Natalie Burg's Blog, page 11
October 24, 2013
The Art of Discovery: Thank you, ricotta cheese, for all of these great ideas
Thanks to ricotta cheese, my life is now richer. No wait, it's really thanks to Modern Family. Or my friend Sherrie. But actually, it's because discovering new things creates a domino effect of ideas and inspiration that impacts every corner of our lives.
I'm sure there was some inciting incident that caused me to recently start watching the TV show Modern Family. There must have been, as I like to keep the number of television shows I watch to a minimum, lest I get sucked in and forget to make time for things like reading and making a living. But somehow I accidentally started watching it, and as the rest of the world already knows, it's hilarious. In addition to making me giggle (a lot), the show also features fairly regular family meals, during which the entire cast gets together to eat homemade foods...
I'm sure there was some inciting incident that caused me to recently start watching the TV show Modern Family. There must have been, as I like to keep the number of television shows I watch to a minimum, lest I get sucked in and forget to make time for things like reading and making a living. But somehow I accidentally started watching it, and as the rest of the world already knows, it's hilarious. In addition to making me giggle (a lot), the show also features fairly regular family meals, during which the entire cast gets together to eat homemade foods...
October 23, 2013
Hey! Look at what we do! How connecting with humans makes everything better.
Mike and I had an incredibly fun experience on Monday, visiting Mike's alma mater, Western Michigan University, to give a presentation to a class about entrepreneurship in the arts. The class of about 200 students were so delightful and engaged, and asked a number of really great questions...
October 17, 2013
Creating is one thing; continuing to create is another
There is so much romance in the creation of one's first thing. Whether it's a book, a song, a poem or a business, there is an entire industry built upon the encouragement of people's creative pursuits. And appropriately so, I suppose. It takes a good deal of motivation and knowledge and guts to start and finish a thing, put your name on it and offer it to the world. Good thing we have libraries of books, directories full of experts, and now, newsfeeds full of inspiration quoting memes to motivate us.
While putting something out into the marketplace of ideas to be preyed upon by critics (or worse, ignored by them) is tough, I've found it to be more of a challenge to put that second, third or twenty-eighth thing out there. After being criticized, ignored or even praised for one's creation, a bar has been set. It may be high or it may be low, but either way, you're back a square one, right where you were before you created, but without the excitement/encouragement industry behind you. You're just someone who wants to make a thing, but without the hype or anticipation or mystery you started with the first time.
But we keep going. We write the another article for that publication, even when the last one was criticized. We start outlining the next project, even though there's no one standing behind us, cheering or directing our sails. We do it because we are creators and it's what we're driven to do. We realize that the Creativity Industrial Complex wasn't what made our first thing; we did. We do it knowing that it may not be this thing, or the next, but maybe even the fourteenth or twenty-second thing that catches, that dazzles people, that really reflects who we are and what we intend to contribute.
We keep creating because we know that only a fraction of the would-be creators manage to put out their first thing, and only a fraction of those who do keep creating. It is hard to keep the fire alive, the gears in motion, the pedal to the floor, or whatever motivational cliche does it for you. Even though it take an entirely different sort of momentum, one that comes from deep within ourselves rather than outside forces, we find that place and we focus on it. It's a quiet, internal place, with little romance, with no instructions and no one to keep us company. It's where we find our reasons to keep going. It's the same place from which our next great thing will emerge. We might as well get cozy there.
While putting something out into the marketplace of ideas to be preyed upon by critics (or worse, ignored by them) is tough, I've found it to be more of a challenge to put that second, third or twenty-eighth thing out there. After being criticized, ignored or even praised for one's creation, a bar has been set. It may be high or it may be low, but either way, you're back a square one, right where you were before you created, but without the excitement/encouragement industry behind you. You're just someone who wants to make a thing, but without the hype or anticipation or mystery you started with the first time.
