Stephen B. Hebert

In this letter to Gus: Golf is a hard game, but it can provide us with resolve to embark on a new journey.

Mental Meltdowns

Is this the right neighborhood?

A father writes to his eleven-year-old son after the massacre in Uvalde: “I’m an American. I’m a Texan, too. But, mostly, I’m at a loss.”

Workable #23: Idiosyncrasy is the Only Option

it's not working yet

This month, I did start to dig back into my fiction, but I'm still not fully in the swing of things. Here's what I posted to it's not working yet:

...so you do you...!

Workable #24: Start a Meditation Practice

Meditation can offer a way into creative work.

Workable #25: Writing and Exercise

One thing is true of both: I always feel better afterward; I’m always glad that I did. :)

Workable #27: It Will Never Be “Ready”

Get rid of the idea of “ready.” It will never be ready. Instead, think about when a piece is finished or when it needs to be shared.

Can we gain objectivity by seeing things from a third-person perspective?

the unruly buddha

The Fly on the Wall

Workable #19: Set a Time That Works

what's next?

I always end these monthly missives with this question. While I know I can look to the future and see quite a bit on the horizon, mostly our move to California, I don't really feel like thinking about what's next. I feel like sipping this coffee, listening to the new Wilco album, and enjoying today for today.

Happy June!

Photo by Josh Hild / Unsplash

Is this the right neighborhood?

Stephen Hebert — Wed, 25 May 2022 22:15:35 GMT

What a sad week in America.

Two nights ago, I was in bed, wide awake, thinking about how I hadn't taken the time to talk to Gus about the murders in Buffalo and Laguna Woods. Then, Uvalde happened.

I wrote this for Gus this morning. To be honest, I hesitated to post it because I didn't want to get into some kind of flame war on Twitter or Facebook. I didn't want to be dismissed as "political" or "living in fear."

But I've decided to post it because it reflects how I feel today. It also reflects the very real emotional struggle that many parents of school-age children are going through. How do you process the fact that we're living in a place and time where we compare the relative carnage and horror of school shootings? How do you watch yesterday's news in Uvalde and then send your kid to school today?

Some people aren't lucky like I am; some people don't have this choice. If they want their families to eat, then the kids have to go to school.

Anyway, I'm sure some who read this will disagree with me, and they'll want to turn this into a policy debate or an argument about the merits of the second amendment, federalism, and the rules of the United States Senate. That's fine. I'm not here for the debate right now, though. I'm here as a parent of an eleven-year-old kid; I'm here as someone trying to make sense of the world around me.

Thank you for reading.

25 May 2022

Dear Gus,

When you were born, Mom and I lived in a neighborhood in Houston with a fairly high crime rate. Sometimes at night, we would go to bed and hear gunshots from somewhere in the neighborhood. We didn’t typically feel unsafe, but we did feel sad. We always wondered what was going on and hoped everything would be okay. In general, though, we lived this kind of bulletproof existence: whatever was going on to cause the violence, it didn't affect us.

I remember a particular night, however, when our thinking changed. One of our neighbors was the victim of a violent dispute that played out right in front of our house. Thankfully, she was okay, but the incident had a deep impact on us.

You were only about a month old at the time, a little helpless thing. I remember holding you in one arm, all bundled up like a baby burrito, while peering out the window to see if the police would arrive to stop the violence happening on our front lawn. In the aftermath of that, Mom and I talked about our decision to live where we were living. We loved the neighborhood. We loved the people. We didn’t want to move. But, we both agreed: we were adults who were making a choice. You, on the other hand, were an infant who could not make any choices for yourself.

So, we moved. We moved because we wanted to honor your life. We moved because we had a duty as your parents to protect you until you could protect yourself.

The murders in Uvalde yesterday brought all of this back to mind.

Thankfully, your school is already out for the summer, so we don’t have to decide whether or not to take you to school today. We don’t have to worry about you hiding under a desk. We don’t have to wonder whether the school’s lockdown drills have offered you — or your teachers (my colleagues) — any advice that will actually save your life.

Instead, we get to sit at home today. You have a golf lesson later this afternoon. Things will go on in a painfully normal fashion. We can even ignore all of this, if we like. We are lucky.

Really, though, we can't ignore it.

As a teacher, though, I live under this cloud all the time. School shootings happen. The United States seems to be the only place where they happen regularly. And, at least so far as I’m aware, it’s a relatively new phenomenon. I was a junior in high school when Columbine happened in April 1999. That’s the first school shooting I know of. It rocked my high school. We had outside counselors available the next day. We spent time in classes talking about it. We processed it because it was so unthinkable.

Now, though, I wonder if it’s become routine.

