Day: March 19, 2023

Sitting in my office on this Sunday Morning with my cup of decaf and watching my own Zima Blue scrub the sides of my pool, I’m struck by what my life is right now. I’m a professor and an author. I’m working on a sequel to my first major market novel and thinking about the opportunity to turn that two into four and then move on to the next thing. I’m considering all of the possibilities in the world, yet I am held back by this understanding that I’m not entirely right. I’m dealing with serious hypertension and, following the recent death of Lance Reddick at the age of 60, I’m freaked out. He died of natural causes, which for people who look like us generally means a heart condition. 41% of African Americans have high blood pressure. So many of us ignore it or at the least don’t change our habits or monitor the situation early enough to fix the problem. I don’t. I haven’t. I’m walking around pushing 148/95 on a daily basis. I’m basically the walking dead unless I get this situation under control.

But how? Medication is not helping. Lack of sleep is making it much worse. In the early hours I read about this device called a Resperate, which in essence monitors and directs you through a 15 minute meditative breathing session. This is the Way. It is what I’ve been running from for some time now. I have avoided silence and peace out of fear of my inner thoughts, and here I am learning that I need to confront those thoughts and fears and feelings in order to not die. So, that’s step one on the agenda. Get back to the breath.

Yesterday continued a long string of very short blogs with that occasional burst of energy and information that makes me feel like I am getting back some of that old juice that make me feel like I am legitimate producer as a writer. However these lulls–these ten minute poop fests of 50 words or less are becoming more common. I think there are a number of reasons that I need to dig through in order to make sense of them. The primary one being stress. More specifically, high blood pressure and the ever-increasing fear of impending death. We all gotta go sometime, but nobody ever thinks it’s right now until its too late to do anything about it. Well, I’m starting to think it is right now unless I do something about it. As such, I haven’t been much for the words.

I don’t talk about birthdays much. I find them to be extremely self reflective moments but often they are done in such an external fashion that it is hard to ignore what a person thinks or feels about themselves and their own aging. I, for one, hate getting old. As a reflection I tend to do really childish stuff. Thus I spent today playing games and watching superhero movies in search of that young me who is locked in this old body. It actually felt really good.

I’ve been talking a bunch about being ill and not having the mental energy to write. It cost me a few days worth of productivity so far. In fact, I was only able to work on two chapters today and minimally at that, vs. doing three or four or more. I’d like to be further along at this point vs. hovering around 1% a day. At that pace it is likely 100 days to a first draft. That is way too long. In the eyes of the top publishers, a novel ought to be ready in 6 months. A solid writer should therefore turn out at least two books a year or even more. I’d like to be able to get to the point where I am a 4 month guy and turn out three solid pieces of work a year, and possibly do so while being able to roam the planet like some writerly Kane without the Kung Fu. Thus the legend must continue onward through this re-motivational period.

In essence it is about routine and rhythm. I have yet to find either, but I am getting closer. I have the schedule book at my fingertips in which I plan to script out something workable with room for change based on location (we travel a lot) and finding ways to squeeze in writing time in all situations. For example, writing on a plane has become impossible. One of two things has happened: I’ve either grown too large and the writing space has thus become cramped, or the planes in which I fly are offering less space. Since I can do nothing to fix the latter, I ought to be finding time in my schedule to defeat the former. I’m not. I should be.

These are the little things that cling to my daily thinking like barnacles on a ship. I need to be better at clearing away such distractions and getting myself right and in the proper headspace to write. Look, I was better already. At least better in these ten minutes than what I put forward yesterday.

Some Thoughts:

1. Giants… trying to trust the process here.
2. Food… Gotta get back on a better page with food. Especially having a better and fuller breakfast. It all starts with Raisin Nut Bran.