Four years ago I woke up in shock that the world had gone mad. When Donald Trump was elected president it haunted me for days.
This is the morning after…
The day after the 2020 election, it was a very different walk on the beach for sure.
2016 and the Day After
This year on December 25th, which is both Christmas Day and my 50th Birthday, I am stepping into a new story…
and I know what I know what I know about how stories work:
Stories won’t let go of you until they’ve been fully heard.
This is release #8 of sixteen Story Hits (vlogs) from as far back as 2013. Some are my favourites, some are yours. If you missed week #1, you can start at the beginning with: Out of the Water here.
I will be writing more about these moments in both my upcoming book: STORY STONES (coming fall 2021, and in my one woman show: O MY GOD (touring spring 2021).
On my 50th Birthday, if you’re on my VIP list, I’ll be sending you 50 Days of Christmas Story Gifts from Dec. 25th to February 12th. If you want some story goodness filled with sneak peeks into the creation and rehearsal process, plus be able to pre-order the book, and order tickets to the show, click here and the let the gifting begin! (You’ll get a bunch of cool story right away)
UNDER THIS, PLEASE PUT THIS IN THE PARAGRAPH FORMAT:
Tina Overbury is a core-communications specialist who works with individuals and organizations who feel called. She is a storyteller, performer, and a professional listener who works with narrative and story structure as a vehicle for human connection. Her work is rooted in Myth, Mysticism, and the practice of personal faith. She brings thirty years of collaborative storytelling in theatre, film, marketing, team based selling, and workshop facilitation. She is the founder of Live Your Best Story, a weekend retreat of deep listening held on Bowen Island, BC, Canada and is the voice and story behind TinaOLife, home to Story Stones, TinaO’s online gathering of listening in to sacred stories. Tina is a proud associate of PowHERhouse media where she listens and supports the ‘stories’ of whole and integrated leaders of tomorrow.If you’d like to know more about TinaO’s approach to STORY and receive updates about STORY STONES the book, and O MY GOD, her one woman show, click here and you’ll be added to her ‘stay in touch’ list plus she’ll send you a few short intro videos about what story means to her. CLICK HERE for TinaO Story stuff.
Last fall I had a particularly hard time. Between September to January I had three emotional surprises, which took me out. Looking back now I can tell myself, they were no big deal: a break-up, a spiritual dumping, and a date gone badly, very badly. In light of what is going on right now, it seems insignificant, but I can tell you, it was not.
I know this zone. I was on the verge of literally coming apart, and I’ve been here before. I started writing letters to an old friend I feel really ‘seen’ by.
This is one of them.
As I read it just a few months into this pandemic, I can’t help but notice how prophetic it sounds. I needed this. Not what happened in the fall. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.
But this.
This time we’re in.
This pause which has changed everything.
It has given me what I’d been crying out for.
Dear A,
I’ve begun working again like she’s a lover.
Damn.
It’s not that I don’t enjoy working, I do. Like I really do. Like I’m kind of obsessive about it, but once I finally stop for the day, I can’t help but hear in my head:
‘this was supposed to be the fall-back plan’.
You know?
It’s always been my ‘fall back plan’ but for all the reasons, it keeps becoming my actual plan. If I am honest, which I’m not, not about this anyway. I never wanted this life. I have created it. I’m not complaining. This is the coping that looks like happiness and keeps me away from knowing what love is.
When I was sixteen I had five jobs. I’m not even kidding. How on earth did I ever think that was normal? You’re going to laugh… Wanna know what I did?
I was a birthday party clown on Saturdays at a community centre… seriously.
I was a Saturday morning receptionist at a realty office, for three hours only, 9am to noon, and it took me 90 minutes to get there by bus… seriously again.
I was a late night waitress at a pizza joint. I started at 11pm and worked until 3am, on Friday nights — which comes before the ninety minute commute to my 9am job the next day (see above)…yep, still seriously.
I worked at Kentucky Fried Chicken during the week… not even kidding. I was Miss KFC in the Miss Teen Vancouver Pageant.
And I can’t remember the fifth. Hmmm…what on earth was it? Maybe I was teaching cooking or running a spring break day-camp for kids, or who knows what else. That was me at 16 years old. I worked.
I worked hard.
I still work hard.