As I watch politicians posture in the wake of yesterday’s violence — the victims are apparently in the thoughts and prayers of Ted and John and Greg, for example — I wonder, of course, how I should talk to you about this, but I also wonder whether we should move to a country that doesn’t feel like it’s tearing itself apart. It’s become more and more clear to me that our 18th-century constitution is no longer up to the task of governing a 21st-century nation.

In truth, we are fortunate that I can even ask this question: we are fortunate that we have the skills and the means and the ability to relocate to another country. Perhaps we could find a place where gun violence isn’t a regular occurrence. Perhaps we could find a place where minority rule isn’t the norm, where the filibuster doesn’t stop every meaningful piece of legislation, where the people care enough to make access to healthcare (including mental healthcare) a right rather than a privilege so that these unwell individuals get the help they need rather than walking into an elementary school and opening fire on a bunch of children.

I don’t know.

I’m an American. I’m a Texan, too. But, mostly, I'm at a loss.

Today, I feel like I’m standing at that window again. I’ve got you wrapped up in your baby blanket, I'm holding you in my arms, and I’m looking through the window at the violence on our lawn. The choices I make deeply impact you. You live with me and Mom. You’re eleven years old, and you don’t get to decide that right now.

So, once again, I find myself wondering: Is this the right neighborhood?

Love,

Dad.

P.S. I'm attaching this picture of Beto O'Rourke. Some people think politicians are only out for power and that everything they do is calculated to appeal to voters. Sometimes, I think this is true. Such thinking is called "cynicism." In truth, cynicism gets us nowhere. Really, cynicism has led us to this state of affairs where we no longer trust in our community and in our leaders. We no longer believe that our public institutions are taking care of us.

I know what I wrote above was informed by that kind of cynicism. I also know, though, that I don't really like being cynical. At the end of the day, I think people aren't just motivated by self-interest. When we are at our best, we are motivated by the common good.

This picture of Beto O'Rourke can be interpreted cynically: just another politician posing for the cameras. But, having followed Beto for a number of years now, I've come to believe that he does actually care. This might be a great photo opportunity for him, but I think he's working for the common good.

The photo was taken by Verónica Gabriela Cárdenas at a press conference held today. On the far left, you can see Gov. Greg Abbott and Sen. Ted Cruz. In front of them, some law enforcement officials are telling Beto, the man standing on the right, to leave. Beto ran against Cruz for U.S. Senate in 2018, but he lost. He's now running against Greg Abbott in the 2022 election for governor. He was being told to leave the press conference because he was causing a stir, telling Gov. Abbott that Texas gun laws were not strict enough.

Mental Meltdowns

Stephen Hebert — Sun, 22 May 2022 15:50:10 GMT

20 May 2022

Dear Gus,

This afternoon, we played golf for the first time in months. You’d been in full baseball mode, so you weren’t up for golf activity. However, as we transition out of your baseball season and into your golf season, you decided it was time to start up the ol’ golf machine again.

On our way to the course, I reminded you that you hadn’t touched a golf club in months. “Let’s set some expectations,” I said. We agreed that we were just out there to enjoy the day, to have some fun. You said you’d be “ecstatic” if you broke 90, especially since you planned to play from tees that were longer than your normal tees. “I want to hit more shots,” you said.

We each got a bucket of balls and went to the practice tee. I got there before you and started hitting some shots. You stretched and then started lining up some wedges. Wow! You looked pretty awful, all out of sorts. For a while, you struggled to even get the ball airborne. You asked me to look at your swing. I suggested that you were taking the club too far to the inside. You made some adjustments, and started hitting some good shots.

After warming up on the practice tee, we went over to the putting green. We putted around for about ten minutes and then went to the first tee. You played from the red tees, which are about 30% longer than the junior tees you’re used to. You hit your first tee shot in the right rough. Your approach went up near the green. You pitched up on and then two-putted for a bogey. You smiled and said, “Bogey’s not bad,” and we went to the second hole, a short par three. You pulled your pitching wedge from your bag and knocked the ball on the front of the green, but the pin was in the back. You three-putted for another bogey. “A little frustrating,” you said, “but bogey’s not bad.”

By the time we arrived at the third tee, we had laughed a bit and you were in great spirits. You pulled your driver and busted it right down the middle of the fairway, longer than I’ve ever seen you hit a tee shot: about 230 yards. You hit your approach to about 20 feet and then two-putted for par.

The fourth hole was the longest par five you’ve ever played, about 500 yards. Before hitting your tee shot, you said, “There’s no way I can get there in three.” I said, “Maybe not, we’ll see. Just take a good, smooth swing at this one and send it down the fairway.” You did just that: another 230-yard tee shot with a little bit of draw, splitting the middle of the fairway. You hit a good second shot and just had a little sand wedge to the green. You reached in three easily, two-putted for par, and moved on. Spirits were great!

