Yes, it really is morning. Usually I go to bed around six am (because I’m a night shift kind of girl) but tonight I wrote and wrote and wrote until my poor little fingers were so tired and my brain just couldn’t function anymore and I took a fifteen minute nap, then I woke up, turned the laptop back on and decided I was ready for round two. It’s nine in the morning and I still haven’t been to bed and I feel wonderful!
It’s amazing what a good mood can do for you mixed together with lack of sleep and the joy of reaching 127,357 words AND knowing you only have two or three chapters left till the story is actually finished, completed, ended, [inserts other words for 'oh, my gods, I'm almost done!' here].
It’s such a pretty thought, so shiny and tempting that I have no clue what to do with it but run around in circles right now. I was telling my husband last night that I really, honestly, believe I might cry when I finish the book. It’s not an if anymore, it’s a when. I don’t think I’ve ever been able to say that about one of my longer pieces since I happen to suffer from a chronic case of ADOSSO.
Attention Deficit… Oh, shit! Shiny object! Pardon the curse, lol, it’s something Kei and I came up with together while attempting to get up early the next day after staying up till noon writing (to clarify: we woke up, started writing, and didn’t go to sleep till lunch time the next day) and we were feeling rather goofy and random. To be honest I don’t know why people need drugs, if they’d just deprive themselves of sleep doing something they love, deprive a good friend along with them, then force each other into consciousness the next day they’d be whacked out all the time. I mean, given I’m bound to be cranky when I first wake up but while I’m trying to fall back asleep it’s like the little net that catches all the things I don’t mean to say while I’m awake is damaged. Even better- because of my lack of sleep and recent visit to dreamland my motor skills are generally suffering and sometimes saying a word with more than two syllables is a bit of a challenge… so yeah, I don’t need drugs. I’m weird enough as is.
Anyways back to topic…
I had a topic?
Oh yes, finishing my novel. I can no call it a novel without thinking I’m stealing some catch phrase because even at size twelve font I’m numbering at over 500 pages right now. I know I’d be wasting trees if I did it but the urge to print it out when I’m all done just so I can hug the bulk of it is tremendous. Fortunately my husband has talked me into waiting until it’s gone through at least the first edit and then using the ‘CreateSpace’ offer from the NaNo to get a single bound copy for myself and then I can merrily accuse them of killing of innocent trees just so I can hug my novel.
I can hardly believe that the month isn’t even over yet (though I’m glad it’s not), it just seems like this has been the longest month of my entire life. Even thinking back to last years NaNo, it was nothing like this for me. I mean it was still crazy, awesome, inspiring, and finger numbingly wonderful but there is a definite difference. See, last year I used the NaNo as a means of forcing myself back into the writing world. When afraid to walk down the stairs go jump off a cliff so to speak to prove it’ll only hurt if… hmm…. that analogy was in my head and then as I was typing it I lost my train of thought and I can’t remember when I was going.
So, yeah, last year was a reintroduction into what I love, this year I’ve already been baptised so to speak and I’m no longer testing the waters but jumping in and swimming like a fish. I live and breath writing. :) I think it also helps having another writer in the house to compete with, it’s in my nature to try and type faster and hit the word counts faster if I can and if I can’t it gives me something to aim for like a mini game amongst the great challenge.
Even more so was all the encouragement my wonderful Husband keeps giving and his patience in my antics every thirty minutes or so when I busted another thousand out and had to tell him all about it. Both my brothers even helped push me along though I’m not sure they know it. I’ve been posting my latest and greatest word counts on my instant messenger the entire time and little did I know till recently that they were both following along and it surprised me when now and then they’d leave me a little message to go for it and such. It’s kind of cool how even though they don’t get along, or even talk, to each other how they can come together for me on this one thing. It makes smile.
Now for a random page from 365 Tao
“Do your devotions make you happy?
Is your life a joyous song?”
On this page Deng mentions while speaking of spiritual devotion that “it is unfortunate that so much coercion, unhappiness, bitterness, guilt, and fear become wrapped up in spirituality.” He goes on to talk about how being devoted to whatever you consider spiritual in your life, the thing you live for, or whatever churns your soul- it should make you happy and that it should be a celebration not a grudging ritual and I wholeheartedly agree. It’s difficult to explain without typing down what he said here and as my glasses are missing and I’m doing what quoting I am doing most from my head- you’ll just have to settle with my poor explanation.
When I read this earlier, this random page I turned to in a moment of contemplation I had a thought surface brightly in my head like the sun dancing up over the horizon. I wouldn’t call it a strange thought, it has occurred to me more than once but I don’t think it’s a common thought and I’m alright with that.
Writing is my spirituality.
I like to say that I do not have a religion, religion is for those who can name the faith they belong and can read out of the same book as millions of others without knowing the history behind it and follow it- not blindly but more like a sheep follows a flock. I’m not speaking of any one religion just organized religion in general.
To me spirituality is how you express your deepest soul felt feelings, it’s the guidelines you set for yourself, and your point of view in how the universe works. Spirituality is like a snowflake, no two for any two people are alike. Similar maybe but the same? Never because we are all different with different souls that have different needs but I’m ranting so I’ll pull myself back in the direction I was going beforehand.
Writing is my spirituality.
Everything that comes into my soul, my head, my heart. I express it through writing. The universe gives me all these wonders and I give back by writing. I celebrate my life and my happiness or the flip side of the same coin by writing.
Some Tibetan monk goes to his temple every single day, he adorns his robes, and purifies himself.
I sit before the temple of my laptop or notebook every single day, I build my writers nest out of all my favorite blankets, and I clear my mind.
The monk puts his hands together to pray.
I spread my fingers out over the keyboard.
The monk may sings hymns of the joy that his beliefs have brought him.
I dance spontaneously every ten pages.
He will sweep his temple steps in reverence to his place of practice.
I will meticulously pull all the keys off my keyboard and pick out all the cat hair and possibly Chinese food that has fallen beneath them because it is my place of practice and I revere it.
He will sit in silence for hours listening as his god speaks to him through it.
I will listen to my mp3 player for hours listening as random ideas pop into my head with convenient lyrics.
His god will bring him the greatest wisdom he has ever known if he listens with a full heart and an open soul.
My characters will bring me the greatest stories and teach me the greatest morals I have ever known, taking me on adventures I may have never had otherwise through my stories if I listen with a full heart and an open soul.