Back then, I did all of that and sang in three choirs, and was the lead in the musical, and and and and and and…
Back then I worked because I never wanted to go home and I needed the money. I moved out at seventeen and was making my own way in the world. I work now because I have three kids, I live in a stupidly expensive part of the world, and there’s no one at home to nestle in with but me. Yes, I’m a mom and everything but they’re getting older and who wants to hang out with your mom? And I don’t want that for them either. Go. Get. Your. Life. is what I always say to them.
And this. This. What I’m doing right now. It’s ridiculous really. I woke up at 2am and couldn’t get back to sleep so I started scrolling, then the obsessive thoughts started as they do for me, so I had to shut it down by writing to you, so thanks once again for being the ear I can go to. But this. This isn’t what I want at 2am.
Last fall when I started my Ministry of Story, and I was leading at church, the rhythm of my life was just starting to feel ‘right’, like my true rhythm. I was excited to get up every morning. My timing was slow and my days were full. I do love full days. I want to squeeze every ounce of life out of each beautiful moment. Slow is good, and full is good.
I was beginning to let my guard down.
I was married for 17 years and all I wanted was that rhythm and I did have it briefly when we first met, but it didn’t last. He fell into a massive depression which lasted for years and I filled in the emotional and financial gaps for all of us, by working, baking, crafting, and everything else you do when you are loving on a family. When he left, I had to throw myself back into work again to keep the lights on, and I have been functioning on and off of overdrive for the last three years. I swear I’m sixteen again and working five jobs. I’m never home. I’m clutching my way to get there, and scrambling just as fast to get away.
But that’s the piece I’m craving.
I want to be ‘at home’ somewhere.
When the Ministry work arrived in my life it was if God was saying: Read. Write. Walk. Listen. Share. Rest Tina. Rest.
Rest into this.
I’m not a religious person, and I wrestle with the Minister part of my nature but it’s actually what I want.
I want a contemplative life.
I want a rhythm of love.
I want to drift through my days.
I want time to listen.
But right now, my time is so full. There isn’t a minute in my day when I’m not doing something and I’m scared I will lose another ten years of my life running away from the quietness I crave.
And yet I am starting over and work is required. I don’t own a home and I would like to. I pay my way. I have very little debt. I will be able to pay for my kid’s education — somehow. And I’m building multiple streams of income so I have a retirement plan to move forward with. But hon… it’s still too fucking fast for me, and it’s too much.
That’s the truth I’m afraid to say. I actually don’t have enough space in my life to say it.
It’s too fast.
It’s too full.
And it’s actually not who I am.
I just needed to say that out loud so I can wake the fuck up and stop before it takes over. I know this path and it ramps up slowly. I have lived this cyclical rhythm my entire life. First at 16 to survive. Then in my 20’s to feel worthy. Then in my marriage to feel wanted. And it’s starting again so I can run faster than rejection. Because work doesn’t leave. It’s actually the one part of my life I can hold on to and I won’t be alone there.
That therapist I started seeing last week (she’s lovely btw) did the usual ‘story collecting’ process with me, her pen and her pad of paper to map out my relationship with attachment. I don’t want to spend ten sessions just talking about my past so I blasted her like a fire hose with all of my details in the fifty minutes we had together. I haven’t told my story in awhile. Not like that anyway — all at once, and not in the experience of asking for help.
At one point she looked at me, down at her page, then back up at me again and asked ‘have you ever been in a relationship where you can let guard down?’.
It’s a funny question, because the answer is yes, but then maybe the answer is no.
I know that the way I’m working right now is not sustainable, nor is it going to make me happy. I will get all ‘the things’ I tell myself I need like: a house, a car, no debt, my kids education paid for, a business that pays me… And I do need some of those things, but not at the expense of me.
I don’t want to be an expense. I want to be a treasure.
I don’t know how to do that.
I can self-care. I can therapy. I can consciousness group. I can exercise. I can mastermind. I can wisdom circle. I can pray. I can I can I can I can…
What I want right now, is the I without the can.
I want to let my guard down and rest for awhile. Oh God. I just really want to rest for awhile.
I want the rhythm that started to happen for me last August before everything blew up. Work is not the lover I want, nor the partner, and definitely not the rhythm I am.
There. I said it.
And you heard it.
And now I can hear it too.
I know you work as much as I do. I’m not sure what your story is here, but maybe one day we can just sit for awhile and not talk about it or do anything. I’d like that. You can pull out your kite on the beach. That would be fun.
Thanks for listening. I think I’ll try to go back to sleep now. I made it to 5am.
hahahaha…
Love you.
xxT
p.s. I’m so glad the fires are out over there. My heart my heart my heart.