You birdied the fifth and then parred the remaining holes on the front nine, including the longest par five on the course. Your tee shots were good. Your irons were crisp. Your short game was on. We stopped for some purple Gatorade before the tenth and you saw that you’d shot a 38 on the opening nine.

Photo by Robina Weermeijer / Unsplash

This is where things changed for you. You’d spent the front nine not worrying about your score. You were just hitting shots to hit shots, playing golf for the joy of playing golf. We were hot and sweaty on a sunny day in May in southeast Texas, but we were having fun. When you saw that 38 on the score card, however, your attitude changed. You started to think about scoring. You started to think about future shots and what you needed on future holes. What if I par this hole and then birdie that one? What if I hit a bad shot here? How will I recover?

In short: you got out of the present and started living in the future.

Even though you double-bogeyed the tenth, you remained in good spirits until you hit a bad tee shot on the eleventh. This shot put you in trouble, blocked out by houses and fencing, unable to see (or reach the green). Things went from bad to worse and you ended up in a green side bunker, trying to hit your fifth shot out of it on a difficult par four. You were really angry, but you managed to take some deep breaths and calm yourself down. You took a swing at your ball in the sand. It came out hot, but hit my ball (which I hadn’t had a chance to mark yet) and went in the hole. Just a routine bogey! Hahaha!

You laughed and celebrated and we moved on.

Things really unraveled from there, unfortunately. By the time we reached the seventeenth green, you were so frustrated with golf that you could barely bring yourself to tap in a par putt (because you’d narrowly missed an eagle and then missed a short putt for birdie). In fact, I had to encourage you to just hit the four-inch putt into the hole. You told me, “I can’t! I’m gonna miss it!”

It was the worst meltdown I’ve ever seen you have on a golf course. To be honest, I was shocked. How had we gone from so much fun on the first eleven or twelve holes to this?

We found ourselves in the car a half-hour later conducting a post-mortem on the round. As we talked, you managed to identify exactly what had happened. On the front nine, you weren’t thinking about scoring; you were just thinking about each shot, focusing on your routine and what you needed to do to hit the best, smartest shot you could. On the back nine, however, your mindset changed: “I just wanted to shoot another 38 so badly,” you said.

You were really down, but I said to you, “This is a really important day for you.” We went on to talk about how we learn from our mistakes. “Mistakes,” I said, “Only become failures when we don’t learn from them. What do you think you learned today?”

“I play better,” you said, “When I focus on each shot and don’t worry about my score.”

This is exactly true. I’ve seen it on the golf course and on the baseball field. When you start worrying about other things — score, statistics, winning, whatever — you tighten up and start to make mistakes. Your attitude changes; you tense up. When you just focus on the moment, however, you play free and easy, and you are such a good golfer.

You agreed and then said, “Dad, how can I stay in the moment?” I told you there are lots of techniques for that, but that, for me, certain types of meditation were helping me to learn how to do that.

You were quiet for a bit, sitting in the backseat, “Strawberry Fields Forever” playing faintly through the Honda’s speakers. I had turned back toward the front, looking at you in the rear view mirror. You were looking out the window, the bill of your cap pressed against the glass. You turned your head and looked at me and asked, “Do you think you can teach me to meditate?”

“Absolutely,” I said, “But you have to understand something about that. First, it’s not a quick fix. It takes time to learn to meditate. Second, you might get frustrated, but I will not let you give up. You’re gonna be like Luke on Dagobah with Yoda. At times, you won’t see the point, but you’ll have to trust me. It’s a journey.”

I would like to think I'm Yoda. I'm not. But...do or do not...there is no try.

You said, “Okay. Can we start tomorrow?”

Of course, we can!

So, I guess our journey into the mind is beginning, Gus. I know that meditation has taught me to be a better, calmer, more present Me over the past six or seven years. I hope it will do the same for you.

Love,

Dad.

0:00

This video from six-year-old Gus seemed appropriate.

Writing Posts in Things 3

Stephen Hebert — Sat, 21 May 2022 19:47:23 GMT

Like a lot of folks out there, I use Ghost for my blogs. Like a lot of folks out there, I also use Things 3 to manage my various tasks and projects.

I used to keep track of tasks in Things, but then use apps like Scrivener or Ulysses or Craft to draft my posts. However, most of what I need to do when drafting a post is simply write it. Most of the time, I prefer to use the features in Ghost’s editor to add other media to the post. Recently, I decided to skip the middle man and just write my posts in the notes in Things 3.

