This week I am learning what it means to be okay. To be okay with imperfection and uncertainty.
I’m sure at this point in the semester we feel as though everything should be coming together. But, as always (right? there’s nothing new to the end-of-the-year/semester scramble) we are panicking and wondering what we got ourselves into as we struggle to find motivation and enough coffee to keep us awake late at night.
However, strangely so, I am finding that it’s easier for me to work on Capstone now. Not that my pieces are coming together or anything (not even close!), but I think I am over the fear of having to create something new, from scratch, that will be fabulous and glowing and ready for that May 8th afternoon. I am okay with not knowing what’s going to happen. I am even okay with how my pieces are growing and changing and are unfaithful to me, throwing temper tantrums and running away and forcing me to ground them. Haha. Do you ever feel like they are your children, your babies (maybe only you girls will relate with me here), and it hurts to see them grow up but is so rewarding all the same? I dunno, maybe I’m just being too sentimental again.
I read a short story for my Non-Western Lit class about a Bengali woman who lives in Seattle with her 3-year-old son and travelling husband. Her father, who has recently lost his wife, comes to stay with her for a week, and the story flip-flops between both their point of views in a personal essay, first-person-narrative form. I found it interesting that it kept me thinking about my Capstone pieces rather than the theme of “West meets East” for my class. It kept showing me that writing about the ordinary in a meaningful way is so possible. It doesn't have to be some revelational moment in your life. It just has to be beautiful.
Check in time. How are you guys really doing? Are you okay with uncertainty? Are your changing pieces slowly turning into something you know you'll be proud of?
Sarah, I can totally relate! On the one hand, I'm feeling very unprepared for the end of the year, but on the other, I have this weird peace about it (though maybe that's just my "who-cares" senioritis coming out, ha).
ReplyDeleteReally though, I was talking with McCann in our capstone meeting last week, and even though she made me realize that I still have a ton of work to do on my pieces, they don't necessarily have to be PERFECT, and I need to be okay with that. We talked about how there's this stigma that your capstone experience should produce your best and brightest work, but in reality, you might like something you wrote for another class better. In other words, capstone doesn't have to be the pinnacle of your writing career. (I mean, why should it be, when we're all going through a really turbulent time as we prepare to graduate and get "real jobs"?) I AM feeling better about my pieces as time goes on, and I think I WILL be really proud of them at the end of this journey, but right now I'm just trying to "enjoy the ride" and take the inspiration as it comes. I'm glad you're doing the same, Sarah! :)
I actually feel okay with how I'm doing in this class. My poems are at the tinkering/fiddling stage where it’s a matter of “blue” versus “dark,” just trying to iron out those kinks that nobody but a fellow writer will really notice. My essays…I’m a bit less sure of. The food piece has a theme now, but I seem to have stonewalled on the letter-writing one. And to be honest, I'd be happy tinkering with both of them for a very long time. Especially the food one. Taking sections out, putting them back in, trying to decide what foods to highlight is almost as much fun as cooking the actual recipes are. As for “capstone=pinnacle,” my natural inclination to genre writing lessens that temptation. No matter how proud I am of my writings for this class, I think my best work has been produced elsewhere. However, I know that these pieces, especially the essays, are much more accessible to my family than my favorite stories would be, so I'm excited that I can show them my skills in a genre they'll understand
ReplyDeleteI definitely resonated with your post, Sarah! I like the metaphor about your writing being a child that it hurts to watch them grow up--and turn out differently sometimes than you had wished. You could maybe extend that metaphor to the writer's need to "let go." Just like parents must relinquish their obsession with having a perfect child, a writer must relinquish their obsession with having a perfect piece. Otherwise, it will not be able to properly "grow" and flourish.
ReplyDeleteI agree with you and Sarah Schock that I'm starting to feel more peace about my Capstone writing not being perfect. I definitely started out with that idea that my Capstone writing would be the pinnacle of my college writing career, but I've readjusted my expectations. That's not to say I still struggle with perfectionism as I write/revise these pieces, but it's gotten a bit easier.