Keeping it in perspective.

[Nateskate]

I don't know about the rest of the writing world, but when I see the end of the world happening down the street, it's hard to focus on much else. Some people turn the proverbial channel in their minds, and focus on other things. Others, seem to have a hard time blocking out those images. I tend to fall into the latter category, though I'm working on focusing on the good in life. To do otherwise is just too emotionally draining.

I'm of the opinion- I've got to do what I can do; and let go of what I have no power over. We have to avoid ignoring other people's dilemas, but we have to move on and live life as much as possible at the same time.

With that said, I'm finding it hard to keep my writing projects on the front burner. Years of writing, and getting to the point of publishing seems so insignificant when I imagine a thousand mansucripts of other writers are floating out to sea this afternoon. Awhile ago I lost several parts of my story. I have no idea what happened, but they disappeared out of my word files. All in all I was disappointed more than devestated. Yet, I put it into perspective. Right now, someone's computer with years of work is sitting on a table in a house that was pushed three blocks away from where the foundation stood. Next to their WIP were all their records, and family photos.

Feel free to share your thoughts on this. Are you able to block it all out and move on? Are you finding yourself irritable and stressed? Does this impact your writing at the moment, or your motivation?

[William Haskins]

Feel free to share your thoughts on this. Are you able to block it all out and move on? Are you finding yourself irritable and stressed? Does this impact your writing at the moment, or your motivation?

it's incredibly hard, especially if you cannot channel that angst directly into motivation or inspiration. but, there's something about the human animal that forges onward.

poetry and painting emerged from plague-stricken europe. babies were born in concentration and forced-labor camps, great novels sprung forth from a decimated europe during and between the world wars.

sometimes, creation is the only thing that can stave off insanity.

my two cents. can i have my change?

[aka eraser]

I mull, digest, and then write about it - but I'm primarily an essayist. I suspect for most of us though, all experience is eventually distilled and finds its way into our writing. If we couldn't project ourselves into others' lives and empathize, how could we create anything except cardboard characters and cookie-cutter plots (or thinly disguised autobios)?

So we can't block it out. We have to feel it and eventually write it.

[Nateskate]

it's incredibly hard, especially if you cannot channel that angst directly into motivation or inspiration. but, there's something about the human animal that forges onward.

poetry and painting emerged from plague-stricken europe. babies were born in concentration and forced-labor camps, great novels sprung forth from a decimated europe during and between the world wars.

sometimes, creation is the only thing that can stave off insanity.

my two cents. can i have my change?

Of course you can have change my friend.

There is something beautiful about art, and creativity, from poetry to baking a pie. Art feeds the spirit, and right now we have spirits in a deficit. So, art is more important than it ever was.

I'm a Solomon fan (did I say this fifty or sixty million times.) He said, "Life and death are in the power of the tongue." Well, the pen is just a tongue with a point. With a couple of wonderful strokes, you can take some from standing on the ledge of despair to standing atop a mountain peak. There are few greater gifts than imparting life to the weary soul, and through speaking or print that is possible.

Hard times have come and gone, and people have survived them. Great works have come out of them. This may seem like the end of the world, but in reality it's another opportunity for inspiration to shine like a ray piercing through the darkest cloud. Have at it.

[Nateskate]

I mull, digest, and then write about it - but I'm primarily an essayist. I suspect for most of us though, all experience is eventually distilled and finds its way into our writing. If we couldn't project ourselves into others' lives and empathize, how could we create anything except cardboard characters and cookie-cutter plots (or thinly disguised autobios)?

So we can't block it out. We have to feel it and eventually write it.

Absolute-ly. There will be inspired stories coming from this. There are already.

[Ketzel]

Anguish to art is indeed a human process. But having worked with frail and institutionalized elders, I'm finding the stories and images of nursing home residents left to suffer and drown have simply wrecked my emotional equilibrium beyond my coping point. Hard enough to keep from constant crying. Not ready to concentrate on my merry little novel.

[Joycia]

sometimes, creation is the only thing that can stave off insanity.


With a couple of wonderful strokes, you can take some from standing on the ledge of despair to standing atop a mountain peak.

