So I'm Sitting Here Thinking About Writing Something Insignificant

So I’m sitting here thinking about the writing assignment presented by my writing group:  what goes on in my life that is insignificant.  I reflected on raising my two children as a single mother, my ex-husbands, my teaching, my volunteer work, my family and friends, and my writing.  These were important aspects of my being, and definitely worth recording, but that was not the assignment.  I went on to think about my childhood and teenage years.  Well, there were some close calls and some visits to the hospital emergency room, definitely not insignificant.  Exasperated, I put the assignment aside and walked away from my desk thinking that perhaps a fast paced walk through the woods would help me conjure up something.

 

Later that morning, as I walked Sheba on the trails of Haverford College, I pondered the assignment and found my self quickly pushing it out of my head.  I got agitated and annoyed.  Why do I have to do the assignment?  Why not write about something I am inspired to write about? I’m in this group to creatively explore my writing self, and if I want to write about men I’ve met on the Internet, then by God, I will!

 

I continued to stroll through the wet leaves on a muddy section of trail as I allowed myself to flashback to my college years when I had to write, on command, essays of no importance.  My grammar was horrific, my sentence structures and variances were non-existent, and my ideas were impotent.  I struggled to keep a C average.  I hated college essay writing! 

 

I remember one college assignment where I had to write about an exhilarating experience.  I spent hours brainstorming ideas such as skiing, partying, going to fraternity mixers, hiking, and spending all-nighters studying for exams.   I had many encounters to choose from, but the first time I rode as a passenger on a Harley-Davidson motorcycle won the decision.  I chose one moment during a day trip on the motorcycle and poured all of my scholarly knowledge into writing a descriptive essay.  I described how I felt when the wind hit my face while riding at 95 miles per hour.  I talked about the reactions of the people in their cars as I waved “hello” when we passed them at such a high speed.  I spoke of my feelings of magnificence and empowerment.  The pulsating vibrations I endured, while sitting on the back of the motorcycle, took on a whole new meaning of happiness.  I wrote about that, too.

 

I got a B- on the essay.  I was proud of that B-.  It took many revisions, much input from peer tutors, and personal willfulness to stick it out and complete the assignment.   From this experience I learned I could accomplish anything I put my mind to.  I discovered that I had the necessary desire to set a goal, the willful determination to achieve it, and the dedication to manage my negative self throughoutthe process.  These traits came to serve as a conduit to accomplishing future endeavors. 

 

Self-knowledge is a powerful tool.   I use it today to get me through frustrating predicaments such as writing an essay on some irrelevant moment in my life.