But we keep going. We write the another article for that publication, even when the last one was criticized. We start outlining the next project, even though there's no one standing behind us, cheering or directing our sails. We do it because we are creators and it's what we're driven to do. We realize that the Creativity Industrial Complex wasn't what made our first thing; we did. We do it knowing that it may not be this thing, or the next, but maybe even the fourteenth or twenty-second thing that catches, that dazzles people, that really reflects who we are and what we intend to contribute.
We keep creating because we know that only a fraction of the would-be creators manage to put out their first thing, and only a fraction of those who do keep creating. It is hard to keep the fire alive, the gears in motion, the pedal to the floor, or whatever motivational cliche does it for you. Even though it take an entirely different sort of momentum, one that comes from deep within ourselves rather than outside forces, we find that place and we focus on it. It's a quiet, internal place, with little romance, with no instructions and no one to keep us company. It's where we find our reasons to keep going. It's the same place from which our next great thing will emerge. We might as well get cozy there.
October 15, 2013
Working through trials to find a bit of treasure
Today has been..[sigh]...a day. In the last 48 hours, the number of people who have totally flaked on scheduled interviews with me can barely be counted on one hand. They have caused me stress, wasted my time, made me miss deadlines and some actually cost me money. This happens on occasion, but rarely does it occur multiple times on the same day, much less then same project, which a couple of these instances were. Not all though. For whatever reasons, multiple sources from multiple stories for multiple publications all decided to hate me at the same time.
On a scale that includes world hunger and human rights abuses, my day hasn't been that bad, but as I finally gave up and turned in the pieces in question, I felt the unsettled ache in my stomach of a passing nightmare. It was over, but it was still pretty bad. I might have had a little cry. I'll probably soak in the tub in a bit, but first I had to share this little piece of wonderful that came out of the misery.
When a needed interview vanishes hours before a deadline, a writer must take to the internet to find "web content." This is no easy task. There might be dozens of articles, blogs and websites that would prove the right point or support the narrative at hand, but the tricky thing about being a journalist is the source and quality of the content matters. The source has to be verifiable, legitimate, etc. For this piece, I was searching everywhere from business news sites to eBay, and it was on eBay - where treasures are known to be found - that I encountered back copies of GMC Truck News, a General Motors magazine that was once in print. It was written by R.A. Sumpter, also known as Robert Sumpter, also known as my grandfather.
My aunt recently gave me a copy of GMC Truck News that Grandpa had given her before he died. She wanted me to have it, and I couldn't have been more pleased. It's not just that I am also a writer. I also, 50 years later, write a good deal of branded content for companies, very similar to what he did for General Motors. It wasn't something I aspired to, it was just one of those lucky things I stumbled upon. Though I can't ask him, as he died 15 years ago, I believe he would have said the same thing.
And as it turns out, there are more volumes of his work available on eBay. I sort of want to buy them all up. I might. Whether or not I do though, it feels so wonderful to know that his work is still out there, in the same industry as mine, and that I even had an assignment that caused the paths of our work to cross. That no-good, super-annoying, tear-inducing horror of an assignment. That I am so glad I received.
On a scale that includes world hunger and human rights abuses, my day hasn't been that bad, but as I finally gave up and turned in the pieces in question, I felt the unsettled ache in my stomach of a passing nightmare. It was over, but it was still pretty bad. I might have had a little cry. I'll probably soak in the tub in a bit, but first I had to share this little piece of wonderful that came out of the misery.
When a needed interview vanishes hours before a deadline, a writer must take to the internet to find "web content." This is no easy task. There might be dozens of articles, blogs and websites that would prove the right point or support the narrative at hand, but the tricky thing about being a journalist is the source and quality of the content matters. The source has to be verifiable, legitimate, etc. For this piece, I was searching everywhere from business news sites to eBay, and it was on eBay - where treasures are known to be found - that I encountered back copies of GMC Truck News, a General Motors magazine that was once in print. It was written by R.A. Sumpter, also known as Robert Sumpter, also known as my grandfather.