Thank you Mr. Haskins & Nateskape. Irritable, stressed, discouraged and more as I still anxiously await news of friends, hubby's normal day-job replaced with him working the tenth night straight supporting Katrina relief efforts that's been 24x7 from Fort Peterson (with understandably no end in sight yet), in addition to other life's challanges...

... well anyway. Thank you both for the courage casually given and grasped so desperately. Thank you AW for existing.

I put both your quotes on my desktop so I can keep them in front of me. Even if I what I write never helps, I can at least believe it might...someday. Sure beats the alternative, and is more fulfilling than cash, clothing & food given... along with other petty sacrifices.

So yes, Nateskate, it has been a negative impact on my writing lately, but no more.

[christa]

"So we can't block it out. We have to feel it and eventually write it."

Aka-Eraser, I agree completely! Feeling is the other half of writing.

I have long suspected I'm somewhat of a "sensitive"--which, basically, means "I feel your pain". This seems to happen in times of a universal sadness. The first time I can remember this phenomenon ocurring was when I was very young and President Kennedy was shot. Later, other events would trigger this "sensitivity". I find it difficult to describe what actually happens to me. It is as if I've left my physical body, I feel almost elevated or "high" like I'm hovering in an etherworld of pain. Believe it or not, the absolute worst time was when Timothy McVeigh was executed--go figure (I've never been able to figure that one out.) I have actually become dehabilitated at times and not been able to write. In that condition it is not possible for me to write. (Not a good thing when on deadline.) Anybody else share this sort of thing?

Perhaps in part because of this sensitivity, but also after many years of interviewing (and writing up the ensueing stories) I've mastered the little trick of putting myself in someone else's shoes. I experience the sadness, frustration, joy, heartbreak, etc. I have to submerge myself wholly into it in order to grab it, but then I need to shake it off before I can write it. This little trick needs to be mastered cleverly because it is so easy for one's energy to get sucked in by others. That's where discipline plays an important part. I can't allow myself to wallow in the shoes of those to whom I give my empathy because I have things to get done. My emotions need to be put aside when I write. Otherwise the writing sucks with sap.

Therein lies a small portion of the gift of writing at all--through the pen, empathy becomes tangible. It lightens the burden for those suffering, just as sharing the joy heightens it. I suspect most writers know this innately. As writers, as artists, I believe our gift to humanity is empathy.

[Nateskate]

Anguish to art is indeed a human process. But having worked with frail and institutionalized elders, I'm finding the stories and images of nursing home residents left to suffer and drown have simply wrecked my emotional equilibrium beyond my coping point. Hard enough to keep from constant crying. Not ready to concentrate on my merry little novel.

It's very difficult to adjust, but it is possible and necessary. I've worked with people with incurable diseases and people in crises for many years. I've held the hands of the dying, or parents who lost a child. I've watched families fall apart, and had people call me just to tell me they had their pills laid out on their beds ready to kill themselves. I've also worked with abuse victims, who were in intense emotional pain.

Katrina is just a larger scale version of what happens to people's lives, only new in terms of scope and degree.

In the first thread of part two of "My life story", I made a point of saying there has to be a point where we learn to shut out most of the misery to deal with what is possible to deal with. For one, we can't allow ourselves to believe the world is over. Tomorrow people will get married. Others will get their degree and start a job. There are children being born. Butterflies fly, hawks swoop. In other words, although there is disaster, there is still beauty, and we should spend ten times as many thoughts on what is beautiful as on what is horrible.

We need to find our own safe haven, and go there and drink in whatever refreshes us. We need our mountaintop, whether it is a gym, or friends, or place in a park.

We can't feel guilty for what we can't change. Survivors guilt is an odd thing. People feel guilty that they weren't victims. America is feeling some survivor's guilt. And the most sensitive people are most prone to feeling it is their burden to save the world.

If we can influence a few lives here and there, that's all that is required. None of us can save the day here. You've probably heard the phrase, "Instead of cursing the darkness, light a candle." We each have one or two candles. We can only light what we have. And we have to allow ourselves to feel good about small things, like calling a friend, or sending a fruit basket. And if we can do more, we still have to realize there will be limits. There are six hundred volunteer firefighters from all around the country that went to La. They are now sitting around for days. So, they've done all they could, and have to wait until the powers down there figure out how to use them.

