Sunday, December 2, 2018

Enough vs. Plenty

Hello Invisible Audience,

I am going to admit something major: I am not perfect.

This is hard to say, because I try really hard to present myself as if I am. It’s hard to say, because I struggle a lot with living up to my own expectations for myself, which are much more stringent than the expectations that anyone else would put on me. I find myself having arguments with myself all the time: well, Morgan, you don’t have kids, so you clearly have more time than most people you know. You’re sitting here writing, so you could be working instead. It’s not really that much extra work, is it? You can just do it.

Frankly, Invisible Audience, that’s an exhausting way to live. I know I’m not the only one who feels this way – there are a number of people I know who struggle with the same issues. A lot of us hear a common rejoinder: it’s enough. What you’re doing is enough. But you know what, Invisible Audience? I’ve always hated that answer. Because enough seems like just barely enough to get by. I am a writer after all, so I get really hung up in the details and literal translations. Enough is just…not enough. I want plenty. I want people to know that I have accomplished plenty today. Not just enough, but more than enough – enough for it to satiate, to overflow, for it to be more than enough.

Is this overkill? I think not, Invisible Audience. You see, it feels like I’ve been told forever that I should be grateful for what I have, even when it hasn’t felt like there was enough. There are starving children in Africa, after all, and we should all be really lucky for what we have. The only way I’ve ever been able to wrap my head around how lucky I feel, though, is when I think about what I have in terms of plenty.

I have plenty of food.
I have plenty of friends.
I have plenty of work to do that pays me.
I have plenty of love from my cat at 6 am, before I am ready to get up.

For some reason, plenty works better for me than enough. And lately, I’ve been enjoying plenty of everything: plenty of work, plenty of friendships, and plenty of things that take up my time. I do wish for plenty of rest, but I’m working on that, Invisible Audience. I’m working on it being ok to not have a plan, or an objective, every minute of every day.  
It used to be that I had a lot of health issues that would keep me from being as productive as I wanted to be. It’s been a long, long journey, but I’m finally to the point where I have the energy to work, so now it’s about creating a different expectation for myself. I want it to be ok to not have to work all the time. I want it to be ok to have more fun; revel in more sunsets; spend more time looking at the stars.

But for now, I have plenty, Invisible Audience. And that’s all I want to ask for.

Love and plenty of kisses,

Sunday, November 18, 2018

It's Time.

Hello, Invisible Audience.

You wouldn’t know it from my radio silence, but I’ve been thinking about you. I think about writing a lot – truth be told, I do actually write a lot, although clearly not much here, in this space, to you. It’s been years since I wrote to your regularly, and quite awhile since I even wrote to you at all.

I’m not sure if this will be the start of more regular writing, but I am a big believer in divine timing, and I woke up a couple days ago with a thought: it’s time. It’s time to write again, out loud.

There are a lot of reasons I haven’t before now. I could tell you all of them, but really, the details aren’t that important in the grand scheme of things. I remember reading once that Joanne Harris, one of my favorite authors, stopped writing a book once to have a baby. She said she could either birth the baby or the book, and chose her daughter first. She finished and published the book later. No, I haven’t had any children since I last wrote, but certainly I have birthed a lot in the interim. But I digress. This post isn't about why I wasn't writing. It’s about right now, and how now it's time to start again.

I have to admit that I imagined I’d be different when I wrote again. When I thought about it, I thought I would be writing from a place of burning passion; as a warrior who has conquered her fears and her foes and stands ready to impart words of wisdom on those who need the encouragement. Well, that’s not what I feel. Instead, I acutely feel the chaos of the world we’re living in. I hate news feeds and news because it makes me feel helpless and hopeless. Many days I want to crawl in a hole and wait for the world to right itself before I come out again. Nevertheless, it feels like it’s time to write again, so maybe that’s never what I was supposed to be anyway. Instead of having aspirations as a leader, all I can muster is a distinct inability to follow anymore. I no longer hear someone speak with conviction and assume they know what they’re talking about. Instead, I take their words and hold them up to my own idea of right and wrong -- to my ideas of integrity, compassion and bravery -- and I see if they gel. And frankly, I find that I’m gelling less and less with what I hear around me – from anyone. Maybe that means nothing…or maybe it’s the biggest sign of growth I’ve ever had.

It’s tough for me to feel like I don’t have all the answers, or a way forward. It’s tough to stand in the middle of the fire and hope that there’s a way through and a way out, even if I don’t yet know what it is. It’s hard for me to say, “It’s time, I know it. I know it’s time to write out loud,” and yet feel like I have nothing noteworthy or inspiring to say. My biggest realization for this first post is simply this: I’m here. I’m confused. I’m scared. Also, I’m hopeful.

Is that enough, Invisible Audience? It will have to be. Cheryl Strayed said once that it’s no writer’s job to write the bestselling novel; instead, it is our job to write the shitty first draft. Well, here it is. It’s time. I don’t know what for, but I know that my words must once again be written out loud. For now, that has to be enough.

Love and just in time kisses,