ReBlogs: When Is It Too Much?

(from MakerGoddess, Feb 21, 2014)

A once popular British TV comedy show featured a pair of characters who seem to be the best of friends. One is in a wheel chair and seems not only physically, but also mentally disabled. The friend is ever so obligingly taking care of him in each skit. The disabled character would make a choice about something (a trip, a book, a holiday destination, whether or not to go to the bathroom at a more convenient time). The friend would then proceed to gently attempt to persuade the man away from the undesired choice and guide him back toward a more reasonable choice. Always the one in the wheelchair stuck to his guns on the inappropriate choice so his friend eventually gave in. Yet every time the decision was carried out you’d see the one in the wheelchair saying he didn’t really want his choice but rather what the friend suggested. And of course the friend always fixed it. Well nearly always. He couldn’t quite change the holiday destination once the airplane was already taking off.

While this makes for great comedy, I wonder, what if this were a real relationship? Would the friend continue to do things with/for the disabled person? Would the friend ever decide to stop arguing with him and just let him lie in the bed he made, accepting his own consequences? When would the friend finally say, “I’ve had enough.” and just walk away.

I recently met a very nice young lady in the beginning years of her career. (Remember recently is always going to be a relative term with me.) She liked her profession but wasn’t very happy in her job and wondered if it would be worth it to make a change, to another location or a different position. She had come under new management at the beginning of the year and thought she might give it a bit longer, just to see if the fresh new blood made her work environment and the job any better. I commend her for wanting to see how the land lies for now, but how long will she wait?

I was there too. Giving just one more reason to stay, and did so for about three years. Finally, I took the plunge and began applying for other positions within my field.

That was scary; I won’t lie about that. I had been in the same position at the same location for eight years! The idea of being anywhere else, doing anything different, actually having to commute, was never entertained. Yes it was a dream come true to have just a one-mile commute! But as the years wore on, and my work environment deteriorated, so sank my acceptance level. Being just a song away from my job became the only good thing I could say about it.

My problem was that I was stuck in a rut of my own making. As a friend of mine once pointed out, I clung to the security of the familiar. Sure that place, that job, stunk to no end, but it was a known odor. If I moved, if I made any waves at all, would I find the same stink or one more foul? Mr. Murphy and I have a complicated relationship. He doesn’t mind and I don’t seem to matter. So his law of things going wrong applies to me categorically. I was just too afraid to take that risk. 

Risk nothing gain nothing, though.

I had to leave the security of my familiar when making not one but two changes in my career this school year as it turns out. That was terrifying! But the rewards far outweighed the momentary discomfort I felt in making the change. The best part was that the second decision to make a change was actually easier for this old scaredy cat. And I made it relatively quickly.

I am now doing a job in a much more conducive environment. So what if my commute is over 20 miles now. At least now as I advance forward in my career I am encouraged that taking such risks are going to not only become easier and easier but also I will be a much happier, more productive individual in the end.

My favorite teacher Ms. Frizzle always says, “Take chances. Make mistakes. Get messy.” Fabulous advice if you ask me. Well, except the messy bit, unless you are very near a shower.

~~Dawn Burr

Dawn is a teacher by profession but a writer by passion. Her sarcastic wit, innocent charm, and insightful reflections will have you bowled over with laughter as she ponders with you the little things in life that make you go hhhmmmm. Learn more about Dawn on her website: Dawn Burr Writes or on her blog: MakerGoddess.

A Scribe Among Friends

Once again I hear the sirens warming up their vocal chords preparing to lure me back to my writers paradise on St. Simmons Island. The annual Southeastern Writers Association conference at Epworth by the Sea is just a couple of months away and preparations are well under way. Soon I will be going back home, my writing home.

In February of 2012 a friend of mine told me about a local writers association. She couldn’t quite remember the name of it, her daughter had only joined it a few months back. So I Googled: “writers association”. Southeastern Writers Association was one of the many link results. Perusing their website I came upon the SWA annual writers conference in Georgia. Once again Google was my friend as I mapped out the exact location. Only an hour and change drive from my house! I could do that; I could commute even. Yeah, no. 

While the cost of the conference itself was more than reasonable for the amount of knowledge I was sure to gain from the caliber of instructors listed, the hotel stay added in naturally scared my little piggy bank. Through much encouragement from the peanut gallery, otherwise known as my better half, I booked the hotel stay along with the conference.

What an experience! The unfortunate part of the campus at Epworth is that there is not very good cell reception, particularly in the rooms, at least not for the carrier that offers quick-as-a-turtle Internet service as well. Oh wait, is that unfortunate? Really? Well, it is for those back home who want to hear from you, make sure you arrived safe, make sure you eat your vegetables, make sure you packed clean underwear. But, the lack of reception also helps you to stay connected to your muse. The one who longs for a good stretch and the nourishing rejuvenation that comes from being among fellow scribes for nearly a whole week undisturbed by the outside world on the enchanting campus by the sea that is Epworth.

At Epworth, I drank in the sleepy down home southern surroundings and took meals amongst the novice and professional writer alike. Some were first timers like me, and others had been coming to these annual conferences for years. Never was there a time during that week that I felt intimidated or that I my writing wasn’t good enough. Everyone was so encouraging and all writing pieces were celebrated.

Naturally I had to return last year. It was truly like a homecoming. Many of the writers I had met the year before were once again in attendance and I quickly fell back in with good old friends while making new ones. My creative juices flowed as I attended well thought out and information packed sessions all geared toward helping me (okay, the other attendees as well) become a better writer.

Attending those two conferences bolstered my confidence and desire to hone my craft further, to seek other venues where I could learn to improve my skill. This past fall I attended another conference, this one within my own state. As before I contemplated that since it was just a three-day conference and not more than an hour and a half drive from my house that surely I could commute each day. Nothing doing. Before I could say, “Bob’s your uncle” my room was booked and conference registration fee paid. My inner skinflint was bound, gagged, and placed in a large trunk in the darkest corner of the basement until the transaction was complete.

At this conference I gained a new insight into that dreaded inner critique. I learned how to put her in a deep dark corner as my muse and I tripped the light fantastic and churned out amazing tales of travel and toilets abroad for all to read. The most valuable thing I can do is to keep writing, and sometimes the 200-pound Acme anvil falls on someone else’s head instead. Again, not a moment felt wasted and all in attendance gained nothing but good will and positive energy.

For the uninitiated, attending writing conferences could very well be the greatest first step towards your writing career. Don’t go and be a wallflower, though. Interact, participate, and before too long you too just might be finding yourself wanting to book the reservation for the next muse-filled writing getaway.

~~Dawn Burr

Dawn is a teacher by profession but a writer by passion. Her sarcastic wit, innocent charm, and insightful reflections will have you bowled over with laughter as she ponders with you the little things in life that make you go hhhmmmm. Learn more about Dawn on her website: www.makergoddess.wordpress.com