Once I'd made the firm decision to leave teaching, so I could dedicate myself full time to writing, I knew I also needed to make a plan both to ease myself into a life-changing routine and to make that routine a permanent fixture in my life. During the thirty years in which I was teaching, I was also trying to write because it's always been my passion and my one true calling, but teaching consumed my life. Add being a mom and all that entails into the mix, and there often truly wasn't time -- the needed time -- to write.I've always told my students that we make time for what matters to us. I would tell them this when they would give me their myriad excuses as to why they didn't get something done or why they weren't at one-act practice or why they couldn't be counted on to help run the concessions stand, etc. So, if they couldn't make the time to do the things they were supposed to be doing, that showed, by and large, that those things didn't really matter to them because we all have a finite amount of hours in the day; yet some people manage to do a lot with those hours while others do fairly little.
Even though I would tell my students that and even though I was highly productive in my job and extremely reliable for completing projects and being where I was supposed to be, when it came to the one real thing that I wanted to make the time for, I really wasn't doing that. I would try, believe me, I would definitely try, but the demands of my teaching career simply kept interfering with the time I wanted to use for writing. By the time I'd get home after a full day of teaching followed by coaching one-act or directing a play late into the evening, there were days it was already ten o'clock or later, and I still needed to go to bed to get enough sleep to wake up and repeat the cycle.
Needless to say, my writing life languished. I did manage to write some, of course, but there was no regularity to it, and that's what I needed. That's what my writing needed. That's what it needs now, and that's what I'm finally giving it.
So, when I knew for certainty that I was going to retire from teaching, I wrote the quote pictured above onto one of three light blue journals. In those journals, I record what I accomplish for my writing career every day. The quote is to remind me that sometimes it's okay to not accomplish a lot; as long as I'm actually accomplishing something every day. That way, I do not stop.
Since I'm a goal setter, I decided to adapt what I call the "Chandler approach" from a character on my second favorite TV series, "Friends." Oddly enough, today, the day I'd planned to write this blog post, the very episode in which Ross uses this approach on Chandler was airing during the time I sit down to lunch. In it, Chandler is freaking out, as he often does, and as I often do, because he's overwhelmed by the massive change in his life that he is facing on his wedding day. All he can see is the vast scariness of the future, so his friend, Ross, manages to get him to focus on the little, easy to manage, steps leading up to the wedding. 
Chandler wants to get married. He wants it very badly, but he's overwhelmed. By doing one small thing at a time, he manages to get himself to the altar and get married. First, he takes a shower. Nothing scary there. It's a routine he's familiar with. Next, he gets himself to the wedding locale. Then, he puts on his tuxedo. These are the steps shown in the episode, but one could break them down even more minutely. Eventually, his goal is met, and he's married. He can now use this approach to help him deal with future scary events because there will be many, many more. After all, he's now a married man.
Anyway, what does this have to do with writing? Well, I have so many goals and hopes for what I want to write that it's extremely overwhelming. Where do I start? How can I possibly accomplish everything I want to do? As with any large task, sometimes we completely avoid doing it because it is just too massive to imagine ever finishing it.
I want to write and be published and read. I've already accomplished that to a small degree with The Clearwater House and State of Georgia . . . and Other Writings as well as with my regular column, feature articles, two blogs, and other things, but now I want to make it my career, and I'm going it alone. I don't have a boss telling me what I have to do, I don't have state standards to adhere to, I don't have classrooms of kids expecting me to show up over and over with new material, I don't have parents looking over my shoulder to see if I'm doing a good job, and I don't have a place I absolutely have to be by a certain time each day.
I'm on my own.
That's both the most thrilling thing for me and the most terrifying. The thrilled part of me is ready and raring to go every day. The terrified part needs some structure. That's why I decided to Chandlerize my life.
In the journal, I must record one thing I do every day to move my writing career forward. One thing, at the very least. Every single day. It can be writing an email to a library director, writing another chapter (or even just 100 words) of my novel-in-progress, writing my column, writing another blog post, writing down the many story ideas I always seem to get while showering, editing one of my two finished books, replying to emails regarding my writing, promoting my writing in some form, etc.
Once I've managed to do that one thing, I usually do more -- some days, I do so much that I only stop when total exhaustion sets in. Whatever I accomplish concerning my writing life, though, goes in the journal. The journal then becomes a physical proof of how far I've come since I began, so when the demon called Doubt shows up, I can open the journal and read through what I've done so far. Within a few pages, Doubt has moved on to bother someone else, and I'm back to moving my writing career forward.
Chandlerizing is the same as saying "take baby steps" to complete something or using the "one drop at a time to fill the bucket" approach, but I like to think of it this way because I've always related to Chandler. He loves to make people laugh, and it bothers him when they don't. He and I use a lot of sarcasm. 
He worries about things he can't control. He hates his job and really wants to be doing something else (I related when I was teaching; now, I'm good). He hates having photos taken of him, and so do I. He's incredibly handsome, and, well, I'm incredibly humble. Ha! Thanks to my Chandlerizing technique, could I BE any more productive? Well, yes, I'm sure I could, but it has helped me be productive every single day, and that's what counts right now.
Maybe I'll dedicate a future book to him, but first I'll have to write that book. One day at a time. One piece at a time. One word at a time. Chandlerize!!!
No comments:
Post a Comment