My aunt recently gave me a copy of GMC Truck News that Grandpa had given her before he died. She wanted me to have it, and I couldn't have been more pleased. It's not just that I am also a writer. I also, 50 years later, write a good deal of branded content for companies, very similar to what he did for General Motors. It wasn't something I aspired to, it was just one of those lucky things I stumbled upon. Though I can't ask him, as he died 15 years ago, I believe he would have said the same thing.
And as it turns out, there are more volumes of his work available on eBay. I sort of want to buy them all up. I might. Whether or not I do though, it feels so wonderful to know that his work is still out there, in the same industry as mine, and that I even had an assignment that caused the paths of our work to cross. That no-good, super-annoying, tear-inducing horror of an assignment. That I am so glad I received.
October 11, 2013
Challenge cynicism on the International Day of the Girl
It doesn't take much effort to find feminism cynics out there. In fact, it's pretty darn easy to find cynics of every variety. Sometimes it's hard to even see past the blanket of cynicism that hangs over nearly everything. It's easier to say feminism (or healthcare reform or food stamps, etc.) is unneeded, unwarranted, overblown or downright evil than it is to accept that we live in a challenging world that requires us to examine our beliefs and behaviors and move out of our comfort zones to make life better for others. I get that. It's tough, and the evidence is everywhere.
What did surprise me though, was a feature on Malala Yousafzai on BBC radio this week. The first half of the report included people from her hometown in Pakistan talking about how her reputation was overblown, raising suspicions about whether or not the girl who was so famously shot in the head for standing up for her right to go school was even injured at all, and generally stating that she shouldn't come back. While their cynicism was shocking enough, as the BBC reporter transitioned into her interview with Malala, she said she was actually surprised to discover what a poised, sincere and believable young woman she was.
Really? You're surprised that a teenager who stood up for girls' right to education against the Taliban, faced an assassination attempt, recovered from a bullet to the head and is still actively campaigning is a sincere person? That is a surprise? In what world could such a person be anything but?
Today, for International Day of the Girl, we're asked to think about human trafficking of women and girls, the oppression of rights and a great deal of suffering. None of it is easy to consider. It is easier to believe that it doesn't really occur, or that it's not really that bad or that there is nothing we can do to change it if it does. If we can do one thing to honor International Day of the Girl, it should be to challenge this cynicism. It should be to allow ourselves to believe in the sincerity of these struggles and those are fighting against them.
I we would be amazed by the difference that could be made by simply opening our minds. Just believing that struggles of others exist and that they are not the fault of those struggling. If we can give this day the benefit of the doubt, perhaps we can learn to apply that to all areas our lives. Maybe we can recognize the struggles of others as an opportunity to make the world better, not an affront to our own comfort. Maybe then, after we're able to wrap out minds around it, we'll start moving toward becoming a world about which we can say sincerely, rather than cynically, that this kind of suffering and inequality doesn't exist. We're just not there yet.
What did surprise me though, was a feature on Malala Yousafzai on BBC radio this week. The first half of the report included people from her hometown in Pakistan talking about how her reputation was overblown, raising suspicions about whether or not the girl who was so famously shot in the head for standing up for her right to go school was even injured at all, and generally stating that she shouldn't come back. While their cynicism was shocking enough, as the BBC reporter transitioned into her interview with Malala, she said she was actually surprised to discover what a poised, sincere and believable young woman she was.
Really? You're surprised that a teenager who stood up for girls' right to education against the Taliban, faced an assassination attempt, recovered from a bullet to the head and is still actively campaigning is a sincere person? That is a surprise? In what world could such a person be anything but?
Today, for International Day of the Girl, we're asked to think about human trafficking of women and girls, the oppression of rights and a great deal of suffering. None of it is easy to consider. It is easier to believe that it doesn't really occur, or that it's not really that bad or that there is nothing we can do to change it if it does. If we can do one thing to honor International Day of the Girl, it should be to challenge this cynicism. It should be to allow ourselves to believe in the sincerity of these struggles and those are fighting against them.