If you’d like to know more about TinaO’s upcoming book: Story Stones or performance dates about her upcoming show O MY GOD, click here.
TinaO is a storyteller, performer, and a professional listener who works with narrative and story structure as a vehicle for human connection. Her work is rooted in Myth, Mysticism, and the practice of personal faith. She is the founder of Live Your Best Story, a weekend retreat of deep listening held on Bowen Island, BC, Canada and is the voice and story behind TinaOLife. Tina is a proud associate of PowHERhouse Impact Media Group where she listens and supports the ‘stories’ of whole and integrated leaders of tomorrow.
As part of TinaO’s audience, CLICK HERE to receive a personal message from TinaO about the power, beauty and invitation of Story, and your personal Story from the Core. You will also be able to stay up to date about TinaO’s performances, storytelling events, and upcoming retreats and workshops.
I don’t like vacuuming, and I particularly don’t enjoy vacuuming stairs. In order to do it well, I have to change the nozel, plug and unplug the vacuum, position the vacuum itself sideways across each step so it doesn’t fall off as I move up or down, and no matter what I try, I always end up banging or nicking the wall along the way. Ugggggghhhh it’s just too much work. Vacuuming stairs is totally a chore.
I don’t mind doing the dishes. Yes, I have to give up twenty minutes of my life. Yes, I’m often cleaning up someone else’s jam, or scraping macaroni and cheese off someone else’s lunch pot, but it’s not so bad. Doing dishes may be work, but it doesn’t feel like a chore to me.
I don’t really have an opinion about laundry anymore. It’s not work or a chore, it’s a habit. If I grumbled every time I unballed a dirty sock or folded a towel, laundry would be pretty obnoxious for me. I just do it. It’s not work. It’s not a chore. It’s become a practice.
Here’s a Zen Proverb I love because it sums up chores/work/practices and writing beautifully:
Before enlightenment;
chop wood carry water.
After enlightenment;
chop wood carry water.
You’re likely writing something or you wouldn’t be reading this post. You’re probably hoping to find a tip to make your writing process easier, more efficient and maybe even more joyful.
So here it is: Don’t make writing a chore.
That’s it. That’s all. Make writing a choice by building a practice around it. Simply write and keep writing, and as you write, explore new ways to show up to the page again and again and again until the process becomes your practice and it feels like coming home.
Here are some tips to developing your writing practice:
Notice when words come easy for you. Is it when you’re the most awake with more thinking power? Is it when it’s late and there’s less energy to resist? Is it something else?
Try commiting to a small daily word count. Some people do their best work in a sustainable way with a 300-500 daily word count. Did you know Stephen King follows a 3000/day word count and some days he’s done before 11:30am? (BTW… if this makes you groan, you’re in good company. This is not my process).
Try linking writing with a regular activity. E.G. everytime you’re on the bus, write 300 words in your notebook.
Try using writing prompts by finishing a sentence which then becomes a paragraph. Set a timer for three minutes.
Try blocking out one, three to four day weekend per month and create a writing retreat around it. BTW…this is how I write in a non-chore, non-work way. I call myself an immersive writer.
These are just a few ideas to play with and there are oodles more out there. We’ll talk about many of them here.
Here’s the bottomline: Don’t make writing a chore or you’ll be vacumming stairs all day, and who wants to do that? Bleccchhhhh…. not me, and Meribeth and I certainly don’t want that for you.
We want to help you write, finish and deliver your book… repeat.
Here’s to your writing adventure,
Much love,
TinaO
TinaO is a Writer, Story Coach and the other half of The Writer’s Compass with Meribeth Deen. She is the host of the TinaOShow, collecting and telling Stories from the Core and the co-owner with Gina Best of The Leap Learning Lab. The Writer’s Compass encourages writers to get off the beaten path and create impactful stories from the core. We teach: writing isn’t precious, it’s a practice.
Want to join our online writing group? Check out our private Facebook Group: Core Story Writers here.
Let’s keep this really simple. Meribeth and I write because it’s how we connect with ourselves, with you, and with the world. Language is like oxygen for us. Writing is Breathing. Writing is your birthright.
Seriously, it is.
Here are some thoughts we shared under an umbrella on a rainy day on the West Coast. We’re a little pixelated because this started out as a Facebook Live so it’s been downloaded and uploaded a few times… but hey, it’s not about how we look, it’s about the message right?
