DAY 6/10 The Anti-List Lists
My mind is a run-on sentence: pack thestroller, firstaidkit, extradiapersbecauseRiverpoopsatnightwhenyoutravel. Pack yourlaptopcharger, ipodcable, preloadanaudiobook for the 2.5hourdrive. Remember your yogamat, extracopiesofyourbooks. Today’s lists are a flurry of snowflakes that fall but never land.
It’s my 5th year heading to @arrowmont_school for #pentaculum2020 and my last year as writing coordinator. I’ve been so many iterations of myself there—just married, then with newborn in tow, then baby in tow, then toddler, and now a little boy. Tjis year my son and husband will only stay the first 2 days. Not a half or full week. I’ll miss them but I’ll need the space, too; and that ever-present tug of guilt and affection boils into anxiety in an instant. That kicks the run-on-sentence-listing into high gear, and this time it’s about how to fix myself: worryless, letgomore, benice, laughmore, letloose, you’regreatbutyou’retooserious, peoplelikeyoubutalsothinkyou’retoomuch, youtaketoolongtolearnyourlessons, you’reselfishandstubborn.
WTF? Get outta here, nasty list!
I eat part of a cookie. I put the cookie down. I breath. I remember: I’ve also been these iterations of myself at Arrowmont—rejected novelist, published novelist, book touring novelist, and celebrated entreprenuer. And I’ve been a #halfmarathon runner, a #martialartist, and a recovering too-much-exercise-ist (um, that last one would be me, eh, NOW). Ahh. That’s more like it.
What do lists and anti-lists have to do with this? Exactly everything. Because you can bet my list of business tasks and #creativewriting tasks for this #artistresidency is impossibly long. And you can bet all these books can’t be read in a week, but that’s never the point of all we pack when we go to residencies.
It’s about faith, abundance, community, play, and experimentation. It’s about permission and grace, too.
Deep dive, here I come!