan to go pro in 2013? What are your methods to the madness of time-management?

 

Deo Gratias

I am a melancholic soul.

Brooding incessantly, pondering mysteries that don’t even penetrate the consciousness of most people, yearning deeply for the ideal yet prone to bouts of depression that come perilously close to the brink of despair when greeted with disappointment, I have the unfortunate tendency to perceive the world darkly, as a glass even less than half-empty.

I think we all experience, from time to time, that painful void, that ache for what the French call the au-delà– that which lies beyond the here and now, though I suspect that melancholics tend to feel this pang more acutely than most. No matter how charmed someone’s life may seem, no matter how temporally wealthy a man may be, even the richest among us is a pauper in comparison to the infinite goodness and richness of God, who is the font of every blessing. We can be aware of what we have, but we can’t help but also acknowledge the dissatisfaction we experience while we remain exiles in this vale of tears– “restless,” as St. Augustine puts it, “until our hearts rest in You, O God.”

Recently, I was talking with one of my friends who posed a question that struck me rather hard:

“What are you lacking?”

As I started to answer the question, much to my chagrin, I realised that what had been tying me in knots and causing me such bitterness was really only a handful of desires I had magnified by dwelling on them, to the exclusion of the numerous blessings beside which my deficits paled in comparison.

So, in the interest of fulfilling my New Year’s resolution to be a more positive person and thanks to (pun intended) our cherished American holiday, I have reflected upon those blessings for which I am grateful:

• For another day of life in addition to the 22 years I have already been given, another opportunity to choose life instead of death, to do my very best, and to keep striving toward sanctity in closer union with God.

• For the opportunity to come back to France, my adopted country, and realise the dream of a lifetime by living in Paris, the City of Lights and haunt of some of my most admired literary heroes.

• For the extraordinary opportunity to do not just one, but two internships back-to-back at the embassy immediately after graduating. Despite their unpaid nature, a year ago today, I hadn’t even imagined I would be in Paris in such a remarkable position gaining an invaluable experience in my field of study immediately after graduating.

• For the many kind coworkers and friends I have made here in France, who have shown me the soft interior of the “French coconut;” like their whitewashed, Haussmanian boulevards concealing their cozy apartments or their frigid, Gothic cathedrals whose stained-glass windows are only illuminated when viewed from within, their cool, exterior elegance belies their warm hospitality for this American abroad.

• For my many friends from school and my family, who are easy to discount when they are so far away, but whose influence has helped lead me to where I am today, and whose support has been invaluable during these sometimes lonely months abroad.

• For my physical health and my keen mind gifted with a sensitivity and curiosity for languages, history, and interpersonal connections, which have blessed me with broadened horizons early in life and inspire me to continue to seek whatever is true, noble, right, pure, lovely, and admirable in this beautiful world.

• For my propensity for communication, which has allowed me to become part of another culture via its language and for the gift of technology, which allows me to communicate with my loved ones at home as well as you, my dear readers, whose support and readership I cherish.

I shall leave you with a couple of quotes about thanksgiving and some of my favorite hymns expressing my gratitude. Thank you all for your presence in my life.

Happy Thanksgiving!

“To be grateful is to recognize the Love of God in everything He has given us – and He has given us everything. Every breath we draw is a gift of His love, every moment of existence is a grace, for it brings with it immense graces from Him. Gratitude therefore takes nothing for granted, is never unresponsive, is constantly awakening to new wonder and to praise of the goodness of God. For the grateful person knows that God is good, not by hearsay but by experience. And that is what makes all the difference.” -Thomas Merton

“True happiness is to enjoy the present, without anxious dependence upon the future, not to amuse ourselves with either hopes or fears but to rest satisfied with what we have, which is sufficient, for he that is so wants nothing. The greatest blessings of mankind are within us and within our reach. A wise man is content with his lot, whatever it may be, without wishing for what he has not.” -Seneca

“The poor man shuddered, overflowed with an angelic joy; he declared in his transport that this would last through life; he said to himself that he really had not suffered enough to deserve such radiant happiness, and he thanked God, in the depths of his soul, for having permitted that he, a miserable man, should be so loved by this innocent being.” -Victor Hugo