The Joy of Doing Things Badly

I would personally be a prime candidate for writing a book called, "The Joy of Doing Things in an Extremely Uptight Fashion While Striving for Unnecessary Perfection", but that wouldn't be a fun read, would it? I've almost never been able to relax and just enjoy what I do.

When I started reading Veronica Chambers' "The Joy of Doing Things Badly" this morning, I honestly wasn't expecting much. The description at www.fictionwise.com made it sound a little fluffy, but it was half price so I figured I'd give it a try, maybe have a few giggles, and move on with my life.

But look at this quote:

We think everything we do has to be up to snuff, and we forget that the pure, uncensored joy of living in our own skin comes when we are not attached, 24/7, to either our fans or our critics.

It's on screen #44 of the 1209-screen book (remember, for me it's an eBook :), and it stopped me cold.

Joy? I work hard. Most of the time. Although rarely 100% to my own standards. But even when I DO meet my standards, I tend not to find much joy in it because I always figure I could have done more.

To take just one of the many examples I could give, last May I ran two half marathons, two weeks apart. The first was a lot of fun. (I do realize that for non-runners, 'fun' and 'half marathon' don't go together, but they do, trust me. :) The second was agonizing, and I nearly quit on several occasions.

Here is a picture of me at the finish of the second race.


Do I look happy? Compare me with the woman behind me. SHE looks happy, doesn't she? I look like I'm finishing a death march. Which is exactly how that race felt. I was utterly exhausted and miserable and right at the edge of quitting for at least half the 13.1 miles.

So what changed? For the first race, my first race of the year, I just wanted to have a comfortable race and feel like I'd done well, like I'd given a good solid effort. For the second, I decided (based on precisely nothing) that I had to be five minutes faster. The entire race, I was fighting myself to go faster than I could handle. And I had a terrible day.

I think, I hope, that "The Joy of Doing Things Badly" will help me learn how to NOT do things like this to myself.

I am a planner and goal-setter and I will always be one, and I'm fine with that. Everything I've done that I'm proud of has come as a result of my planning. But I also have to accept that a) not everything will go as I've planned and b) damn it, I have to have fun along the way.

In the first draft of Aardvark, one character says to another, "Whether life is about the journey or the destination doesn't matter, because you don't seem to be enjoying either." We need to enjoy our lives, my friends. We really do.

I'm doing a 14 km training run on Sunday morning, and I am going to run that thing with a "I'm so freakin' lucky to be strong and healthy and able to run" attitude, and I will relax and have fun. Then I will go out for lunch and have dessert. :)

Do something this weekend (or next week if you don't see this until then, or next February if that's when it works for you) that you really enjoy. Just a little thing or a big huge thing. But do something.

It's your life. Enjoy it!

At this rate it'll be a pamphlet!

At the start of the day, Raoul's first scene had 2327 words. Now, it's 936. I knew I'd be shortening it because my first scenes are always a bit "Who are you people? Let's hear you talk so I figure you out", but cutting that much was a surprise. What's left is tight though. :)

I spent about 30 minutes just staring at the first few pages trying to figure out what needed to be kept and where I wanted to start, then slashed a nice line through the first 4.5 and it came alive. All of the content and none of the rambly. (I'll keep the rambly here, where it's a little closer to belonging.)

There are presently 69 scenes (quit giggling, it's just how it worked out!) and I'm hoping to be finished in 60 work days. There is hope!

In other news, I did my first session of a stretch class this morning (to fulfil the "take an exercise class you don't think you'll enjoy, and go to all the sessions" task, #64, of my 101 tasks in 1001 days project). And I didn't hate it! I am what you'd call not so flexible, but I was able to get through nearly everything. Sure, a few times the only people who couldn't do a stretch were me and a woman who looked to be about eighty, but we tried. And I felt nice and relaxed after. Which probably helped with Raoul. So, win win!

Until I tighten up again by next week.