I we would be amazed by the difference that could be made by simply opening our minds. Just believing that struggles of others exist and that they are not the fault of those struggling. If we can give this day the benefit of the doubt, perhaps we can learn to apply that to all areas our lives. Maybe we can recognize the struggles of others as an opportunity to make the world better, not an affront to our own comfort. Maybe then, after we're able to wrap out minds around it, we'll start moving toward becoming a world about which we can say sincerely, rather than cynically, that this kind of suffering and inequality doesn't exist. We're just not there yet.
October 10, 2013
Happy Sociopath Awareness Day!
Didn't know it was sociopath awareness day? Yeah, well, I just decided that in honor of former Detroit Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick's sentencing, today was as good a day as any to talk about sociopaths. As Jack Lessenberry pointed out yesterday, Kwame definitely falls under the description of a sociopath: he is charming, intelligent and totally incapable of empathy.
We'd like to think people capable of the level of narcissism required to bleed a deeply troubled city of an estimated $20 million just for funsies is a rarity, but sadly, it's not. According to psychologist and author of The Sociopath Next Door Marta Stout, sociopaths make up 4 percent of the population. I don't know about you, but sometimes it seems like I've met all of them.
Seriously though, that's one in every 25 people who are incapable of caring about other people, and extremely capable of leaving trails of hurt and destruction behind them as they blaze through life. Many are smart enough to not break laws as they do so, so society doesn't have the luxury of putting them in jail, like we can happily do to Kwame. Sometimes the only prey on those least likely to reveal them for who they are, like children or the poor. One of the most chilling examples of a sociopath is an incredible story CNN recently ran about a sociopath who killed a little girl as a teenager and then spent more than 50 years terrorizing nearly everyone he came into contact with. But besides the murder no one knew about, he largely avoided breaking the law, so he got away with nearly everything. It's a long read, but super worth it.
The point is, sociopaths are everywhere. They're controlling and manipulative, they use people and care only for themselves. They are also often charismatic, successful, socially active people whom no one suspects anything is wrong with. There are resources out there that can be helpful in identifying and dealing with them, including Stout's book. The best advice, I think, is exactly what Lessenberry advises everyone with regard to Kwame after his prison doors shut behind him: cut off all contact, deny them any attention, and protect yourself from them at all costs.
That said, we have to watch out for each other as well. We should talk about sociopathy, how to recognize it and how to get away from it. Because we've all just got this one life to live, and we should spend it surrounded by the other 96 percent of humanity.
We'd like to think people capable of the level of narcissism required to bleed a deeply troubled city of an estimated $20 million just for funsies is a rarity, but sadly, it's not. According to psychologist and author of The Sociopath Next Door Marta Stout, sociopaths make up 4 percent of the population. I don't know about you, but sometimes it seems like I've met all of them.
Seriously though, that's one in every 25 people who are incapable of caring about other people, and extremely capable of leaving trails of hurt and destruction behind them as they blaze through life. Many are smart enough to not break laws as they do so, so society doesn't have the luxury of putting them in jail, like we can happily do to Kwame. Sometimes the only prey on those least likely to reveal them for who they are, like children or the poor. One of the most chilling examples of a sociopath is an incredible story CNN recently ran about a sociopath who killed a little girl as a teenager and then spent more than 50 years terrorizing nearly everyone he came into contact with. But besides the murder no one knew about, he largely avoided breaking the law, so he got away with nearly everything. It's a long read, but super worth it.
The point is, sociopaths are everywhere. They're controlling and manipulative, they use people and care only for themselves. They are also often charismatic, successful, socially active people whom no one suspects anything is wrong with. There are resources out there that can be helpful in identifying and dealing with them, including Stout's book. The best advice, I think, is exactly what Lessenberry advises everyone with regard to Kwame after his prison doors shut behind him: cut off all contact, deny them any attention, and protect yourself from them at all costs.
That said, we have to watch out for each other as well. We should talk about sociopathy, how to recognize it and how to get away from it. Because we've all just got this one life to live, and we should spend it surrounded by the other 96 percent of humanity.
October 9, 2013
Swedish Lessons at The Eyrie in Ypsi!
