It’s my job to take my creative life seriously. It’s not just a hobby, it’s a way of life. Much like my hotel life, I knew it wasn’t going to be a summer job when I first walked into the main dining room of Chateau Lake Louise. Something sparkled within and whispered, ‘this is going to be fun…’ and it has been for over twenty-five years. Yes, there were speed bumps along the way, but, that’s life. You learn from those hiccups and move forward.
During my hospitality career, I have reinvented myself ten times over from busser to server to fine dining server to host, to supervisor, to f&b manager to switchboard operator, front desk agent, duty manager, front office manager, general manager, and now director of human resources. Every position, every transfer came with me learning more about the hotel life that I needed to grow. Every experience provided me with what was and is needed to maintain this creative life. Thank you, universe.
Steven Pressfield shares in his, The War of Art, a professional recognizes her limitations
She gets an agent, she gets a lawyer, she gets an accountant. She knows she can only be a professional at one thing. She brings in other pros and treats them with respect.
I am not at the stage where I need to hire an entourage, but one day soon. I know I need to be a pro at what I do best. Write. I have been given this talent to tell stories and over the years I have been guided to write memoir. I ended up working for luxury hotels for a reason. I wanted to be a writer who shared my story. The universe listened and provided me with circumstances to end up on top of a mountain overlooking a glacier-fed mountain at the age of nineteen when I was reborn as my true self. A creative being.
I don’t like to dwell on the past, only when I am working on my memoirs, so I won’t tell the poor me story. The one where I was dancing the balanced life of being a writer and working at a hotel. Before I made that statement, it was, I was a manager at a hotel trying to write. What turned me around was rewatching the movie, Singles, and one of the characters said something similar, I’m an actor who happens to be a maître at a restaurant. My creative being stood up and cheering, ‘This is what we need to start thinking!’ and I did and I was living that life. Fast forward, moving across the country, starting a new life, building a farm, a global pandemic, and my comfortable hotel life became a one-person show, the team of fifty dwindled down to five and we ran a hotel for a year. There was no room for much more. The writing suffered, my well-being suffered, but I played a good game. I continued my morning pages to maintain the physical act of writing freehand, and I wrote blogs each week for Monday Blogs, but my memoir was fizzling out much like the rest of the world trying to survive the heart of the pandemic.
Stop the Movie
I had to tell myself to turn off the movie I was replaying in my head. The story of thinking just because the pandemic shut down everyone’s job and I was lucky enough to keep my job. But at what cost? Working and being on call 24/7, no, I am more than another number and I let the ego wiggle itself into my life. Then I said, stop. Stop the ego related thoughts and stop going through the motions. So, I do what I do best. I sat in silence. I meditated, went for walks, joined a writing spring group, and jumped back into my writing life. I reinvested back into my corporation. I shook my head and told myself I would be fired for letting my second book fall to the waste side when I gave myself a deadline. I can hire myself and I can fire myself. I can also bring myself down a peg or two when I get too ahead of myself. I also have to coach myself to get back to my memoir. So here I am coaching myself on the page, I’m my own cheerleader and have the biggest pom-poms waving in the air, shouting motivational and loving cheers.
Steven Pressfield share, if we think of ourselves as a corporation, it gives us a healthy distance from ourselves. We’re less subjective. We don’t take blows as personally. We’re more cold-blooded; we can price our wares more realistically. Sometimes, as Joe Blow himself, I’m too mild-mannered to go out and sell. But as Joe Blow, Inc., I can pimp the hell out of myself. I’m not me anymore. I’m Me, Ince.
I’m a pro.
I love this image. I am a pro. I am going to sell the hell out of myself.
Thank you for being here with me today.
Are you struggling with your writing life? Do you need to get back on track? I would love to hear from you. Maybe I can help you get back to the page. Let me know. I’m here.
Until Next Time, Keep on Typing…