Musings
an Online Journal of Sorts

By Alyce Wilson

Lawrence Ferlinghetti

As the cold weather breaks and spring begins, the depression brought on by Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) is lessening. The oppressive weight of cold, gray skies has cleared, replaced by the natural optimism of bouncy blue days.

Still, I have my ups and downs. I think I can identify two main causes: stress and internal self-talk.

Stress is obvious. Not only are The Gryphon and I planning our wedding this year, but I've got a lot of other things going on, such as Wild Violet. I'm currently struggling to put the Spring issue out, but I keep running into scheduling conflicts that compete with my ability to do design work.

There are other projects, visits from family and other guests, and a pretty constant schedule of activities since the holidays.

There's the stress of unanticipated negatives, such as a tire going flat, which took me two days to deal with. (Turns out I'd bent my rim, which had to be ordered and then replaced.)

Or there's the minor stress of hearing my dog gained four pounds for no apparent reason in the past year. Though she's not fat, I worry whether I'm taking good enough care of her, or if she's headed towards obesity and health issues.

Then there's the stress brought about by hitting a plateau in my efforts to get into better shape for the wedding. My results no longer show on the scale, which has remained more or less steady for the past year. Yet, I'm finding that some clothes I haven't worn since last summer are now a bit big. I know I'm building muscle tone, but I miss the feeling of accomplishment I used to get from watching the scale go down.

The Gryphon will be the first to say that I'm too hard on myself, that I expect too much out of myself. Part of this comes from having been an oldest child. We tend to be perfectionists, tend to strive to do everything at the top of our game. Nothing short of raging success is worthwhile.

And I admit, I thought I'd be much further along in my career by this stage in my life. Not that there's any magic number by which you must achieve success. I'm a writer, not a pro athlete, so getting older means getting better, right? Still, it's frustrating.

Of course, The Gryphon points out that I've got Wild Violet, which gets acclaim from people in the literary world. We'll be participating in an event for Philadelphia area literary magazines later this month, where I'll no doubt make some connections.

I've helped a lot of writers with Wild Violet, sometimes helping them to refine their writing, other times giving them exposure and boosting their confidence. That's led to good things for many people who deserve it.

The other day I joked with my friend The Poet that maybe I'm destined to be the Lawrence Ferlinghetti of the indie literary movement, creating a space for other writers to flourish, much like Ferlinghetti's City Lights Press and book store helped promote the Beats. Of course, I don't have a beard.

That's not all I want for myself, to be honest. And what holds me back? The mundane, the every day. I guess it's simply a matter of making time for myself, to work on the nonfiction book I've started, or finish my novel. Or go prospecting for an agent, and try to sell that poetry manuscript.

Now that spring is here, it's easier to feel positive. In terms of toning up, I know I'll get more exercise now that my dog, Una, and I no longer have to hide from nasty weather. In terms of my writing career, I'll be more motivated to work on things when the light lasts longer and my spirits are charged up.

Hail spring!

Copyright 2006 by Alyce Wilson

March 2007 Index

Musings Index

What do you think? Share your thoughts
at Alyce's message board (left button):