When I was preparing to move, in addition to decluttering, I read some books on making changes. Something that several books mentioned is that when you go through a change in your life, there’s the time of letting go of the old things, a time of building the new things, and sort of an in-between time that one author called the Neutral Zone.

The Neutral Zone can be a time of uncertainty and a time where you feel out of sorts. You’re no longer in your old life but haven’t fully stepped into the new one.

I feel like I’m in the Neutral Zone. I’m all moved so the old life is in the past. But although I’m fully moved now, I’m still in the process of settling into my new life and community. I’m also going through some decisions related to work which leave me feel like I’m just hanging out in that Neutral Zone..

At work, they had us watch a video about how to navigate change. It was meant to be applied to changes in the workplace, but it was applicable to regular life, as well. And it even talked about the concept of a Neutral Zone (although the video called it something else).

Anyway, change seems to be a theme in my life. I had honestly thought things would be all settled in by now. But instead I feel a little uncertain and hesitant. When thinking ahead to this place I am now, I wasn’t taking into account the Neutral Zone.

I took two nights and the better part of three days to spend time alone in a log cabin in the woods overlooking a meadow. I had some writing-related decisions to make, and I wasn’t getting anywhere with the decision-making process at home. I’m pleased to say that I found the answers I was looking for. Amazing what some complete alone time can do. Although this morning I was surrounded by a dozen-plus deer, a coyote, a chipmunk, and a raven, so not really alone. 🙂

There was one thing about my stay at the log cabin that was unfortunate. The beds were all in a loft, and the steps to the loft were too steep for my bad hip to negotiate. So I had to sleep downstairs on the couch instead of in one of the comfy looking beds. I almost fell coming down the steps the first time, so I knew it wouldn’t be safe for me if I had to get up during the night.

I swear the cabin seemed a little bit haunted. More than once I heard what sounded like someone tapping on the door’s window. I also heard what sounded like feet sliding across the wood floors. I kept telling myself when I’d wake up to weird noises that “It’s just the cats.” And then I’d remember my cats weren’t there. The second night I was so tired after not sleeping well on the couch, that I just slept most of the night through. Woke up once to a loud thump, but I think it was all just logs creaking in the change of temperatures at night.

This cabin was located at the horse camp I attended when I was a kid. They used to tell us lots of ghost stories about the area. So I’ve always sort of felt that place was a bit spooky. Being all alone on a secluded hillside away from the main camp area and hearing bumps in the night was actually amusing. They’d set me up perfectly as child for a ghost-filled weekend.

UPDATE: I tried writing a poem today about yesterday’s visit with the herd of deer and the coyote. It seemed like a poetry-worthy moment. But after a good honest try? Nope. Whole lotta nope. Oh, well. It was a cool moment, though. 🙂
UPDATE:

I’m finding that writing memoir is like excavating the past. I’ve been digging in one area, but that leads to another completely different spot full of memories. For me, it’s such a mixed bag.

I’m just focusing on my childhood. Depending on how this goes, I might write about adult years at a later time. But for now, things will probably only go up to about 7th grade. Essentially the ending of a traumatic season of life. Although it’ll be focused on elementary and junior high, it won’t be Young Adult fiction. Or at least not intentionally. Some pretty adult and graphic topics.

For me, memoir has also proven to be a bit triggering. I was reading something aloud at a meeting last night, and suddenly had a flash of memory that stopped me in my tracks. I had to stumble around a bit to get back on track with my reading. People were looking at me with worried expressions, and I could imagine they were wondering if I just had a stroke. If they weren’t so concerned, it might have been embarrassing. But I didn’t feel judged. More like supported.

I think I’m going to head down to the library this afternoon and see if they have copies of Writer’s Digest and The Writer. I’d like to dig up some more articles on writing memoir. I’ve read a lot online, but I really like reading in print better. My eyes aren’t always behaving well when I read on the computer or phone.

The working title of the memoir is Growing Up in Mayberry. It’s both descriptive and ironic. The title will, of course, change, but I find it’s helpful to have a title/label to work with to keep things in focus.

I’ve done so much reading on writing lately, I feel like I’ve been taking a writing class. Here are some of the better books I’ve read, in case you’re interested:

1) On Writing: A Memoir on Craft, by Stephen King
2) Writing Down the Bones: Freeing the Writer Within, by Natalie Goldberg
3) Bird by Bird; Some Instructions on Writing and Life, by Anne Lamott
4) The Artist’s Way: A Spiritual Path to Higher Creativity, by Julia Cameron
5) Your Book Starts Here, by Mary Carroll Moore
And a handful of memoirs.

All of these books (other than Your Book Starts Here) are things I’ve read before. But reading them all together, one right after the other, while taking extensive notes along the way, and putting things directly into practice has been interesting. And eye-opening. I feel like something’s being birthed in me. I just wish I didn’t have to juggle it all with my job. But I’m not in a position where I can retire yet. So the juggling will continue for a while.

I do get random days off, though. Tomorrow is one of them, so I hope to get some writing/reading/editing/exploring done. 🙂 And I think it’s time to call my publisher again to see about getting those book rights back.