Check out this screenshot:

Here's a screenshot of me startin to write this post in Things 3 for iOS. Note that you can use Markdown — and I do love me some Markdown! — right there in the notes for a task. Why not just keep it all there for simple posts like this?

Why not just use Markdown right there in the Things notes for that particular to-do item? It’s quick. It’s easy. Most importantly, however, I don’t have to move back and forth between apps. I can keep my notes and thoughts for a post in Things, and then I can simply copy and paste it to Ghost and use Ghost’s (very useful) editor to fine-tune the post.

You might prefer to write in Ulysses and publish directly to Ghost. I get that. But this has been working for me lately.

Happy writing!

Looking Back: April 2022

Stephen Hebert — Sat, 30 Apr 2022 14:00:00 GMT

Well, we're closing out April with a bang over here at the Hebert house. Last month, I published my letter to Gus "On Moving." We now know, after a long wait, exactly where we'll be moving: Sunny Southern California!

California, to be certain, was definitely not our Plan A. We had thought we would end up heading back to New England. The whole family enjoys the changing seasons — especially autumn in New England! — but, alas, this was not in the cards.

In truth, California hits so many of the things we were hoping to find. Natalie and I exist on a very lower-middle-class budget: she is an actor and I'm a writer and teacher. We don't have a lot of extra cash. In recent years, we've constantly found ourselves scraping by due, in large part, to a combination of expensive healthcare and property taxes. Housing and healthcare are the two biggest pieces of our budgetary pie. My housing will be taken care of by my school: this is the only way we could afford to live in Southern California, I imagine. Moreover, the healthcare situation should be about $7,000 cheaper per year for us. Combine all of this with better teacher salaries in California, and we're coming out way ahead.

It will also be nice to be back in a blue state. I recognize that this is controversial for some, but, for me, it's important. As an academic, I'm troubled by the recent calls to ban books and stifle teaching on important topics like identity: race, gender, and sexual orientation, especially. We could argue about this endlessly, I understand. Not everyone reading this will agree with me. That's fine. Personally, I believe schools should be encouraging students to explore their identities. It's part of the DEIJB ("Diversity, Equity, Inclusion, and Belonging") work I do with schools and with the National Association of Independent Schools (NAIS) and the Student Diversity Leadership Conference (SDLC).

(I should note here that I'm thankful to be working in independent schools where we do not typically fall under the requirements of laws such as Florida House Bill 1557 [aka "Don't Say Gay"] or Texas House Bill 3979 which attempts to ban talk of critical race theory in public schools. For what it's worth, as a teacher who spends quite a bit of time talking about America's troubling record of racial injustice, I have never taught critical race theory. Talking about race and teaching about systemic racism and internalized oppression do not equal critical race theory. Again, we can debate this endlessly...)

As a result of this job search, unfortunately, my writing output took a hit in April...sorta. I wrote A LOT of cover letters for jobs in February, March, and April. In fact, over the course of this job search and interviewing season, I've produced an estimated 300 pages worth of documents: cover letters, CVs, plans for lessons and professional development, statements of educational philosophy, statements of leadership philosophy, statements about the importance of DEIJB work in independent schools. This does not include emails and other correspondence required to get these applications out.

In short: it was a lot and my writing output has not been great this month.

But that's okay...here's what I did put together!

it's not working yet

I'm still on hiatus from novel rewrite. But, I've got workables out there:

The data all point to one conclusion: you must write at the time that works for you.

Workable #20: Set a Pace That Works

You do not need to be on anyone else’s schedule. Work at your pace.

Workable #21: Write Anywhere with Anything

What tools do you really need to write? Notebook and pen? Laptop? Typewriter? Smart phone?

Workable #22: Do you trust your process?

Yeah. Me neither. How do you know it’s working?

ROOTED Newsletter: April 2022

rootedEDU

Campbell’s Law and assessment. Teacher shortages. The value of silence. A lot going on in this month’s ROOTED Newsletter.

I’ve often felt like expectations were everything. They tend to color the lenses through which we see all of our experiences.

NOTE: Jared has a GREAT series of posts he's working on. I hope we'll be able to start publishing them soon!

the unruly buddha

What do I expect?

A letter to Gus in which we talk about moving and even get into a little Buddhist philosophy

what's next?

That's it, for now! What's next? Well, we'll be looking to purge and pack and get moving. We'll see what the next chapter brings. Hopefully, I'll find some more time to write. :)

Photo by Nick Collins / Unsplash

Looking Back: March 2022

Stephen Hebert — Thu, 31 Mar 2022 14:00:00 GMT

March has been a turbulent season. The letter I wrote to Gus ("On Moving") illustrates this.

On Moving

Workable #14: What Counts as “Practice”?

