Henry David Thoreau wrote: “A man has not everything to do, but something…”

I get so caught up in getting through my to-do lists that sometimes, like today,  I get mad when I catch myself doing nothing. But doing nothing is something.

Years ago, at an SCBWI Conference in Los Angeles, E.L. Konigsburg discussed creativity and how we need negative space—white space, blank space—in our minds, in our lives, in order to allow new ideas to emerge. The only author to win the Newbery Medal and a Newbery Honor in the same year (1968), with her 2^nd and 1^st books respectively: From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler and Jennifer, Hecate, Macbeth, William McKinley, and Me, Elizabeth, and then 27 years later win a second Newbery Medal (The View from Saturday, 1997) Elaine Konigsburg is my hero. She is who I want to be when I grow up: a brilliant, accessible, prolific writer. All this being said, you would think that I would take her advice to heart and embrace the white space, allow myself to make nothing that something—sometimes, anyway.

Occasionally, when I consciously try, I give myself that nothing space…really I do. But often, like today—right now—instead of giving my mind time to empty, and the extra time needed for my imagination to kick up to high gear, and even more time to see where it leads me, I take over and get busy doing something—say writing a blog entry.

Earlier, when I was supposed to be doing nothing, I stumbled upon this passage by Brenda Ueland. I believe Julie Larios shared it at a Vermont College residency:

Long, Happy Dawdling

The imagination needs moodling–long, inefficient, happy idling, dawdling and puttering. These people who are always briskly doing something and as busy as waltzing mice, they have little, sharp, staccato ideas, such as: “I see where I can make an annual cut of $3.47 in my meat budget.” But they have no slow, big ideas. And the fewer consoling, noble, shining, free, jovial, magnanimous ideas that come, the more nervously and desperately they rush and run from office to office and up and down stairs, thinking by action at last to make life have some warmth and meaning.

And so, on this the 31st day of the old year, at the dawning of a new year, 2010, with the hope of allowing for plenty of “moodling” I make this bold and italicized resolution:

The next time I catch myself daydreaming or look back after an afternoon spent…how? and I feel those raging Puritan Ethics Monitors shaking their scabby heads over the wasteful way I spent my day I’m going to set them straight: “Nothing is something! It is what we are supposed to do. ..Elaine said so! ”

I opened with Thoreau, so it feels fitting to close with his blessing. And now, as soon as I post this, I’m going to get busy doing nothing, promise!

“Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined.”

Happy Moodling!

Max, my son, graduated from Prescott College, Sunday, with a Bachelor of Arts degree in Environmental Studies with an emphasis in Research Ecology and Studio Arts. A long hoped for, joyous occasion for which 16 family and adopted family members gathered. Prescott College is an extraordinary college, peopled by students, staff and faculty oozing purpose. And, as befitting the school, this was no ordinary listen-for-your-name-march-across-the-stage-take-a-diploma-shake-hands-leave….throw-your-mortarboard-you-did-it-yeah! graduation. This was a weekend long celebration. Forty one students officially graduated Sunday; 37 attended the ceremony. Each of those 37 students was honored with a one-minute speech by her or his faculty adviser and then spoke for one-minute. You can share a lot of information, experiences, reflections, gratitude into a minute. It was a long, emotionally-charged ceremony.  I left feeling the way I did after watching It’s A Wonderful Life for the first time—and I sooooooooo wanted to be a student again.

During his welcome speech, Prescott College President, Dan Garvey, said (and I paraphrase):

“We can live about 3 weeks without food, 3 days without water, 3 minutes without oxygen…but we can’t survive for even a second without hope…”

HOPE:  It is why we do….everything!  Because we have hopes for the next second, the next minute, the next day, the next year and after that…

As mothers, we hope to see our children grow up to live the lives they dream for themselves. I am blessed to see my children, Max and Lexi, doing exactly that.

As writers, we write with the hope of transferring our ideas into words on a page. Some hopes are simple: let me write it down so I won’t forget. Some are complex: let me arrange these words in a lyrical, provocative, entertaining order. Many go beyond: after I dredge up the best words to convey my ideas, set these words on the page, arrange them and rearrange them, pleeeeease let someone else read them and understand and feel and connect with the thoughts I am hoping to convey. Some are even loftier: let an editor connect so strongly with my writing that she/he wants to publish it and thus make my ideas accessible to others.

We breathe, eat, drink, strive, because we hope to live. We write because we hope to make connections. To twist a phrase from my family’s favorite holiday movie:  Hope is all you need!

May ours be a joyful holiday and hope-filled New Year!

My friend and writer, Marty Graham was in a bookstore reading through picture books to see what was out there, when she overheard a mother talking–lecturing–her son about his choice of preferred book. This is what Marty heard the mother say:

“That’s not a real book.”

And then Marty heard something behind her being moved back to a shelf. She wrote:

“By the time I turned to sneak my peak, mother and son were gone. The closest display was of paperback middle grades. I could have gone through them, or looked further (where had her voice come from? what shelf? what display?). I could have spent time looking for clues. Maybe it really hadn’t been a book? But then….”

This is what Marty thought:

“I will never know. I stood a moment, thinking, ‘that’s what occurred in the children’s book section at the Barnes and Noble Bookstore?. Fun to wonder, but So scary. So mysterious. Do you remember the famous line in the movie Crocodile Dundee, when Dundee unsheathes an incredible Australian wackywoo to a couple of NY Bronx street thugs?? He said: “That’s no knife…………………….THIS is a knife.”

What the heck is a real book anyway? And should we really care what our children read as long as they are reading? My brother and I used to read the back of cereal boxes during breakfast–would the mother Marty overheard consider that “real” reading or “fake” reading? Honestly, what difference does what each of us chooses to read in our spare time make? Even  pornography–if you, me, we- want to read it, or trashy romance, or comic books who cares? (And if we tell the truth,  isn’t learning  a  someone reads odd/surprising stuff  fun?)

Isn’t our goal to teach them: our children, our citizens, our tax payers, our fellow humans–all of them–to read? So they can comprehend/access  information themselves…learn the facts…judge the situations (healthcare in the U.S. included)–and make informed decisions?  To that end, isn’t it more beneficial for children to be entertained by reading–”real” and not “real” books alike (cereal boxes even)–so they will want to keep reading and by doing so learn to read better?

What is “real” reading? What is a “read” book? Should “real” really matter?

Oh my gosh! Look there! It’s a book…with words….pictures…ideas….help! Quick! Someone….everyone….

LET THEM READ IT!