Oh, how the Suck and I have been dancing lately. I am finishing a book – you know, THE book, the one that, even if it never gets published, has already changed my life. And we’re at the VERY LAST STEPS – the writing of proposal, the polishing of prose. THE VERY END OF THE PROCESS. And we have been here – locked into a Suck Dance – for the past six months.
I was almost done (or so I thought) when my mother was wheeled down the hall for open heart surgery. She came out, thank God, and healed and healed. And the day after that, on the day she took her first walk outside, she came back inside and fell, breaking her thigh.
All of this totally sucked.
Meanwhile, my father was sitting in a nursing home, getting more and more disabled – which, you know, sucks.And just before that, well, the economy – and my husband, a self-employed architect, lost all of his clients.
Suck.
But I soldiered on – with this little song in my head: This sucks but I will not let it stop me. This sucks but I am going to write anyway. This sucks but I am finishing my book.
Catchy little tune.
And that did not suck. Not one bit. It was breathtaking – a drop into a soft basket filled with angel feathers; a plunge into an ocean of light, love and life. And the book that emerged is incredible. It’s so beautiful. It really is. It’s my refuge, a world that I could crawl into in the middle of the Suck Storm and rest.
But then, writing the book began to suck.
Suddenly, it was all about proposals and deadlines and agents -which was, I thought, the sucky part. It was also the part where I, under normal circumstances, would… well… quit.
But I didn’t quit. But that didn’t make me feel less anxious. So I got sick.
I got achy and sleepy and bored and anxious and then I got bitten by a tick and wouldn’t you know it! That tick gave me Lyme disease. And that sucked.
And then today, while on the way to the yoga class that was supposed to calm me down, I dropped the garbage can on my foot and cracked my toenail in half. It bled. It hurt like hell. Let me reiterate. The GARBAGE can.
See, here’s the thing. I’m too smart to pretend that I don’t know what’s going on. Even as it’s happening, I know.
I’m scared.
But it wasn’t until I nearly broke my toe that I realized the purpose of the Suck. It’s not just a distraction – it’s a diversion, a clever technique that my psyche has concocted to help me channel my end of book project anxiety into something besides shredding my beautiful book out of fear that it or I wont be good enough.
The suck makes me stop and pay attention to where I am
Cuz I forget to do that on my mad rush to the grocery store->to hit my deadlines-> to lose 35 pounds->to call my son before 3 but after 12->to witness my daughters’s amazing dream->to edit my husband’s science fiction action hero comic book novel->to outrun the aging process->to not disappoint anyone->to not miss another dental appointment-> to pay my bills less late->to make dinner before I fall asleep->
The suck makes me stronger. The suck makes me grateful
The suck has taught me so much:
To write anyway. To sleep anyway. To love anyway.
To show up where I’m supposed to be on time and in relatively clean clothing.
To delegate – and to honor and appreciate the people to whom I’ve delegated.
To sit beside hospital beds and be truly grateful to be there, witnessing the healing of someone I love.
To wait. To trust. To know that, no matter how long it takes to finish this book, the angels will make sure it finds its way into the hands of everyone who needs it.
What has the suck taught you?
Inspired by a post from my friend, Fabeku, aka @fabeku
{ 13 comments… read them below or add one }
The “suck” in my life was the massive stroke that my husband, the accordion man, suffered ten years ago. He dropped on the golf course, and in that moment my life changed forever. I was 50. I had one child who had just left home for good, and one child who was about to enter her senior year in high school. I had a business that I had no idea how to keep going, and a husband who could not speak, understand English, read, or follow even the simplest directions. The other parts of his brain were unaffected, and so he knew that he was screwed, and sunk into a major depression. I could hardly put one foot in front of the other. And when he recovered, he was not the man I married, and so I then mourned THAT loss. We nearly divorced. However, Monday, that senior in high school got married, and we laughed, cried, and held hands. We are happier than we have ever been. That “suck” factor caused both of us to reinvent ourselves, and I became a writer as a result. Tragedy is truly an opportunity for rebirth. LOVE to you, MOLLY
Oh, Molly. That sucked. Amazing how the suck transforms us. Thank you so much for sharing it.
What a great post! I so identify with the obstacles we put in our own way, consciously or not, to keep from saying something is finished! We put it out to be judged with no more excuses that it’s a draft or almost complete or still being edited.
I fear the end for that very reason. I haven’t paid that much attention to the events I use as excuses but I will in the future. You’ve given me a great label to attach to them – “Suck”.
Love it!
I know! I would NEVER finish anything without the Suck. I’d just keep coming up to the finish line and backing away. The Suck makes me mad enough to push across. Thanks so much for this comment.
Can’t wait for your book! You rode the wave instead of staying behind and allowing it to crash into you. May we all be as courageous.
The Suck…well, it reminds me that I create and define my reality, that nothing is quite what it seems, unless, of course, I choose it to be.
Another great post, Amy! It caused me to realize that all of the sucks, whether I see them as major or minor, give me the option to choose acceptance and awareness or resentment and distraction. Thank you!
That’s exactly it, isn’t it? The whole work of it all – of life, of personal growth, of being – to learn to be present to what is right here, right now without jumping ship.
The Suck for me right now is the Q letter. The synopsis. I swear- now I cannot even believe I fucking wrote the whole damn book. It’s as if it was written in my sleep and now I can’t even tell you what it’s about. Help! But I keep putting one tiny foot in front of the other. One lousy missplaced line afer another. Must. Keep. Going. (thank you for letting me know i’m not alone!)
And thank you for the very same thing – so grateful to be going through this first book birthing process with all of you! Putting one foot in front of other.
I love how eloquent you make the suck. I love how eloquent you make everything! For me, lately, the suck seems to just be life. Not complaining….just observing. The glass is still half full.
I think that’s just it – the suck IS life. The trick seems to be learning to navigate the suck with the same joyful acceptance, the same expectant gratitude that we bring to the non-sucky stuff. That’s the challenge of all of this inner work/personal growth. PS You make LIFE eloquent (and more than half full) for me – so glad to have such a precious friend along for the journey.
Though everything sucking is never fun at the time, I wanted to let you know how nice it is to find another with a similar outlook and philosophy. I’ve spent a lifetime really, really embracing — and now in no way resisting — the sucky parts… cuz it’s the only way to the good stuff.
I hope you won’t consider my site link spam cuz I’d LOVE for you and your readers to experience what’s online from my now-self-published “The Black & White Book” (Yes, after the “accepted” literary rat maze SUCKED the life outta me, I’ve opted to go it alone. It CAN be pulled off brilliantly, though, so regardless of the path you take with your work, I wish you great personal success!!)
Thank you!
Rob Moore
Thank you, Rob. I appreciate your site link – not SPAM when a fellow writer stops by and mentions his work. Happy you did.