Gratitude

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CAM00284Remember my post a couple of weeks ago, quoting Maya Angelou, how she, when she couldn’t write, would laboriously write “The cat sat…” and so forth?

Sometimes when I’m not feeling it, when I feel I don’t have what I need to keep plugging along, I write down what I do have.

I’m grateful for 6 hours of sleep last night in my own bed. I’m grateful to have such a good family, my mom and sisters, my brother, my family here at home, too (husband, daughters). I’m grateful for the walk Pearly and I took the dog on yesterday, and the blackberry brambles that are blooming. I’m grateful for wild huckleberries.

I’m grateful for good friends who check up on me when I’m stressed. I’m grateful for good headache meds. I’m grateful for the 22 minutes this morning writing, reflectively, in  my journal. I’m grateful for the great candle, and for the Bach Guitar Suites CD.

And now I’m thinking that I could open my manuscript notebook and maybe do a little rereading. Maybe I could even write a few lines.

I wonder what my main character is grateful for? I wonder what the other characters might be grateful for?

Good Habits

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CAM00232“First forget inspiration. Habit is more dependable. Habit will sustain you whether you’re inspired or not. Habit will help you finish and polish your stories. Inspiration won’t. Habit is persistence in practice.” Octavia E. Butler

Why Pushing Ourselves Makes Us Less Productive

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CAM00264Why Pushing Ourselves Makes Us Less Productive. I really love this post from  Lauren Sapala’s blog and wanted to share it with you. Timely for me.

“We can imagine the present moment as a seed, or the bud of a flower. Our creative force is contained in that seed and we are also present with it. As it unfolds into bright colors, strong roots, and fascinating twisty branches, we can stand calmly with it and observe. We can savor the unfolding…”

I took this picture for a post I imagined titling “Put Your Heart into It” — still makes sense.

Why I Write

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Our Pabu, who does not bite.

I often get my ideas for blog posts from conversations with friends. Last night my daughter Annie and I visited my good friend who is going to California next week and needs a dog sitter. As things turned out, the adorable mutt bit the heck out of my hand (I tried to be a good farm-girl and act like it was nothing), with the result that he is going to a kennel for the week.

What does this have to do with writing?

I’ve known this young man (the dog, I mean) for four years, since he was an even more adorable puppy. His owners dote on him, but they work and he is at home alone for long hours. He has never had any training. He bites. He acts like he’s warmed up to you and then he grabs your hand and sinks his teeth in and won’t let go!

And what does this have to do with writing?

My friend happens to be the woman to whom I passed along my copy of Writing Down Your Soul by Janet Conner. Here’s a list of questions that Conner suggests exploring (page 148):

  • I think there’s a pattern in my life, and I don’t want to perpetuate it. What is the pattern? Why does it keep appearing?
  • When did it start? How has it evolved?
  • In what ways am I passing it on to the people around me?
  • Why do I want to break it–or why not? What price am I willing to pay?
  • What needs to happen for me to end this pattern?

After I cleaned up my hand and found the anti-biotic ointment, the three of us (the dog was in his crate) reflected on what has to happen next. Well, a professional kennel where the dog can stay next week, safely. My friend speculated on what she will do after that. Annie cried. I hope training will be explored, but if you know your dog bites, can you just keep doing what you’re doing? Our lovely dog has introduced us to a trainer who has rescued at least two impossible dogs and turned them into model citizens. So maybe training can help. Maybe dog training is a reflective activity akin to journal writing. All I know is that it’s easy to go on–for years–perpetuating a pattern and feeling stuck and helpless. Helpless and hopeless. But writing in my journal, and rereading and taking my reflections deeper, is a way of recognizing those patterns and…one hopes…beginning to change them.

It occurs to me that when I’m stuck it’s often because I’m blaming another person or circumstances. It can’t be helped! It’s his fault! There’s nothing I can do!

But there is always something we can do. Finding out what that is, waking up to the possibility of it, becoming willing to see it differently, that’s what reflective journal writing does for me.

What price am I willing to pay to change? Will it be a lesser or greater price than what staying the same will exact?