Passivity Rocks ...and Bites

For once, my procrastination techniques should have been paying off.

I have been going to see a physiotherapist for my aberrant ankles for nearly three weeks and she has only now seen fit to provide me with a few piddling stretches in order to aid in my recovery. Tendonitis, she explained, is about resting. I thought I could handle that.

Instead, it's been stressing me out. I'd been under the impression that physiotherapists make a person work. If I go to my chiropractor or massage therapist with a new ailment, I invariably leave with a new exercise or two. That's just the way it's supposed to happen. However, this course of physiotherapy has been anything but what I expected. I simply lay there while she applies pressure points and laser light to specific targets and then lay there some more while hooked up to electrodes. Sometimes the electric current pulses, sometimes it doesn't. Truly, it's not as involved as I'd anticipated. My lack of contributions to my well being is terribly disconcerting. I suppose my lack if active involvement is my contribution and that is what is helping me get better but my laziness just seems so ... lacking.

Fortunately, those days of enforced passivity are over. Now that I have stretches to do, it's up to me to avoid doing them as religiously as I should. I can actively procrastinate and it feels far more productive than sitting around justifiably doing nothing. I'm back on track to being my old self - ankles and psyche.

Ongoing Identity Crisis

In keeping with my whole life improvement, follow your heart and expand your horizons BS, I had the sense to attend a workshop that was put on by Simon Fraser University regarding career options in creative writing and editing. Apparently, there are careers out there. Sort of.

There were three presenters, all of whom were well spoken, built on the realistic expectations that a would-be writer should have and repeatedly expressed the notion that many of the "job titles" can and do overlap.

However, from the first speaker came a solid set of statements to ponder, including a nagging little question that haunted me throughout the remainder of the seminar and does still.

Who am I?

What a silly question. I am me.

Unfortunately, that denotes nothing other than the possibility that I am terribly shallow person who gives remarkably little thought to my own existence. To expand then:

• I am a medical laboratory technologist who has written operating procedures and summary reports.
• I am a wife who writes the Christmas letter every year.
• I am a poet (published in one upstart online e-zine, to boot!) of fluctuating skill.
• I am pretty damned good at producing a successful cover letter and resume.
• I am a blogger.
• I am finding it difficult to condense all of this into a one or two word descriptor fit for a business card job title.

I could simply call myself a Writer but that seems vague and undefined, if not down right lazy. Until I sort through this a little more, though, it will be remarkably difficult to describe this part of me as anything else.

It will be remarkably difficult to describe myself even as a Writer. To date, I generally comment that "I write" or "I write crappy poems every now and then" or "I blog". This does not come across as a notably confident, serious take on what can be the truly meaningful part of my day and can not be helpful in finding out who I supposedly am as a Writer. I can not spend my time describing myself as all things to all people, yet need to cover my (growing) breadth where applicable.

A little trial and error, a little exploration and a few title changes will, in the end, lead me to who I am in a world where Writer may yet be the best description.