One of the things I miss most about the job I left to become a freelance writer is how social it was. I love people. And though my work life is nothing like the stereotypical writer, sitting alone at a typewriter, gazing through a window in deep thought, there is a certain amount of isolation involved. That's what makes reading events like the upcoming "Swedish Lessons and Champagne" event at The Eyrie in Ypsilanti so exciting for me. Humans! Humans with me! Doing things! Saying things!
What will make it exciting for those humans? Besides getting to spend an evening with me and my book? Swedish Lessons readings are actually quite a bit of fun (if I do say so myself). Besides doing the reading itself, I like to share some Swedish foods that are mentioned in the book, and at this very special event at The Eyrie, we'll also be enjoying some champagne, because what better reasons to celebrate is there than the fact that it's a Saturday and we're eating Swedish snacks together?
Another super cool part of the reading experience is the question and answer session. I wasn't sure what to expect from this initially, nor how to properly phrase the question, "OK, go ahead and as me questions about me and my book about me. Because I very interesting, I know."
But the questions I have been getting have been really fascinating, and I'm really excited to see what people ask next. Some of my favorites have been:
Are you okay? (I'm fine, thanks.)
Who would play you in a movie? (This actually has a really interesting answer that I won't include on the internet, but does actually involve Brad Pitt. Not playing me, but you'll have to ask me in person for details.)
So, was there anything good that happened in Sweden? (I still sleep on a Tempur Pedic pillow, so my neck is pretty happy about that.)
So join us! "Swedish Lessons and Champagne" is taking place next Saturday, Oct. 18 at 9 E. Cross St. in Ypsilanti's Depot Town at 7pm. There will be books, friends, champagne and knäckebröd - and two gastronomic items have never been better paired.
What will make it exciting for those humans? Besides getting to spend an evening with me and my book? Swedish Lessons readings are actually quite a bit of fun (if I do say so myself). Besides doing the reading itself, I like to share some Swedish foods that are mentioned in the book, and at this very special event at The Eyrie, we'll also be enjoying some champagne, because what better reasons to celebrate is there than the fact that it's a Saturday and we're eating Swedish snacks together?
Another super cool part of the reading experience is the question and answer session. I wasn't sure what to expect from this initially, nor how to properly phrase the question, "OK, go ahead and as me questions about me and my book about me. Because I very interesting, I know."
But the questions I have been getting have been really fascinating, and I'm really excited to see what people ask next. Some of my favorites have been:
Are you okay? (I'm fine, thanks.)
Who would play you in a movie? (This actually has a really interesting answer that I won't include on the internet, but does actually involve Brad Pitt. Not playing me, but you'll have to ask me in person for details.)
So, was there anything good that happened in Sweden? (I still sleep on a Tempur Pedic pillow, so my neck is pretty happy about that.)
So join us! "Swedish Lessons and Champagne" is taking place next Saturday, Oct. 18 at 9 E. Cross St. in Ypsilanti's Depot Town at 7pm. There will be books, friends, champagne and knäckebröd - and two gastronomic items have never been better paired.
October 8, 2013
Finding the Truth in Divided Times: Follow the stories
I watch enough crime dramas on television to know that a sure way to get to the truth of a (fictional, at least) mystery is to follow the money. When faced with bitterly divided argument in which those on either side are completely convinced they are absolutely correct, a similar philosophy holds true: follow the stories.
Talking points are carefully crafted. Juicy and tempting non sequiturs are volleyed back and forth by both sides without anyone challenging the other's logic. Stories though, stories matter. Personal stories of people and experiences that beg the case for one side or other bring to light the reality of a situation. More often than not, the human factor is the most important piece of any argument, and it can so easily get lost in the yelling and the insults and the marketing.
My reasons for supporting Obamacare are all a part of my story: my family, my career, my tendency to always need Neosporan and a band-aid.
