Today has been surprising in a number of ways. I started in on work in Beginning Japanese by Kluemper et. al, along with the workbook: this led into an impromptu nihongo (Japanese language) lesson with a native-Japanese-speaking family friend (listening and speaking, plus reading). (She saw that I was working in this textbook and got excited.)
It’s kind of something to be asked to explain things in one’s own life, in a language of which you just started renewing study, and in which your last class was 15 years ago!
That…is a long time, isn’t it?
I think I remember that I gave myself the goal of becoming a fiction writer when I graduated with my BA in 2005. But at the time I had just begun a medication which …apparently somewhat drastically, changed the way my brain worked. Because of this, I thought that I would not be able to write (fiction) professionally.
Relative to what I had known before, I felt inhibited, but this may have been just the effect of my prefrontal cortex (Executive function) gaining more control…which would have relatively “inhibited” me. That’s kind of what the prefrontal cortex is known for…
I came to the decision to stop fiction writing through thinking that I had been upsetting my own life (self-sabotaging) to gain experience to write about. I also found my life surprisingly peaceful after graduation (I didn’t have a job at the time), and did not want to introduce conflict where there was none, for the sake of …what, writing a story?
At the same time, I had been having fears that I was splitting my mind apart in order to handle …in effect, acting, as up to three characters at once (I don’t think I could have handled four or more at that time).
Twelve years later, I know a lot more about myself and about how the mind works, generally, than I did, then. I’ve also been through a lot, even if a lot of that life was acted out virtually. I’m not sure if medication changes have helped with this, but I’m certain it didn’t hurt.
What’s happening now is that I’ve realized that perhaps I can write fiction again — if I let myself do it. I’ve been keeping a fairly tight clamp on it, for multiple reasons (see above). But it may — now — be possible for me to write without taking it too seriously.
And by “too seriously,” I mean, “as reality.” I have historically had a problem separating, “fantasy,” and “reality,” to the point that I’ve wanted to invent new terms to refer to the living world and the mental world. After all, the mental world is not “unreal” to the person experiencing it — it’s just not objectively existent (except as electrical patterns in the brain, which bothersomely enough, simulate reality).
In the extreme this ranges into hallucination, though I have a tendency to have more inhabited a space in between living in dreams (asleep) and never fully waking up (derealization), occasionally moving into what has been called “illusion” (receiving sensory input but cognizing it in a distorted manner: like running water in the sink and hearing repeated high-pitched beeps) and hallucination (in my case, literally smelling things that weren’t there — which I’ve been told is an uncommon form).
On top of this, though, is…the sense that I’m just picking up on more of reality than most people do. I’m relatively comfortable with this explanation, now.
These two states have coexisted ever since I was in my early teenage years; I’m currently in my mid-thirties. I’ve just about had it with second-guessing my own intuition (which is what has been happening for about the last 20 years) because it doesn’t fit someone else’s abstract (and narrow) model of “reality.”
What I’ve learned is that what happens in one’s private mind is real enough, although I also think we have more control over this — and more power as to what happens in our own minds — than we think we do.
It’s also very easy for my brain to freak itself out while trying to explain things it cannot, and coming up with the single most dramatic explanation it can think of, while disregarding the equal validity of multiple scenarios, and also the fact that none of them are proven.
In any case, I began this post wondering if I should — seriously — decide to dip a toe back into fiction writing. Every writing class that I’ve been in has mentioned…bad first drafts (though they universally used a more colorful adjective for “bad” which I’m not sure I’m allowed to say on WordPress!). They don’t have to be novels — short stories or flash fiction might be more graspable at this point — and maybe I might begin them here and then edit them for a time before posting them up. (I do have enough conflict and experience in my life, now, to have a working base: which was not as apparent to me when I was in my 20’s.)
Something about getting back into learning Japanese language has sparked this. I’ve wanted to be able to read Japanese for a very long time, and it’s somewhat…gratifying that I still recognize most kana, even if I don’t remember the stroke order for all of them.
What I most want to do which is within my grasp, is learn to read Japanese. However, I have heard mention of the idea of attending Japanese classes with family…which would give me at least one convenient practice partner, where it comes to speaking and listening.
I’m gaining strength in this from realizing that many creative people have interests that span different media; so there is, in effect, no reason why I can’t be into drawing and painting and writing. (Or drawing, painting, writing, and music!…though I’m much more of a consumer of music than a musician, myself [I play a little guitar, but not consistently enough to sustain the toughness of my fret hand].)
And there is no reason why being a Librarian would negate any of this. It may, actually, help; at least, so long as it doesn’t take up all of my time. In the field, I may be grappling with these cultural transmissions more than doing the abstract work of learning organizational systems…
I do wonder, though, if getting back into reading and writing (fiction and nonfiction) is something that will help propel me forward in a career in Libraries; as versus doing Art. The family friend I was speaking with, tonight…was encouraging me not to let go of my dreams (one of which was learning nihongo; I’ve wanted to do so ever since I was in Middle School). This, in turn, and in combination with the degree I’m seeking (MLIS), would prepare me somewhat to work in Hawaii as a Librarian. From there, it’s just a relatively short jump to get to Japan…(and it’s kind of shocking, the number of Japanese in Hawaii!)
…but is my dream to be a great novelist, or to change the world in the way I can, or to make art?
…it would be nice to be a writer. And to do the Art for myself and to keep myself engaged and healthy.
I think so, yeah. The Art is for me — to sustain me. The Writing is the reason I’m alive. The Librarianship is to serve a social good while earning a living. And the nihongo is one step toward broadening my world.
That sounds really, really, good. 🙂