"We are an anthology, a composite of many selves." -William Boyd
I always find writing fun and supportive. My octopus mind takes over at times. When it whirs on a variety of levels at once, I multitask with all tentacles in play. I can spend hours free writing but often it takes diversion and determination to dig out the gems to shine.
In their pursuit of what happiness means, psychologists have discovered it has a lot to do with the definition of "I." Many believe each of us exists in a community of competing selves where happiness of one often causes the misery of another.
Paul Bloom, a professor of psychology at Yale, feels that within each brain several selves pop in and out of existence. He says, "They have different desires, and they fight for control - deceiving and plotting against one another."
Yes, I've held conversations with another Penny at times.
I've argued:Come on. Come on. Okay Okay. I will. I will. No. No. No. Stop it. Stop it right now!
a.
Bloom's concerns remind me of the self-talk that goes into my writing life. One of my selves just wants to go outside and play, not sit at the computer and face a deadline or follow an idea’s raveling out.
Another follows a disciplined daily routine. Yet another wants to read and eat words. I have used trickery many times. Now I realize I hold the reins to my selves . . . or not, according to Bloom.
A division of labor could become a solution. Maybe if some of my selves write poetry or work on my Blogs, others focus on new projects and photography, then I’d have more freedom?
If they have fun and discover happiness in their own separate pursuits, I could have polite and rational conversations with them.
I’ll call the selves: Huey, Dewey and Louie, for Duck’s sake of course and to get them in a row. They may clone with time and projects. I will provide separate clipboards for each.
It shouldn’t take much to encourage them with Tom Sawyer politics.
I can see their heads bobbing, feathers awriggle, and eyes flashing with creativity. Although the site of pens clutched in webbed feet feels like a stretch, I will design an opposable thumb or two for the ends of wings. Notice the figures in the first photo above. I will sneak away as they chatter between writing notions. They will find security and happiness with their own projects and feel no competition or alienation.
What a relief.
Ah, the wind in my hair as I run by the sea, my octopus mind twirls without the interruption of diverse conversations.
Discover the humor in an iris.