All transitions bring with them some level of turbulence. While this transition out of my current job has led to all kinds of uncertainty (and anxiety!), I am in this place where I do believe it will work out for the best. Opportunities are on the horizon.

Aren't they? :)

it's not working yet

I took a break from (re:)write this month, but I hope to be back soon. In the meantime, I keep churning out workables. I do hope these are helpful!

You set aside the time each day. What does it look like to practice your art?

Workable #15: Committing to the Practice - Start Small

The greatest barrier to committing to your practice as an artist is trying to do too much too soon. Instead, start small.

Workable #16: Use process goals to keep you going.

When your practice is oriented around the process, then you’re controlling the controllable.

Workable #17: Measure What Matters

Every minute practicing your art is a minute you spent getting better.

ROOTED Newsletter: March 2022

rootedEDU

Thoughts on Critical Race Theory (CRT), responsibility & culpability, and a mess of links. The latest ROOTED newsletter is here.

Activities that are meaningful don’t keep us busy. They require time. Deep teaching asks us to value quality over quantity, to understand that less is more.

Avoid Busy-ness

Avoid Busy-ness To Do Meaningful Work | Stephen Hebert - Intrepid ED News

This post was also picked up by Intrepid Ed News:

Well, I kept us all busy. Keeping students busy means keeping me busy. Busy-ness feels like productivity, but it’s really not. Busy-ness fools me

Intrepid ED NewsIntrepid Contributor

the unruly buddha

Taking the One Seat

The universe never promised us control, but the one seat lets us take stock of what we have.

Counting Breaths to Calm the Mind and Train the Attention in Moments of Anxiousness

Counting my breaths grounds me and helps me get off the thought-train when I’m lying awake at night.

Workables #10: Creativity Can Be Painstaking, but It’s Also Life-giving

what's next?

I've found it difficult to really concentrate on my craft. This is always the case, I suppose, for someone who is looking for ways to make ends meet. Thus, I have not been able to produce anything for (re:)write over at inwy.

This too shall pass, I'm sure.

Photo by Maryna Yazbeck / Unsplash

On Moving

Stephen Hebert — Sat, 12 Mar 2022 14:00:00 GMT

26 February 2022

Dear Gus,

Yesterday, we dropped some big news on you: we are likely going to be moving in the coming months. As your mom and I geared up for this conversation, I couldn't help but think about the last time I told you we were moving.

On a Saturday morning in April 2019, you and I woke up early. Mom was still in bed, so I told you to grab a book and your drawing stuff; we were going to get donuts. I took you to a donut shop in Fort Worth, and we ordered some sugary things. You got orange juice. I got coffee. We settled in with our books and drawing stuff.

I don't know how I started the conversation or what I said to you, but when I told you that we would be leaving our house in Fort Worth and moving down to the Houston area, you got real quiet and still. You looked down at your clipboard and started drawing something. After ten or fifteen or maybe even twenty seconds, you turned your clipboard around to show me a gigantic frowny face that took up the entire page.

Photo by Joshua Hoehne / Unsplash

I wish I had kept that drawing. But I didn't. My heart sank. I thought you'd be excited to move to Houston, to be closer to family, to be closer to the Astros. But you had started to make a little life for yourself in Fort Worth and Arlington. You had friends. You had a soccer team and a baseball team. You had memories.

Now, here we are again. All the same things apply.

I wasn't at home when Mom told you the news, but I understand that it was quite the scene. You were upset. Rightfully so! You've got a lot going for you here: a good group of friends, a baseball team that you've been playing with for two years, and a golf coach who thinks the world of you.

By the time I came home, you'd slammed your bedroom door, emptied the shelves in your room, torn the sheets off your bed. Your face was puffy, your eyes red and swollen. When I walked into your room, you were in the corner and Mom was laying on your bed.

We talked. You let it all out. We snuggled a bunch and then you asked me if I was sad. I told you that I wasn't. I didn't know where we were going to end up, but I knew that we were on a great adventure and that the three of us — you, me, and Mom — we'd be together on that adventure. "We might think of this house as home," I said, "But your mom and I have always agreed: home is wherever the three of us are."

I believe that, too.

Everything around us, Gus, is changing. You know this well. Sometimes, when I'm trying to fix your hair or help you get your super-tight shoes on or off, I'll say, "Gus, be still!"

"I can't, Dad," you say, "Everything is moving. The earth is rotating on its axis and revolving around the sun. The solar system is revolving around the center of the Milky Way which is moving through an expanding universe."

You get your smart-ass tendencies from me, so I kinda respect that.

But it proves that you understand the general direction of things: everything passes and everything changes. The great sage Siddhartha Gautama, the guy that most people call "the Buddha," believed that change was the fundamental nature of all reality. Everything, the Buddha believed, is in the process of arising and passing away.