That said, I have not heard one story from an individual whose life will be made worse in some way by the Affordable Care Act. I've heard people say their principles will be violated, their personal interpretation of the Constitution threatened and their ideas of how the world works would be upset. No one has a compelling personal argument explaining how their life is good now, but will be made worse under the new law. And I have looked.*
What are available in abundance are the stories of people's lives who are in desperate states because of a broken healthcare system. They are people who were denied coverage because of pre-existing conditions and could not afford the medicine they need to survive. People who have had to quit their chosen careers to get a different job to just barely cover the medical expenses of their children. They are people who had an accident or illness that not only hurt them physically, but also swallowed them in debt. I have my own story of why the ACA is good for me and my family. So many people I know do. We are all depending on this program beginning in January, and we will all be hurt if it does not.
Stories - true stories, that is - of people's experiences matter. They matter more than statements like, "I shouldn't have to pay for your birth control" or "Obamacare is socialism." Those are empty words about abstractions that do not have any real benefit to any real person. If those intangibles are more important to so many Americans than the true stories of their relatives, their neighbors and others, than I suppose those people are right about one thing: we do live in dark times in the US. When we've lost the ability to empathize with one another and support those in need, when the stories of others have lost their power, then we are in trouble indeed.
*There are people complaining about increased premiums, this is true, but those are all from before anyone even had the opportunity to even look at the healthcare exchanges that will allow them to shop for a better plan.
Talking points are carefully crafted. Juicy and tempting non sequiturs are volleyed back and forth by both sides without anyone challenging the other's logic. Stories though, stories matter. Personal stories of people and experiences that beg the case for one side or other bring to light the reality of a situation. More often than not, the human factor is the most important piece of any argument, and it can so easily get lost in the yelling and the insults and the marketing.
My reasons for supporting Obamacare are all a part of my story: my family, my career, my tendency to always need Neosporan and a band-aid.
That said, I have not heard one story from an individual whose life will be made worse in some way by the Affordable Care Act. I've heard people say their principles will be violated, their personal interpretation of the Constitution threatened and their ideas of how the world works would be upset. No one has a compelling personal argument explaining how their life is good now, but will be made worse under the new law. And I have looked.*
What are available in abundance are the stories of people's lives who are in desperate states because of a broken healthcare system. They are people who were denied coverage because of pre-existing conditions and could not afford the medicine they need to survive. People who have had to quit their chosen careers to get a different job to just barely cover the medical expenses of their children. They are people who had an accident or illness that not only hurt them physically, but also swallowed them in debt. I have my own story of why the ACA is good for me and my family. So many people I know do. We are all depending on this program beginning in January, and we will all be hurt if it does not.
Stories - true stories, that is - of people's experiences matter. They matter more than statements like, "I shouldn't have to pay for your birth control" or "Obamacare is socialism." Those are empty words about abstractions that do not have any real benefit to any real person. If those intangibles are more important to so many Americans than the true stories of their relatives, their neighbors and others, than I suppose those people are right about one thing: we do live in dark times in the US. When we've lost the ability to empathize with one another and support those in need, when the stories of others have lost their power, then we are in trouble indeed.
*There are people complaining about increased premiums, this is true, but those are all from before anyone even had the opportunity to even look at the healthcare exchanges that will allow them to shop for a better plan.
October 7, 2013
The ills and virtues of monetizing time
Before becoming self-employed, it never occurred to me to assign a dollar value to my time. I suppose that was probably to the advantage of my employers. When self-employed, however, it's crucial. One you're past the I'll-take-every-assignment-that-comes-my-way-oh-god-please-don't-let-me-starve phase, you absolutely have to know what your time is worth to assess whether an assignment is worth taking, which gigs have priority over others and which jobs (or clients) are simply sucking up too much of your time.
That said, there are traps one can become ensnared in after growing comfortable with the monetary value of one's time.
You can undervalue the jobs that take longer and pay less, but are always there. Big paying jobs often come and go. Part of the monetary value of the hours spent on the "regular stuff" is made up for by not having to search out new work.
