foxtales

Poems and Prose by Tim Fox

  • Memoiries Can’t Wait

    For a long time, I’ve thought about writing memoir. Not autobiography, which is mainly an act of chronology (this happened, then that happened, then this happened), but memoir, which is more about finding meaning and universal truth in what has happened.

    Several things have held me back. First, I’ve never been comfortable writing in the first-person, but that has started to change since I started writing my blog.

    Second, memoirs–at least the famous ones–seem to always be about deep personal trauma that I have been blessed to have never experienced: rape, incest, child abuse, horrible parents. Not part of my life. My life has been blessedly boring.

    But as painful (and, I hope, cathartic) as it must be to write about trauma, I wonder about the meaning found in an ordinary life. A life of Catholic schools, big public colleges, stable families, steady employment. A life, in short, of privilege. Maybe because such a life is more typical (or maybe not?), the meaning found in it might be applicable to more people, and thus worth exploring.

    I don’t know; this is just something I’ve started to think seriously about undertaking. I would be interested in your thoughts in the Comments section below. And while you’re at it, you can check the box to get email notification of Write Fox Blog posts.

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  • Does This Run Stop at Eichelberger Street?

    In life and running, you must have a plan: a clear-cut guide to exactly how you will get where you are going, exactly how long it will take, and exactly how you will know when you have arrived.

    You must hold this plan firmly in your mind at all times before you start to implement it. You must be firmly convinced you will not waver from it, no matter what happens between now and the start of your plan. You must do this because you are a Responsible Adult who has Big Responsibilities and you have not gotten to be this kind of person by being a Lollygagging Cakesniffer.

    Cakesniffer

    Then, as soon as you start to implement your plan, you must blow it all to hell.

    You must do this because that is really what being a Responsible Adult is about. It’s not about starting at Neosho, going west to Jamieson, turning south to Willmore Park, running through the park (the path that winds around the pond, not the one that goes by the big old tree, because that one has a hellacaious hill, whereas on the other path all you have to do is dodge duck droppings and angry geese the size of armadillos …), east to Hampton, and north back to Neosho.

    No.

    Being a Responsible Adult is about standing in front of your house on Neosho after you have developed your brilliant plan, looking west, and thinking, “Forget that. East.”

    Because you know that as a Responsible Adult, you will be able to handle whatever uprooted chunks of sidewalk, ill-timed traffic signals, or reeking piles of dog doo stand in your way. It’s the Lollygagging Cakesniffers who never change course, or their minds, or their hearts.

    And if there’s one thing you, as a Responsible Adult, do not want to be in life, it’s a Lollygagging Cakesniffer.

     

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  • The Art of Procrastination

    I have learned that part of every writing project I take on is the feeling, usually on the day it is due or the days leading up to it, that I have bitten off more than I can chew.

    Right now I’m struggling with my two-book review for the Post, due today, of course. Part of the challenge is condensing two 400-page books into 600 words. The right words. At the right time.

    Well, it’s intimidating. And in some ways, it’s more difficult when you have a choice of media to use. To compose on the computer, or to work it out the hard way on a yellow legal pad, scratching and deleting and moving as I go? Almost always it ends up being a combination of approaches, including thinking about it distractedly as I stare into space while driving around town, eating breakfast, drinking coffee, or running.

    I’ve often said that procrastination is a critical part of the writing process, or any creative process–because you aren’t really procrastinating, you’re working it out in your head. Then when it comes time to actually do it, a lot of the thinking has already been done.

    So what it comes down to at the end is discipline. Forcing yourself to make the time and finally do it, because it the end, at should be transcription as much as creation–taking what you’ve already created in your brain and making it a physical thing.

    So … back to work.

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  • Mind Games

    “What is the ugliest part of your body?” Frank Zappa once asked. “I think it’s your MIND,” he answered, after considering your nose and your toes as possibilities.

    That is certainly true when it comes to exercise. All of the other reasons/excuses/rationalizations for not doing it are ancillary to the work of the true enemy, your MIND.

    So much of exercise is psychological, and this is especially true of running. I sometimes say that running is the ultimate proof of “if you think you can and if you think you can’t, you’re right.” It’s mind over matter. It’s thinking, “I can’t go on,” and “I don’t want to go on,” and “I just want to walk,” and “I want to be in bed,” and running anyway. Overcoming your mind is the hardest part of the whole process, and it is a process: getting out of bed, getting dressed, getting gear together, getting out the door.

    But when I’m actually doing it, instead of thinking about doing it or all the reasons that I can’t do it, my mind is my greatest ally. Focusing on pace has helped with that. So has imagining climbing a flight of stairs when going up hill, or spotting a landmark ahead and thinking, “I just have to make it to the fire hydrant. OK, now I just have to make it to that mailbox …” The little victories add up.

    Some weeks are good for exercise, and some weeks are not good, but the good weeks always feel better than the bad weeks. On the good weeks, everything is clearer, and I don’t have the nagging feeling that I should be doing something. On the bad weeks my mind becomes ugly again and everything else is muddled, too.

    But every day, the one thought that keeps me going is this: Even the most out-of-shape person out running is out running! I think they have the most beautiful minds of all.

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  • Pace Maker

    For the first year that I ran, I rarely thought about pace. Survival was my first concern, then speed–breaking the 10-minute-mile barrier. But I didn’t know how to think about controlling the movement of my feet to attain that goal.

    Then, last week, a running partner told me something that makes so much sense it’s embarrassing that it hadn’t occurred to me before. To go slower, keep your feet under your body. To go faster, let your feet extend beyond your body. Think about and feel where your feet are in relation to your core and consciously make adjustments from there.

    The result, of course, is smaller or wider steps, which means more or less ground covered, which means a faster pace–without killing yourself by making your legs actually move faster. They just move a little further with each step.

    The impact of such a modest adjustment, and my consciousness of it, started be thinking about similar modifications I could make to cover more ground in my life. Rather than straining to run faster, I could just be more mindful of what is happening right under my feet. Where do I stand? How does it feel? Is it time to stretch, or time to tread lightly?

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