Therefore, when we find something that endures, we want desperately to hold on to it, to freeze it, to keep it just as it is.

While nothing lasts forever, there are certain things that endure. The bond that you and me and Mom have, that bond is one of those things that endures.

Our lives will change. We will move. We will change jobs and change houses. But the love I have for you will remain.

Someday, you'll move out, too. In just seven or eight years, you'll be heading out on your own to figure out what you're supposed to do with the 4,000 weeks you've got on this planet. But the love I have for you will remain.

We will age. One day, I'll be too old to throw a baseball with you. One day, you'll be too big for me to pick up and squeeze so tight. But the love I have for you will remain.

I love that you showed your emotion, that you let me and Mom teach you how to scream into your pillow, and that we laughed about the idea that maybe the pillow would scream back later on that night. I love that you feel things so deeply. I also love, perhaps most of all, that later that night, you gave me a hug and asked me again if I was sad. You told me it was okay for me to be sad. I smiled and hugged you.

I'm not sad, Gus. Because I've still got you and Mom, and that's enough.

With love and admiration,

Dad.

Looking Back: February 2022

Stephen Hebert — Mon, 28 Feb 2022 15:00:00 GMT

February came in like a lion, didn't it? It is not going out like a lamb; I can assure you of that. We've got some changes coming, some news on the horizon, but for now you'll have to content yourself with these links to the pieces I wrote this past month.

it's not working yet

workables

Find the hook that brings you back...

Workables #11: The Tyranny of Goals

For some, goals work. For others, however, goals become dark clouds.

Workable #12: Try Slow Reading

There’s a lot of books out there, but that doesn’t mean you have to rush through them.

Workable #13: Practice, Trust, Commitment, and Output

What is the relationship between practice, trust, commitment, and output?

(Re:)write #6: Getting It Wrong

(re:)write

In this edition, I get it wrong...in more ways than one. Blürg.

(Re:)write #7: When Things Fall Apart

We pause.

ROOTED Newsletter: February 2022

rootedEDU

The latest ROOTED Newsletter is here. Thoughts on Wordle, pedagogy, and the best of what’s around in education.

Grading for Learning in Rochester and Teaching without Homework

Schools in Rochester are grading for learning, and I’m teaching without homework. Read on!

Built for Generosity. Built for Happiness.

the unruly buddha

If money doesn’t buy happiness, why are we so focused on it? What’s with our chase for status? I’ve hit 40, y’all...what am I doing?!!?

The more we see [and know our failures], the more by grace we shall long to be filled full of endless joy, for we are created for that. — Julian of Norwich, Revelations of Divine Love, chapter 8When we look earnestly at our failures, we come to understand who we really

Knowing Your Failure

Workables #3: Art Comes from Abundance

what's next?

As I write this, Ukraine is in turmoil. "(Re:)write #7: When Things Fall Apart" addresses that. I've been following the news, hour-by-hour. I can't help but think that this is a turning point in history, one of those monumental moments we'll understand only in hindsight.

I ask that you join me in praying, meditating, holding a silent moment of respect, of metta (lovingkindness), for those most deeply impacted by the actions of Vladmir Putin and his enablers. My heart is with the Ukrainian people. I cannot imagine their suffering...

Photo by Jeremy Beck / Unsplash

Looking Back: January 2022

Stephen Hebert — Mon, 31 Jan 2022 15:00:00 GMT

Here we are, about 1/12 of the way through 2022. Damn. It feels quite a bit like 2021, doesn't it? Let's hope that trend abates, right?

January was a busy month. I returned to teaching, but I also spent A LOT of time writing. Here are the items you can check out (and I hope that you do!).

It's Not Working Yet

The efforts on inwy continued. I'm publishing at least one post per week. Workables are going strong and (Re:)write is as well. Read the items below and see if you'd like to subscribe.

Workables

The universe is full of infinitely good ideas and the best way to access them is to practice our craft.

Workables #4: Creation is Connection

As we make things, our brains make new connections.

Workables #5: You Need a Jar

Ideas are like fireflies. You need something to put them in...

Workables #6: When the Impending Doom is Palpable

The impending doom is palpable. What do you write?

Workables #7: Sparking Your Practice with To-do Stacks

How can a “to-do stack” keep your writing on track?

Workables #8: Sparking Your Practice with the Seinfeld Hack

Keep track of your streaks and provide your own positive reinforcement.

Workables #9: Follow Your Practice Wherever It Leads

Your practice is yours. Follow it!

(Re:)write #3: Matt Smith’s Chin, Accosting Ernest Shackleton, and Other Minutiae

(Re:)write

In which we look at similes, Scrivener, and structure...join in!