It's easy to begin counting every hour of your life in monetary terms. Is going to the movies really worth it? Sitting there and losing money for two hours? Is taking a three-day weekend totally insane? If you add money lost per hour to the cost of getting away, you will literally never leave your house. And especially when you work from home, you really need leave your house sometimes.
Monetizing time overvalues efficiency and undervalues things like connecting with people in person, careful editing, making time to think creatively and exploring new ideas.
Again, not to get all contradictory or anything, but knowing the monetary value of your time is an absolute must. Knowing which hours to measure and why, however, is just as important.
That said, there are traps one can become ensnared in after growing comfortable with the monetary value of one's time.
You can undervalue the jobs that take longer and pay less, but are always there. Big paying jobs often come and go. Part of the monetary value of the hours spent on the "regular stuff" is made up for by not having to search out new work.
It's easy to begin counting every hour of your life in monetary terms. Is going to the movies really worth it? Sitting there and losing money for two hours? Is taking a three-day weekend totally insane? If you add money lost per hour to the cost of getting away, you will literally never leave your house. And especially when you work from home, you really need leave your house sometimes.
Monetizing time overvalues efficiency and undervalues things like connecting with people in person, careful editing, making time to think creatively and exploring new ideas.
Again, not to get all contradictory or anything, but knowing the monetary value of your time is an absolute must. Knowing which hours to measure and why, however, is just as important.
October 4, 2013
Committing to ideas like Lois to a new friend
It was a pretty big day for Lois. On her morning walk with Mike to the place we call the Magical Toy Forest, she found an exciting new toy. Now, Lois find toys there all the time, hence the clever name. But today she found a particularly thrilling deflated white rubber soccer ball, and the two have been inseparable ever since.
Seriously. She wouldn't put it down, so Mike let her carry it home. The two of them got so dirty playing together (Ball and Lois, not Lois and Mike) that she had to stay in the backyard for the next two hours - where they played together the whole time. Then Mike and I took her for a 45 minute walk. She brought Ball along, carrying him the whole way. Finally, I decided if she wasn't going to put the disgusting thing down after four hours, I was just going to have to give the both of them a bath.
Now, they're both clean, happily playing together.
Lois doesn't do things halfway. I like that about her. Actually, I'm a little jealous of her. Sometimes I get an idea that I'm really excited about, that I'm really attached to, and simply because it's so intense and overwhelming and if I give it an inch it will take up the next four hours of my life, I put it right down. I decide I'll come back to it later. Why not, right? It'll still be there.
It's never as exciting though, to come back to super amazing idea later and break it into little, manageable chunks. I want to give myself permission to glom on to inspiration the way Lois glommed on to Ball. I want to refuse to put it down, even if it's time to go home or time for a walk or time for a bath.
Sometimes being an adult human with a job makes that more difficult than it is for a 2-year-old dog whose main job is doing cute things her owners can put on the internet. But I'd like to think it's possible.
Seriously. She wouldn't put it down, so Mike let her carry it home. The two of them got so dirty playing together (Ball and Lois, not Lois and Mike) that she had to stay in the backyard for the next two hours - where they played together the whole time. Then Mike and I took her for a 45 minute walk. She brought Ball along, carrying him the whole way. Finally, I decided if she wasn't going to put the disgusting thing down after four hours, I was just going to have to give the both of them a bath.
Now, they're both clean, happily playing together.
Lois doesn't do things halfway. I like that about her. Actually, I'm a little jealous of her. Sometimes I get an idea that I'm really excited about, that I'm really attached to, and simply because it's so intense and overwhelming and if I give it an inch it will take up the next four hours of my life, I put it right down. I decide I'll come back to it later. Why not, right? It'll still be there.
It's never as exciting though, to come back to super amazing idea later and break it into little, manageable chunks. I want to give myself permission to glom on to inspiration the way Lois glommed on to Ball. I want to refuse to put it down, even if it's time to go home or time for a walk or time for a bath.
Sometimes being an adult human with a job makes that more difficult than it is for a 2-year-old dog whose main job is doing cute things her owners can put on the internet. But I'd like to think it's possible.
