Tehilah la-Avodah: A Psalm in Praise of Meaningful Work

I just received a small slice of perfection in the form of a perfectly-worded question.  I had asked a fellow author, whom I recently friended on Facebook, whether he thought I should pursue a job opportunity about which I am ambivalent.  His reply was stunning, both in its simplicity and its brilliance.  He asked me: “What can you do to create a path for yourself so that you can do the work you love?”

I am so grateful for his reminder that I must embrace the process of my work. I am mindful of this lesson when I wear my potter’s jeans and use my artist’s brain. But sometimes —because of the pressure to achieve financial security from my writing—when I am wearing my writer’s lenses and using my author’s brain I simply forget to focus and live in the moment.  

So, now I am logging off to follow the path to the work that I love. I am responding to an urgent need— in this moment— to write in my notebook, because writing long-hand is a completely different experience and gets totally different results from composing at the computer keyboard. Then I will head to the basement to the glazing table, where more than a dozen pieces of pottery await my attention.   

Zeh hayom asah Adonai – nagilah v’nismikhah bo: Today is the day God created – let’s sing and rejoice on it! 

How do you get to Carnegie Hall?

I have been writing all my life.  First as a student, and then later as a rabbi and teacher. But now that I am a writer, I am beginning to appreciate the discipline that true writing requires.  

This is my writer's notebook:

I never go anywhere without it.  If you see me around town, there's a good chance that I will be leaning over it and scribbling away.  While I am not particular about notebooks -- any "cow book" or lined journal will suffice-- I have found a favorite pen, which is usually hooked over the page as a bookmark.  Sometimes I sketch or highlight certain ideas, while I am mulling over whether I want to turn my jotted notes and musings into a full essay.  I NEVER take my notebook out at a red light, but I have pulled over to capture a fleeting thought. I like to browse through my notebook when I arrive early to pick up the kids and turn off my engine to wait in the carpool line.

Monday mornings, I invest a chunk of time in the revision and publishing part of the writing process.  I employ every ounce of my self-discipline to post an essay on my blog every Monday by late afternoon, even when my kids are home with me for a snow day or national holiday.  I truly believe that the way to become a good writer is the same way you get to Carnegie Hall.  So I have been practicing a lot, and I am grateful when I hear from readers-- not only from my mom-- that they are enjoying the essays.  Of course, it's great to hear from Mom, too.

This morning I was rifling through an old notebook and finally wrote a 1,125 word essay that I have been meaning to write for more than a year.  Instead of posting it, though, I decided to give you a glimpse into the writer's mind and a brief insight about how a person might progress from an incidental writer to a practicing writer. 

I have sent the lengthier piece to a colleague who I hope will publish it in a journal.  Perhaps, some Monday morning in the future, I will post a link to share those words, as well.