(Re:)write #4: Routine, Rumination, and Revision (also Taylor Lautner’s Abs)

What do you do when Taylor Swift and Taylor Lautner interrupt your plans?

(Re:)write #5: Turn Directly to It

When you hit a snag, lean right into it.

Ballooning Responsibilities & Identifying What Matters

rootedEDU

ROOTED continues to experience a little resurgence. Here is what I published over there:

To be a teacher in 2022 feels like a graceless situation…what to do about it?

ROOTED Newsletter: January 2022

The beginning of a new semester offers so many promises. But so many of us feel anxiety about returning to school...

In the beginning, sitting can be torture, but it gets better. Really. It does. Try this!

the unruly buddha

I spent some time getting out of my suburban rut...as always...

The Pleasure of Sitting

Making a Fresh Start with Daily Notes

Use this Monk Manual-inspired technique to kickstart your day with intention, gratitude, and hope.

People Aren’t Problems to Solve

Every afternoon, I pick my son up from school and drive him home. This usually happens at about 5pm. He likes to stay after school and play outside with his friends: basketball, soccer, whatever is competitive. On the way home, he’s often a little zonked from playing so hard.

Workables #1: The Power of Yet

What's Next?

I'm continuing to work on the rewrite of my novel. I'm teaching classes. Things are humming along. Stay tuned for more and thanks for subscribing!

Looking Back: December 2021

Stephen Hebert — Fri, 31 Dec 2021 19:00:00 GMT

Well...2021 is just about over. Holy smokes and thank God! Am I right? As I noted in a previous post, 2021 often felt like a creative funk. However, I've ended it on a bang. Here's a look at what I've published this month.

It's Not Working Yet

I started a new site called It's Not Working Yet. This site has two primary aspects (with room for growth):

Workables (2x/week). Short pieces intended to inspire you to be your creative best.
(Re:)write (1x/week). Long pieces documenting (in fairly painstaking fashion) the rewrite of my novel.

You can read more about each of those on the inwy newsletters page. Here's what I've published over there in December.

“Yet” is not “never.” We can keep writing, painting, sculpting, honing, working. We can build, we can grow, we can make, remake and remake again.

(Re:)write #1: Taking Stock

Zero score and four years ago, I finished a manuscript for a novel tentatively (and terribly) titled The Brief and Horrible Resurrection of Lorraine Barth. Now it’s time to rewrite it...

Workables #2: Practice Your Best Material

Sometimes, we mistakenly believe we aren’t good enough to work on our best ideas.

(Re:)write #2: Tools of the Trade + Character Names

Rewriting a novel is a big job. What tools should you use?

Don’t Like the Result? Do It Again.

rootedEDU

In December, I returned to ROOTED which had been quite dormant for a while.

I’ve tried just about every grading system under the sun: traditional systems, standards-based, no grades, etc. But starting with these three key principles, I really think I’m hitting my stride.

We live in a productivity culture where we measure our value based on how much we improve and how much we produce. How do we move beyond that?

the unruly buddha

the unruly buddha also received some new content in December.

Just This

The Cult of Productivity Encroaches on My Vacation

The productivity monster again comes after me, even though I’m on vacation. What to do?

Writing, like a long-term relationship, is a long game: it requires patience, it requires practice, it requires commitment.

sbhebert.com

Lastly, I published a couple of things right here on sbhebert.com.

Writing is a Commitment

One simple way to create some pressure: deadlines. Announcing a new website: it’s not working yet (inwy).

Doing a New Thing

it’s not working yet (inwy)

What's Next?

With the launch of It's Not Working Yet, I'll be putting most of my writing posts over there. This site will continue to aggregate some of that stuff (as this post is doing), and I will also continue to publish occasional letters to Gus.

I suppose we can consider sbhebert.com a repository for all of the stuff that I'm doing PLUS anything that falls outside the bounds of other projects. For example, I'm working on some new sites for new clients. I may post about those here, especially as I learn something about the technologies I'm using. We'll see.

Thanks for reading! Have a Happy New Year's Eve and a great start to 2022! (There's no way but up from here, right?)

Doing a New Thing

Stephen Hebert — Tue, 28 Dec 2021 16:24:13 GMT

Looking back at 2021, I feel like I did a lot of good work. Unfortunately, not much of that good work was on what I care about most: my writing! I wrote relatively few blog posts across my various blogs, and I wrote even less fiction.

Don't get me wrong; this wasn't lost time. I was able to spend more than 10,000 minutes in workouts, plus thousands more in meditation. I had a blast with Gus on the golf course. And I continued to live and laugh with my spouse, Natalie. I did a lot of work on the self, I guess, but not on my creative projects.