What is important for you to claim, to understand, to share, to experience, to love, to deepen with?
Here’s to YOU and YOUR WRITING…
with support,
TinaO & Meribeth
TinaO and Meribeth Deen are the creators of The Writer’s Compass, a method of writing that encourages being lost as a way to create, connect and deliver writing from the core. Want to join in our online writing group? Check out our Private Facebook Group: Core Story Writers here. You can also find our programs: WRITE and PUBLISH on The Leap Learning Lab.
The writing process is messy and it’s supposed to be. When you truly dive into a story and let all that you are jumble up with all that your story asks to be, there will be many times when you have no idea which end is up.
And this is good news. When this is your experience, it means you are on the path even if you think you’re lost in the woods.
You look up, flushed, and a bit out of sorts as if you’ve emerged from a deep dive and strangely peaceful even though you’re not sure where the shore is. This is what it feels like to write from your core. You nailed it: the last paragraph, page, stanza, totally delivered.
You get a bit of a rush. Your confidence spikes and your endorphins kick in. You decide to do the unthinkable: show it to someone. You practically leap over the sofa as your partner comes through the door and thrust your journal at him. “Read this. Tell me what you think”, you say. So he does. Then he looks at you funny. But not funny bad, funny weird. You know the face: polite cheeks just a little too high because of the tight smile, and the distant but encouraging eyes. Yes, he is being super friendly but you can read it all over him. He doesn’t get it.
You get that dropping full stop in your stomach. Your bum cheeks let go. You smile back and say “thanks” as he says “it’s good”.
Good.
Right.
Damage done. Your second guessing starts. You start to stagger and stammer through “I just started. I’m not sure exactly where I’m at yet. Really. Hey, thanks for looking at it. No really. I’m okay. Thanks for looking at it.”
Then what do you do?
You stop. Right?
Or maybe it’s like this: You’re writing something deeply personal. It might be a memoir piece. You might be capturing a sliver of your life that was treacherously difficult but because you lived through it and came through stronger for it you feel an intense desire to write about it. This horrendous thing which like a phoenix, you rose from the ashes as it blazed this knowing inside you: to whom much is given much is expected is WHY you feel compelled to share your story. And so you do. Bravely, courageously and unabashedly let us all in.
Again, this is good.
This IS what we write about.
Your instincts are bang on.
But then something happens.
You write about it instead of into it. You know what you want to say so you say it on purpose. You don’t know this, but your story is now dying a slow painful death inside of you. Because you are so clear about the impact you want to make you take us right to the target but lose us because we didn’t discover it with you. The painful details of your story begin to feel brutal and obvious instead of devastating yet transformative. Your journey takes on a caricature quality because it has become a vehicle to drive instead of a partner to navigate. As the reader, we’re now bored. We’re judging. We stop listening not because we don’t believe you, but because we can’t hear you. We hear your commentary instead.
Harsh right?
I wrote it to protect you from draining all the beauty out of something you treasure as sacred enough to make a difference by giving it away. I want you to have your dream. I want your story of survival into thriving to be protected and nurtured until it’s ready. I want that for you.
You see, your story has to live in order to connect. It has to sit with you as you write it like a mysterious loving friend who word by word lets you in on a precious secret. A part of your writing process is supposed to be unknown to you. We want to go with you as you discover the layers that live between the details, in the pauses, the breaths, and the moments of waiting. But a story needs to be ready for that. Sometimes we have to spend a lot of time alone first, being obvious and hard hitting with our words and images until our bruising heals and we no longer need to give our words away. That’s when we’re free. That’s when it’s time to let someone else in. We invite them we don’t need them.
There is a line between public and personal for every writer and it’s going to be different for you than it is for me. Here’s the way I think about it: Stories are like children and we’d never send them out into traffic without us – that is, not until they’ve grown up a bit.
Meribeth Deen and I had a good chat about this line today. This is what we came up with.
TinaO is a Core Story Specialist and a Program Director of PUBLISH with Meribeth Deen for The LEAP Learning Lab. She’s a writer, speaker and the founder of TinaOLife – a hub to Live, Give and Be Your Story, plus the deep listening weekend retreat Live Your Best Story. She’s been in the PR and Marketing world since she could put words together and has been a professional network marketer for over twelve years. She teaches: selling isn’t slimey, marketing isn’t make-believe and writing won’t give you an aneurysm (it’s not hard). You can be yourself in all that you do. In fact, that’s what the world is waiting for.
