Obstacles -- (PE)

 

There is a long rust streak which runs along the new siding on the back of my house. It is located in an area repairs had to be made to last winter. I contacted the contractor I hired to do the repair requesting he stop by and take a look at it. It is not a large spot. It is unsightly, more importantly, there has never been any rust streaks running down the siding of the house before. This is new and clearly should not be there. I have confidence he will see the problem put to rights once he takes a look at it and we discuss it, but the stain is still there. In some moments it feels like a sign, a sign that I am a terrible homeowner. A sign I should get out now before I ruin the whole damn place.

That way of looking at the problem is my problem. An obstacle.

According to the dictionary an obstacle is something that obstructs or hinders progress.

Being able to identify your obstacles is both a blessing and a curse. It is a blessing because you know something is in the way. If you can see it and identify it you can remove it or navigate around it if need be. The curse is when you develop this magic eye for obstacles, if you’re not careful, you see obstacles everywhere, in virtually everything. Everything is a big job. You become burned out and want to avoid as many obstacles as possible. Eventually, you can’t see anything that would make it worth your while to remove them.

There have been more obstacles than usual for everyone in recent months, I have had as much trouble as everyone else has had with them. No more. No less. This morning I am facing a tough one. The obstacle keeping me from the final polished draft of my work in progress, The Wizards In The Woods.

I made the mistake of asking for tougher comments on this novel. A mistake when you are going through the change or at least the period before the change because you never know how you are going to process new developments. Be careful what you ask for.

I have had a terrible time processing those comments. They have hurt deeply and immobilized my progress at times.

At first, I reprimanded myself for my feelings. Then I took some time and thought about why the comments hurt so much. Criticism kills the vision you have in your head of your work. When I explored the vision I had in my head, I admitted what I hoped the story had turned out to be was not completely accurate.

It was not like I felt the book was perfect either. This was not my first rodeo by any stretch. I looked to my feelings and admitted I have a strong emotional attachment to this novel. The story I imagined was stunningly beautiful, a love letter to the beauty of the family farm, what my parents spent the last thirty odd years building and to family. A gift to those I love. A fable for the coming generations. I wanted to write it. I needed to.

I am not entirely my mother or my father or any of those who have come before me. I don’t know what I’ll be able to contribute down the road, what I am capable of when it comes to the farm.

I know one thing, I am a writer.

The Wizards In The Woods, was a story I could tell.

I held it out and said, “Take it, this novel is my offering, my gift.”

I got, “Very nice, it needs work. Here and here and here and HERE!”

That was tough to process. I am working through it.

I found myself with time to work last night and unable to open the binder holding the copy of the novel I am currently working with. This morning I was awake, at five-thirty and still having trouble getting to work on it. I thought about the website I needed to be designing and the wood violets in the planters in the front yard which have sprouted seedlings where I don’t want them. They are threatening to take over an area occupied by rock. I thought about getting out in the yard early before the lawn service arrived to remedy the problem and give the lawn crew more to mow down.

Both the novel and the violet invasion are problems along with the roof and plumbing and that pesky rust streak. I felt sure if I didn’t get to work on the novel in some small way this morning, it might be lost to the land of unfinished projects forever.

This novel is one that should not be lost. If no one else ever feels the same as I do about the book, for me, it is a treasure. It tells a story I needed to read when I needed to read it. One of perseverance, magic, and love. A story of family, legacy, change, home, and a wizard named Kafka. More than avoiding my obstacles I want to see Kafka home. Safe.

Nothing shows you more clearly how many different kind of obstacles exist better than sharing your art with the world. Nothing seems to help me more than looking at why the obstacle exists, working through my feelings, and finding the thing that makes climbing over it, removing it, or navigating around it worthwhile. Getting Kafka home makes this obstacle worth climbing.

This morning I worked through my feelings and printed off a clean copy of the novel to work from. I am getting started on fixing a problem with my timeline. The main character’s life has taken a bad turn, when he returns home a few minutes after said incident his mam knows everything. He wasn’t that far away what does this woman have, a crystal ball? (I found that problem myself over the long weekend. :) ) It’s time to get back to it.

What makes getting around your obstacles worth your while? What is waiting for you on the other side? Once you find the answer to that question you’re golden.

Until next time…

Always Be You.