Thursday, April 21, 2016

Morning Wogs

Another day, another run. 2 days in a row, I have left the house for a wog (walk/jog, since my toes are sprained and all this exercise causes my back to seize), audio book in my ears and my mind slowing churning up ideas.  This week's book is Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert.  

As I wog, ideas and thoughts come in and float out of my head as I try to figure out how to hold on to them until I get home.  

Usually when I leave the house, I debate whether to bring a notebook or not, since by my Paul Frank Crying Tiger notebook won't fit in my pocket.  I bought the notebooks years ago in an attempt to always carry one with me to never miss those glimmers of inspirations.  I say notebooks, because after working for a Young Playwrights Workshop one summer and sitting in with the kids as they listened to successful writers I knew I needed to do this.  The playwright, Larissa Fasthorse, was telling the kids that the she carries a particular style of notebook with her at all times, me, and when she finishes one, she can keep them all neat and tidy.  I loved this!  I'm all about neat and tidy, so when I found a cool looking notebook, on sale, I bought 4 of them.  I blame my inner thrifty hoarder for this purchase. Thinking I could easily fill these little bricks in no time.  I am currently on book 2 of 4, with 2/3 of the pages filled and a whole lotta year left to go.  I thought each book would be filled within months, but book 2 was started in 2014.  I rarely look back at the notes, but when I do, it makes me smile to think of the brilliance that I can spout and it makes me want to write more.  But back to my wog.

I don't bring a notebook because my pockets are already filled.  I carry my iPhone 6plus so I can take pictures for my daily Instagram, my 5th generation ipod that is filled with all my audio books, keys and some cash so I can pick up a coffee on my way home.  My pockets bulge with tech.  I tried to bring my iPhone 4 yesterday since it's smaller, but heavy and the pictures weren't as awesome as I wanted.  I also have an Apple Shuffle, that would replace my ipod, thats I want to try next but I 'm not sure it will help.

So every morning I wrestle with this problem. Too much tech. I remember the days when I would just head out the door in shorts and a tshirt and run.  Now I have my Garmin pedometer on my wrist, a Dryfit visor to keep the sun off my face, sunglasses, a baby fanny pack to hold my keys and money and if I'm lucky some type of media player, and my phone that I carry in my hand, because, well it ginormous.   And now that I am a couch surfing nomad, I am trying to reduce my tech footprint even more.  Not because I don't love it, but because it gets heavy carrying that crap around and trying to get through security all the time, forget about all the different cables and wires I need for each piece and all the electricity I need to run it.  The environmentalist in me, that I thought died long ago, pops his head in and reminds me again of simpler times.

How do I solve this problem?   Endless hours are lost online, searching for the perfect solution for me. Distracting me from the real issue. Figuring out what this new life of mine is supposed to be. Figuring out what to do next in life.  After listening to all these audio books, it has helped me realize that this is a new opportunity and I should embrace it, not fight it.  It is life helping figure this shtuff out. Finally a sign from the universe.  I don't know where my head is right now.  It is filled with constant noise and chatter.  Being a nomad means sometimes being alone, so I have a lot of conversations with myself.  Sometimes you have to be still and listen and trust.  Something I have a hard time doing and all these conversations with myself is helping me figure out why.

So these daily wogs are helping clear my brain as well as making me want to write it all out.  Blog about it.  Because in all my online queries, I am always hoping I find a kindred spirit that has gone through this before.  But people don't seem to want to share their struggle, because it's not pretty. I like the ugly.  No one ever wants to see it or talk about.  I'm not meaning to be a downer.  This is the shtuff, this is real life, and yes it can be happy.

'til next time