I haven’t been hiking lately because I injured my knee (with me it’s always the knees that are the first to go). So I’ve been following RICE (rest, ice, compress, elevate) and thinking about how I want my life to go over the next few years. Now that I’ve finished my fifth book review in four months, I have some thinking space. And it’s made more urgent by what my psychiatrist told me yesterday about my likely future. Apparently bipolar 2 gets worse as you get older: more highs, deeper lows, more cycling between them. People with bipolar also have a thirteen-year shorter life expectancy than the general population.
So I want to use this down time to figure out what works for me life- and writing-wise, to make the most of the time I have left. There are so many things I could do, it’s important to figure out what I want to do. This is doubly important given my limited ‘spoons:’ what I want is not necessarily something I can realistically do. For example, I’ve seen some jobs come up lately that I would love to do, but I don’t have the mental capacity and or health to do them. I do small things for small moments each day, that’s how I get through.
This makes me wonder if it’s worth having goals or ambitions given my illness. It’s so unpredictable; I could be über high on one day and excruciatingly low a month later. I know goals are important for our well-being, and I’m an ambitious person, but I sometimes feel as though my illness has crushed them under its slimy, Jabba the Hutt weight.
But, logically, if I do small things for small moments each day, that can add up to a lot—and put me well on my way to reaching a particular goal. If I’m not in a hurry, I can do whatever I set my mind to. Just over longer time periods, and taking time for my health as needed.
For example, since March I’ve been hiking at Cobble Hill Mountain (in quotes, it’s really just a hill but some days it feels like a mountain). It started off as part of my work for my second book, but has become a mental lifeline. I had to sleep extra a few weeks ago so missed about a week and a half of hiking. And now with this knee injury I’ll miss another week or so. But I’ll get back to it as soon as I’m able.
Being outside and going on long walks is good for me, and not just in the ‘you should get outside’ dictum. Because a short walk up and down the road with the dog does little for me. But a challenge in distance or difficulty, or both, in a natural environment, is what works. I see things differently. Feel things differently. I think about stuff, but I also slide into that meditative state where your mind is focused on nothing but your next step. I feel invigorated after a forest walk. I feel like I can face the day. Mostly.
When I think about my life plan, walking is in it. I love going to the local mountain because it only takes me 5 minutes to get there. And I’m starting to know the trails a bit better. This September we’re going back to the Rockies for our anniversary, and I’m looking forward to ‘real’ mountain hiking.
Then I think about my writing plan, which is really part of my life plan: I’ve decided to write a second book. I have a table of contents to work from, and a non-exhaustive list of books and studies to read for each chapter, though there will be overlap between them.
At first I thought this would be an easy book to write, but I’ve torn down the scaffolding of my original idea and altered the design significantly. This latest iteration will produce something more complex and nuanced, but also harder to write. That’s okay. If I do small things towards it for small moments each day, imagine where I could get to? It took me five years to write my first book this way. I think it will take longer to write this one as it’s more researched and philosophical. But it takes the time it takes. As I once read: “don’t worry if it’s going to take many years—you’ll be living life anyway so why not do something with that time?”
Another part of my writing plan that spills over into my life plan is attending writing residencies as I’m able. I applied to Banff twice (unsuccessfully), and have applied to Storyknife in Alaska, which was recommended by a friend. Applying this far in advance is a bit nerve-wracking because I never know how I’m going feel when the event comes around. I just have to wait and see.
Finally, I want to have a successful book launch for my first book in June 2025! This means that, instead of writing book reviews (unless they’re related to my book somehow), I’ll try to publish two or three companion pieces over the next eight months. I have some ideas, but if you have any please leave them in the comments! And don’t forget to pre-order your copy of the book here.