They have to feel good that they came, even if it seemed they didn't accomplish much yet. Life has seasons, and seeds lying dorment are not dead seeds. It takes time before the growth is seen, and as much as this was horrible, good seeds are being sown, and eventually some beauty will spring from this.

[Nateskate]

Thank you Mr. Haskins & Nateskape. Irritable, stressed, discouraged and more as I still anxiously await news of friends, hubby's normal day-job replaced with him working the tenth night straight supporting Katrina relief efforts that's been 24x7 from Fort Peterson (with understandably no end in sight yet), in addition to other life's challanges...

... well anyway. Thank you both for the courage casually given and grasped so desperately. Thank you AW for existing.

I put both your quotes on my desktop so I can keep them in front of me. Even if I what I write never helps, I can at least believe it might...someday. Sure beats the alternative, and is more fulfilling than cash, clothing & food given... along with other petty sacrifices.

So yes, Nateskate, it has been a negative impact on my writing lately, but no more.

Thanks for your post. There is a perspective that will help us all. For years I waded in human misery, and saw people at their lowest. It's kind of been a hobby of mine to try to help people that needed help as much as I was able. In all those years, I realized that I am not responsible for all the suffering in the world, or saving everyone. And I realized that it is not a sin to have a life and enjoy what life I can have in this world. According to Solomon enjoying our works under the sun is a gift from God and I intend to enjoy what I can of this gift because sadness has enough needless victims.

And here's the important part, I'll never stop caring about people just because I also enjoy the scraps of goodness falling to me under the table.

So, I have to watch Extreme Home Makeover Home Edition, and go for walks, and read Mark Twain. Giving someone the gift of a book is like making them a meal, and giving them clean garments. These things are like the proverbial ancient art of foot washing, which was a custom that was meant to refresh a weary sojourner. If your intention is to refresh a soul, then your book becomes a gift to the reader. I'm plugging on because I believe my story is a future gift to someone. And I'm glad you aren't giving up on a dream. Picture one of those people down there looking for a book to thrill them and ward off sadness, and you were the one who gave it to them.

[Nateskate]

"So we can't block it out. We have to feel it and eventually write it."

Aka-Eraser, I agree completely! Feeling is the other half of writing.

I have long suspected I'm somewhat of a "sensitive"--which, basically, means "I feel your pain". This seems to happen in times of a universal sadness. The first time I can remember this phenomenon ocurring was when I was very young and President Kennedy was shot. Later, other events would trigger this "sensitivity". I find it difficult to describe what actually happens to me. It is as if I've left my physical body, I feel almost elevated or "high" like I'm hovering in an etherworld of pain. Believe it or not, the absolute worst time was when Timothy McVeigh was executed--go figure (I've never been able to figure that one out.) I have actually become dehabilitated at times and not been able to write. In that condition it is not possible for me to write. (Not a good thing when on deadline.) Anybody else share this sort of thing?

Perhaps in part because of this sensitivity, but also after many years of interviewing (and writing up the ensueing stories) I've mastered the little trick of putting myself in someone else's shoes. I experience the sadness, frustration, joy, heartbreak, etc. I have to submerge myself wholly into it in order to grab it, but then I need to shake it off before I can write it. This little trick needs to be mastered cleverly because it is so easy for one's energy to get sucked in by others. That's where discipline plays an important part. I can't allow myself to wallow in the shoes of those to whom I give my empathy because I have things to get done. My emotions need to be put aside when I write. Otherwise the writing sucks with sap.

Therein lies a small portion of the gift of writing at all--through the pen, empathy becomes tangible. It lightens the burden for those suffering, just as sharing the joy heightens it. I suspect most writers know this innately. As writers, as artists, I believe our gift to humanity is empathy.

I am also a natural burden bearer. Since my nature is to want to help others, I had to learn my boundaries of influence, and let that dictate how and when I can do that. Now I refuse to feel guilty for the fact that I can't save the world.

The principle works like this. A lifeguard who tries to save lives 24/7 is eventually going to drown and then he can't save anyone. They have to consider what is reasonable, and balanced. They can't feel guilty that they took time to eat, or sleep. They need to get refreshed in mind as well as physically. We can't live in water, so at best a lifeguard goes on their shift and they do what they can where they are and while they are there.

