pivot

by Matt MooneyJanuary 24, 2014

It’s been 3 weeks since I checked in.  Let’s be honest; who cares.  I so appreciate those of you who read my thoughts on here (more often my pre-thoughts, which has been dangerous, but fun).  After my last post encouraging folks to join me by entering into the discipline of writing this year…I decided to attempt to create a little, online community of folks who would write together for 8 weeks.  I seriously hoped for 8 people- which, for reasons unknown, seemed the right number to me.  8 human- 8 weeks.

I received positive responses from over 50 folks and I have been trying to be faithful to help them in the way I said I would.  I call the group Flywheel because I am most certainly uncool, so I must brand everything around me with appearances otherwise.  It has a ring of intrigue & mystery that I have yet to lasso for myself.

The flies (what I’ve chosen to call the participants, mainly because I never got to haze anyone in a frat) loved the whole idea of writing and community until it actually came to writing.  I think they now hate me cause they had to actually post their writing on the assigned topic.  But someone has to die alongside their notion of brilliant words pouring onto pages- might as well be me.

santa fe

As for the family, Ginny & I went on vacation.  Stop.  Re-read.  Soak in a tub and pop the bubbly.  That is a sentence, much less a thought that has not been a possibility for quite some time.  And there is no complaining in that acknowledgement.  Since Lena came home, we hi-fived and applauded one another each night the kids were fed and alive.  It was a low bar, but the only one we could manage.  We are in a different place.  A rhythm if you will.  A place whereby vacation planning was only akin to a dentist visit rather than geometry.  It was possible and we had a ball- despite the strong opposition of American Airlines to thwart our nirvana.

In a proof of this new existence, we discussed our family and dreams and direction around the New Year.  It had been a while since that conversation seemed appropriate.  We were tired and overwhelmed and tired.  It’s a different place.  Not better, just different.  Okay, a little better and a lot different.

It’s been 3 weeks since I checked in.  Let’s be honest; who cares.  I so appreciate those of you who read my thoughts on here (more often my pre-thoughts, which has been dangerous, but fun).  After my last post encouraging folks to join me by entering into the discipline of writing this year…I decided to attempt to create a little, online community of folks who would write together for 8 weeks.  I seriously hoped for 8 people- which, for reasons unknown, seemed the right number to me.  8 human- 8 weeks.

I received positive responses from over 50 folks and I have been trying to be faithful to help them in the way I said I would.  I call the group Flywheel because I am most certainly uncool, so I must brand everything around me with appearances otherwise.  It has a ring of intrigue & mystery that I have yet to lasso for myself.

The flies (what I’ve chosen to call the participants, mainly because I never got to haze anyone in a frat) loved the whole idea of writing and community until it actually came to writing.  I think they now hate me cause they had to actually post their writing on the assigned topic.  But someone has to die alongside their notion of brilliant words pouring onto pages- might as well be me.

santa fe

As for the family, Ginny & I went on vacation.  Stop.  Re-read.  Soak in a tub and pop the bubbly.  That is a sentence, much less a thought that has not been a possibility for quite some time.  And there is no complaining in that acknowledgement.  Since Lena came home, we hi-fived and applauded one another each night the kids were fed and alive.  It was a low bar, but the only one we could manage.  We are in a different place.  A rhythm if you will.  A place whereby vacation planning was only akin to a dentist visit rather than geometry.  It was possible and we had a ball- despite the strong opposition of American Airlines to thwart our nirvana.

In a proof of this new existence, we discussed our family and dreams and direction around the New Year.  It had been a while since that conversation seemed appropriate.  We were tired and overwhelmed and tired.  It’s a different place.  Not better, just different.  Okay, a little better and a lot different.