My Very Own, Up Close and Personal Stupidity

I’ll come right out and say it – I’m depressed. Not a deep, droopy, dull-eyed, “what’s to become of me” despondency, but the more shallow sort, lurking on the surface. This is what happens when I shift into slacker mode and stop writing. I do write fairly consistently. In fact, my next article appears in the March issue of…oh, it’s not important. Just some magazine story about the communicative capabilities of my dogs. But what’s sent me into this dip is that I’ve yet to publish my book. It’s almost complete. The manuscript sits in my full view daily; I’m not blind (only severely near-sighted), yet I choose to ignore it.
What does that make me? That’s right, a stuper (short again for a markedly stupid person). All I have to do is take the pages, clean them up, give them a scrub, and polish them till they glitter. But I don’t.

Could I have indolenza? You know, that uncongenial affliction that combines laziness and indolence, meaning my teacup is full, and I lack the drive to look for more (excuse me, while I give my fingers a rest from typing).

It’s no fun to stand still. It’s even less fun to brand oneself a stuper, particularly when one considers oneself to be a stupidity specialist. I believe I excel in successfully overcoming encounters with stupid people. But what happens when the stupid person is myself?

I’ve always suspected that many experts have trouble following their own advice. Is not one’s greatest enemy oneself (or at least one’s thoughts)? Does Dr. Wayne Dyer ever want to beat the hell out of anyone? I think so. I can read between the lines. Don’t get me wrong – I’m a big fan of Dr. Dyer’s, but I think we fall off the wagon sometimes, and it’s not always easy to chase the rickety thing down and leap back inside, especially while it’s moving.

What’s preventing me from completing my book, you might ask? Well, there is the windowsill in the kitchen that hasn’t been dusted all week. And I haven’t written a thank you note to Geico for the insurance information they send me each and every month. But ultimately, I think it’s some sort of a fear. A ridiculous, ludicrous, nonsensical fear of what will I do once it’s done? Or what if I do a half-cocked job? Or what if I fail? Or (insert your own convenient “what if”)?

When I find I’m hiding beneath my stupidity soapbox, instead of standing atop it expounding my theories and helpful management tips, I know I need help. I try to find another writer or expert and discuss what ails me. Last night I found my aunt, the dentist, who is not only a writer herself and has her third book on dentistry coming out any minute, but who exudes motivation and gives a natural boost to all in her presence.

I suggest that if you find yourself acting like a stuper, grab someone whom you are certain is not one and tell him/her how you feel. Talking it over with an authentic person may give you the direction you need and the motivation to do what you should.

At the moment of commitment, the entire universe conspires for your success ~ Goethe

Keep thinking!

Keli

Keli@Counterfeithumans.com

 


 

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8 Responses to “My Very Own, Up Close and Personal Stupidity”

  1. I have the same problem. My manuscript is sitting in my computer, giving me the puppy dog eyes. Although, in my defense, by the time I’m finished working, doing homework or writing blogs and articles, I’m kind of burnt out.

    Plus, I have a couple ideas in my brain begging to be let out and wreak havoc upon the page.

    I’m going to knit now, and not write.

  2. Keli says:

    Wendy:
    I so understand burn out. I’m currently homeschooling my younger son. By the time the school day is done, I just want to play. But I do find, once I do sit down and start actually writing and finish what I set out to do, I feel a sense of great accomplishment. Sitting down is the biggest challenge.

  3. Maribeth says:

    I could relate to this. I have ten chapters done for a middle grade novel. I enrolled in a writing course to help me finish it and prepare it for publishing.
    I don’t feel I work as diligently as I have it within me to.
    I recently read the difference between a writer and a pretender is a writer writes everyday and a pretender thinks about it. I write every day, but I find it’s not my novel that I am finishing. I don’t want to be a pretender I want to be a writer!

  4. Sy says:

    I wish I could write a book! Something I feel like doing, but I have noooooooo idea what it would be about. Or fact or fiction, or pretty much anything. So the fact you got that far, nothing at all to be depressed about. I dont know you, but still look up to anyone who has done what you have.

  5. Keli says:

    Maribeth:
    Exactly! I write daily, but on articles or my blog, not my book. Would it be too much to ask to just pick up the manuscript and have a look at it? (I ask myself). Apparently.

    Sy:
    Thank you so much for your kind remarks! Obviously, you are a thinking, quite intelligent person. Thanks for the visit!

  6. Suzie says:

    Dearest Keli,
    I wish I could write as well as you do. I enjoy reading your blog.
    Please publish your book. I love the way you write.
    I would buy ten copies of your book!

  7. Julianne says:

    I can so relate to this Keli. Apathy is like a drug for me. It does nothing but bring me down but I go back to it again and again. I feel better about myself and the world when I’m productive but sometimes I just can’t get there.

    Finish your damn book already! I cannot wait to read it!

    How’s that for motivation?

  8. I’m constantly amazed at people who have such hectic lives and who still have the – no not ‘have’ – make the time to sit down and write.

    I realise that I must waste an awful lot of time.

    Good luck fitting everything in and getting to it. How about setting an alarm clock and placing it on the manuscript? You decide the time it goes off and then when it does go off……

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