We have to realize our realms of influence-the lives we touch- are limited. It might seem good to send every firefighter in America to rescue New Orleans. But what happens when fire catches in their cities? Their attempts to be overly good will cause more harm than good.

Tomorrow I can choose to be depressed over New Orleans. That seems the caring thing to do. However, my wife needs a sane husband. My children need a sane father. I can't go, so I'll do what I can from where I am, and I refuse to beat myself up over that. It works so much better than feeling miserable. Done that; didn't like it; gave it up.

[DeniseK]

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/09/04/opinion/04brooks.html

This gives a very good overview of the way I feel. I need to know that there will be accountability before I can move forward. I have written exactly one 600 word essay since this happened. When I look out my window at the homeless people walking by, I am seeing them in a different light. Maybe some good will come out of all this after all.

[azbikergirl]

I, too, can't help but be affected, as I was on and after 9/11. I have a hard time focusing on my personal life when so many people's worlds have turned upside down. I do what I can, but it'll never be enough. Sometimes I try to channel my feelings into my fiction by writing the hard scenes. Doesn't always work.

About human suffering and the will to survive: Man's Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl. A most excellent book.

[DeniseK]

You got that right. It changed my perspective.

[Nateskate]

There is a key to keeping these things in perspective. The first is the realization that good will come out of every evil.

Some people care about people today that they were indifferent to yesterday. Someone will hug someone tighter, or visit someone, cherishing them when before they couldn't care.

Others will find themselves heroes ala Frodo Baggins. They found a courage to do or say something that touched another, things they would never have dared to do before. They will find out they can lead, and impact the world instead of sitting like a spectator in life.

When it comes to suffering, get a philosophical perspective like this: "I will only allow myself to feel as bad as is necessary to be motivated to do something good." Anything past that will de-motivate me and rob me of being able to function. I am not obligated to feel miserable. I am only obligated to care and figure out if I can help someone. And take it one day at a time. Plan to do something by the end of the week, whether it is to call someone you haven't talked to or visit someone you haven't visited. Use the energy from this storm as a motivation to move forward, not an excuse to fall behind.

In the bigger picture, this kind of suffering did happen before, in Bangladesh and countless other places. There are war torn countries, and african countries with millions slain, and ethnic cleansing. From now on, we will be more compassionate when we hear these things.

Sure, there is no putting a cost on this tragedy, but I know how I would have felt (if my life was lost in this storm) . I know that if I could know it made my country a better more compassionate country, I would have felt the loss meant something. And that can happen.

[Ketzel]

Nate, your words are brave, eloquent and optimistic. I cannot share your mood. It is not the disaster that has brought me so low. Disasters can energize compassionate action, can bring people together and make them stronger.

But so much of what went wrong here was preventable, if only the people with the responsibility to plan and to lead (both on a long term and short term basis) had done their jobs. We are rich, we have knowledge, we have resources, we had warning. And we failed, we utterly failed the most vulnerable and helpless of our people. And until I see those who had the ability and the responsibility to act acknowledge the failures, demonstrate that they understand the bitter consequences of those failures and start to take effective steps to be sure it doesn't happen again, I am not going to be able to take solace in the compassionate acts of the individuals who did try to help.

It is, yes it is! wonderful that small boy is reunited with puppy by the efforts of a National Guardsman. But boy and puppy might not have been separated at all if proper planning had been in place. I can value the people who bind up the wounds. But how do I ignore the fact that the ones who inflicted the wounds are still in charge and still showing no appreciation for the consequences of their actions?

And we have yet to hear the body count.

Maybe someday I'll write about this. But now I cry about it, and do what I can to help.

[Nateskate]

I think I understand where people are coming from. And you can clarify where I miss the point. But it seems that many people are more than sad over the terrible things they happen. They have a general feeling that we are unprotected in general, and the bigger problem is overall vulnerability. "The world is going to hell in a handbasket-feeling." where we don't know that anything is guaranteed.

I also sense you aren't saying this is simply a vulnerability issue, but want it to be a wake-up call, and perhaps more than that.

I can only comment on the general issue. When people feel they have no power to change things, they feel despair. And so they either get angry because they feel they have no voice, or because they feel that getting angry will change something. Some of it is as non-specific as everything is futile, no one can protect us. Some feel it's simply an administration and if we just clean house everything will get better. And these feel compelled to sell the world that this whole thing is someone's fault, or at minimum their fault for not preparing better or reacting better after the fact.

