Morning Page Industry Resumes Production
I don't usually do New Year's Resolutions. I've tried, but I always, always fail them. Even the simple ones, like, "I will use that expensive toothpaste every night before bed" I end up failing, because I realize I don't like the taste, or I need to take some bedtime antibiotics for a few weeks and don't want to wait the extra five minutes for the fancy stuff to sit on and remineralize my teeth, or whatever.
I fail the common ones too, like "I will exercise every day" because let's face it, I won't. And unless you already like to exercise, you probably won't either. Instead I'll start off strong and exercise every day for a few weeks, and then I'll have a stomach ache, or an insanely busy day, or a trip, or something else that breaks my routine. And then, routine broken, it will suddenly seem really hard to get back into it, and I'll feel guilty and ashamed. Doubly so because not only is it a broken resolution, but it's a broken exercise resolution, which has to do with body shame and cultural pressure that implies those who are fat are failures who deserve their poor health.
As soon as you've shamed me, you've lost me. In fact, I think that's what underlies a lot of the things I don't make resolutions about. If you want me to do something, or not do something, shame is about the worst motivator, because shame motivates rebellion in me faster than a nasty smell motivates an eight year old to make a fart joke.
When I visited my dad at Christmas, he held up a Brazil nut and asked me if I knew what it was. Immediately my brain brought up two names for the thing: Brazil nut; and the old colloquial term my born-in-1917, raised-in-rural-Arkansas grandmother, my father's mother, used to use for them, 'n*gger toes'. And my brain, because context is everything, helpfully supplied that since I was talking to my father, he was probably also thinking of his mother's term for Brazil nuts. It went on to add that the term used a derogatory slur, was offensive, and was not something I should say out loud. So I froze up for a half second before I answered, "It's a Brazil nut." At which point he laughed sharply and said something along the lines of "Aha! I know what you were thinking! You couldn't say it, could you? But you thought it. Now you'll have to go write a guilt-filled essay in your self-confessional blog."
See what he did there? He tried to shame me about the fact that he and I both have in our lexicon an offensive term for Brazil nut, and I thought of it. And then he tried to shame me about my blog. I wish I remembered his exact phrasing, because it implied that my essays all tend to be self-absorbed and pointless. It's not the first time he's told me my writing and art are self-absorbed, and it's not the first time he's subtly implied my creative efforts were pointless.
The thing that really galls me, though, is that it almost worked. I started writing this entry about New Year's resolutions, and at the point right before I introduced the Brazil nut story, that was the point where I stopped and thought, "is this whole thing an exercise in self-absorption?" and almost scrapped it. And then, recognizing the shaming voice of my father, I rebelled, and decided to do exactly what he'd suggested, and write about the Brazil nut incident, because it beautifully illustrates my point.
For the record, I'm not ashamed to know an outdated and offensive term for Brazil nut. I'm not ashamed I thought of it. I'm not ashamed I almost used it in the privacy of my father's home, in that context. I know I'd never use that term in any other context.
So you know what, Dad? Suck on it. In this blog, I write essays about myself. I write from the first person. I write about my thoughts, my opinions, my perspective. If that's self-absorbed, so be it. I may be self-absorbed, but least I'm self-aware.
My initial act of rebellion for 2010 is to resume writing Morning Pages.
Let's just not call it a resolution.
I fail the common ones too, like "I will exercise every day" because let's face it, I won't. And unless you already like to exercise, you probably won't either. Instead I'll start off strong and exercise every day for a few weeks, and then I'll have a stomach ache, or an insanely busy day, or a trip, or something else that breaks my routine. And then, routine broken, it will suddenly seem really hard to get back into it, and I'll feel guilty and ashamed. Doubly so because not only is it a broken resolution, but it's a broken exercise resolution, which has to do with body shame and cultural pressure that implies those who are fat are failures who deserve their poor health.
As soon as you've shamed me, you've lost me. In fact, I think that's what underlies a lot of the things I don't make resolutions about. If you want me to do something, or not do something, shame is about the worst motivator, because shame motivates rebellion in me faster than a nasty smell motivates an eight year old to make a fart joke.
When I visited my dad at Christmas, he held up a Brazil nut and asked me if I knew what it was. Immediately my brain brought up two names for the thing: Brazil nut; and the old colloquial term my born-in-1917, raised-in-rural-Arkansas grandmother, my father's mother, used to use for them, 'n*gger toes'. And my brain, because context is everything, helpfully supplied that since I was talking to my father, he was probably also thinking of his mother's term for Brazil nuts. It went on to add that the term used a derogatory slur, was offensive, and was not something I should say out loud. So I froze up for a half second before I answered, "It's a Brazil nut." At which point he laughed sharply and said something along the lines of "Aha! I know what you were thinking! You couldn't say it, could you? But you thought it. Now you'll have to go write a guilt-filled essay in your self-confessional blog."
See what he did there? He tried to shame me about the fact that he and I both have in our lexicon an offensive term for Brazil nut, and I thought of it. And then he tried to shame me about my blog. I wish I remembered his exact phrasing, because it implied that my essays all tend to be self-absorbed and pointless. It's not the first time he's told me my writing and art are self-absorbed, and it's not the first time he's subtly implied my creative efforts were pointless.
The thing that really galls me, though, is that it almost worked. I started writing this entry about New Year's resolutions, and at the point right before I introduced the Brazil nut story, that was the point where I stopped and thought, "is this whole thing an exercise in self-absorption?" and almost scrapped it. And then, recognizing the shaming voice of my father, I rebelled, and decided to do exactly what he'd suggested, and write about the Brazil nut incident, because it beautifully illustrates my point.
For the record, I'm not ashamed to know an outdated and offensive term for Brazil nut. I'm not ashamed I thought of it. I'm not ashamed I almost used it in the privacy of my father's home, in that context. I know I'd never use that term in any other context.
So you know what, Dad? Suck on it. In this blog, I write essays about myself. I write from the first person. I write about my thoughts, my opinions, my perspective. If that's self-absorbed, so be it. I may be self-absorbed, but least I'm self-aware.
My initial act of rebellion for 2010 is to resume writing Morning Pages.
Let's just not call it a resolution.