Sooooo...I've got creative work to do. One of the strategies that often helps to get me going is pressure. By putting a little pressure on myself, I often am able to jumpstart projects and make progress toward a goal. How do we create that pressure? Well, there's lots of options out there, but one simple way to create some pressure: deadlines. Creating deadlines can help us to feel responsible for the work; they help us move beyond the I-don't-feel-like-it's to the well-this-is-what-we-gotta-do's.

Therefore, I'm announcing the launch of a new website: it's not working yet (inwy).

for artists who are trying to make it work

it's not working yet (inwy)

Photo by Matt Artz on Unsplash

The big idea for the site is to think about the creative process. If we're going to practice any craft — writing, painting, sculpting, teaching, selling, rocket surgery — then we have to have some kind of method for doing that. Our practice often leads to failure, but, thanks to the power of "yet," we can understand the failure as part of the process. We look at the product and we might say, "It's not working yet," and then we get back to work.

Below, I'll put the first post (in its entirety) so that you can read it for yourself, but I also want to highlight the main project for this site: (Re:)write. (Re:)write is a regular newsletter devoted specifically to the work I'm doing to rewrite a novel that I drafted in 2017. Each post will contain a kind of journal of the process along with what I'm learning along the way. Here's the first issue:

(Re:)write #1: Taking Stock

Zero score and four years ago, I finished a manuscript for a novel tentatively (and terribly) titled The Brief and Horrible Resurrection of Lorraine Barth. Now it’s time to rewrite it...

“Yet” is not “never.” We can keep writing, painting, sculpting, honing, working. We can build, we can grow, we can make, remake and remake again.

If you'd like to experience (vicariously) the pain of rewriting what is probably a really terrible novel, then this project is for you! :)

Voila! Pressure created by deadlines for blog posts. With the launch of this project in a public way, I now feel some pressure to put the next issue out there. But, since this is a kind of hyper-vulnerable journal about my creative process as I do something I've put off for four effing years, I've got to do the revision in order to have something to write about in the newsletter.

Here's a taste of what is (very tentatively) to come in (Re:)Write:

(Re:)write #1: Taking Stock
In this issue, we just outline the project. Where did this come from? What are we doing? Why would anyone want to go back and look at something they wrote four years ago? I also take you through the opening paragraph of the novel and why it is the way it is. (NOTE: I'm 99% sure I'm about to change the opening...again...)
(Re:)write #2: Tools of the Trade
What tools am I gonna use to accomplish this? Microsoft Word? Hell no! This issue will talk about writing longhand, word processing in apps like Scrivener and Ulysses, etc. I'll also tease out some thoughts I have about naming characters and why some names in the novel are changing.
(Re:)write #3: The Setup & The Process
When you've got 300 pages of text that you need to revise, you've got to think about how best to set up that project. When you're like me, and you really don't want to lose anything, you've got to think about that too.
(Re:)write #4: Snapshots
Here we'll continue looking at the process by thinking about how and why we save text and track changes. I'm developing a method for this and I'll show you what I do (and evaluate how well it's working).
(Re:)write #5: Openings
The opening of a novel is super important. You've got to pack a lot into just a few pages: character, setting, plot, etc. Not only that, but you've got to start making a claim for your readers to spend the next umpteen hours of their lives in your novel. We're going to get brutal with the opening of my novel here. (Potential spoiler: I've already got several different versions of it. Argh!)
(Re:)write #6: Whither Paper
I took the time (and resources) to print out a copy of the manuscript. Am I using it? Nope! Why? Is it because I've got some wicked vendetta against trees? I don't think so...
(Re:)write #7: Doing Things
When you have a big project like this, how do you keep track of what you'd like to do? How do you decide what to work on next? How do you leverage all the little systems you've got in place to ensure that you're going to get up and do the work? How do you make it easy to continue your practice? Let's see what's working (and what isn't).
(Re:)write #8: Status Update (Chapter One)
At last, eight issues in, and we're finally ready to think about the rewrite of chapter one. Where did it start? Where did it go? How am I feeling about it?
(Re:)write #9: Blogging the Rewrite
Writing for a blog is very different from writing for a novel. In this edition, we'll explore what the differences are and what my method is for capturing notes for the blog and documenting the rewrite.
(Re:)write #10: Introducing a New Character
As it is right now, chapter two puts us in a new character's world. How do we make that transition from one character to another? How do we adjust the voice so that it fits with the novel but still feels like we're hopping into a different character's perspective?

Wow. That's a lot lined up, and it only gets me to the start of the second chapter. It's gonna be a journey, y'all. If you're interested in joining me, please go over to inwy and subscribe!

Now, as promised, here's that first post from inwy.

The Power of Yet