I'm not saying there isn't anything to improve, or even there aren't some reasons for being angry. The issue though (in the long run) is how do we as individuals get on with life when it seems our computer crashed. There are so many things that happened that can't be undone, dominos set in motion that are still falling and will continue to fall.

But what I care about is smaller than repairing the system's failures. For one, I can't. Some can, and there is already extreme pressure bearing down now on these people. I am not in that loop. But for what it's worth, I care about the people here and I'm pretty much throwing a velcro ball of hope with a lifeline and hoping it sticks.

People can get on with life, and most simply don't know how. It's not like the people in Louisiana were the only ones that suffered. We all did. We just don't suffer nearly as bad as they are. They are dealing with where do we sleep tomorrow, but as a nation we are dealing with, "What now?"

In a sense we have varying degrees of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, which is anxiety associated with a truama we lived through. We all witnessed a horrific accident. We didn't see it on the spot, but we are seeing it every day in the news. We are bombarded with overwhelming needs and pain and a sense of helplessness.

My message is that hope didn't die. We need to get our sense of balance back and live. Let me put this in a context. Tolkien wrote Lord of the Rings during a world war. He had already lived through an earlier world war in which he was enlisted, and his friends died. C.S Lewis was also a victim of the war, and was in fact a cynical atheist when Tolkien met him.

Tolkien was brilliant, but also very much of a quiet source of inspiration to the world, because in his stories, you have hobbits, unexpected heroes called to face an overwhelming world. And in that context I ask, "Was Tolkien's life a waste because of living through a war when there was rationing of everything, and lives were turned upside down?" No. "Was C.S. Lewis's life a waste because he lost his faith in a post war Europe?" No.

What we need to get back on track is a sense of perspective. What do we do with our pain? How do we put it off and just live again. How do we put off our fears, and just enjoy the smell of flowers, the taste of pie, or anything else with this dread hanging over us?

The answer is that hobbits have a sense of humor and perspective that isn't immersed in the sadness and size of the enemy. Sam is thinking of salt for his chicken on the road to Mordor.

Thanks for your patience if you read this far. But one last point. Anger is a very dangerous tool. The saying, "Don't let the sun go down on your anger" is filled with wisdom. Longterm anger becomes internalized, meaning it becomes a part of us. That is what bitterness is, internalized anger that just impacts the whole person. I'm all for changing what we can change. But a constant feeding of anger will become for all intents and purposes a poisoning of the waters of our souls.

So, as we seek to be pro-active to change the world, we really can't allow ourselves to stew in anger and keep that as our motivation. Honestly, prolonged anger causes chemical changes in the brain, and will eventually impact our immune systems, our ability to heal, and eventually it will also throw people into prolonged clinical depression. It also impacts the body physically, and there are links to a host of digestive problems-upper and lower, and arthritic conditions. I'm not blaming people for feeling sad, cheated, disappointed. That's not my motivation for saying this. Neither is it to protect some figure head, or sympathy for human failure.

I'm just making a suggestion for people who are feeling anger, which happens with grief, to realize the goal is to get to the place where they think longterm- I don't want to feel like this anymore.

I've dealt with abuse victims for some time now, and honestly, anger is probably the biggest obstacle to healing, even bigger than fears. And it isn't like we have this unique ability to point our anger at one target, and nothing else. It can become so internalized it becomes ingrained. Our children see it, our spouces see it. It impacts all of our life in ways we never thought.

So if administrations needs rebuke or to be changed, that is a different issue, and it needs to be dealt with a bit more pragmatically. Again, this isn't saying I don't understand why people feel anger, only that from getting on with life, its better when we try to deal with issues without allowing it to rule us. I know, easier said than done.

[LightShadow]

I just close the door, turn off the tv, turn off the radio, read a little if I have to, and then just write until I either can't write anymore, or I have to visit the office with the porcelain throne.

[Nateskate]

I just close the door, turn off the tv, turn off the radio, read a little if I have to, and then just write until I either can't write anymore, or I have to visit the office with the porcelain throne.

Get-aways that work.