I guess this almost goes along with yesterday’s blog. Yesterday I procrastinated and wrote. Today, I am supposed to be at the studio taking care of the last tiny bits of finishing touches on my CD but that didn’t happen. Not procrastination, really, but definitely a delay in scheduled plans.
The owner of the studio, Mike, called to reschedule because his daughter’s dog was at the vets and he would be the one that would be called to pick the doggy up sometime today and so he has, understandably, cleared his calendar. Apparently Boris, a large older black dog with a young soul, threw up quite badly last week and then went into seizure. Poor pooch has finally been diagnosed with epilepsy after a long weekend of tests and more seizures. Mike said that Boris was very scared after the seizures and very visibly shaken. So, for anyone reading this, pause a moment and send healing, comforting thoughts to Boris so that he can rest, adjust, heal and feel safe at the same time.
Obviously, Boris’ illness is not the gift I am referring to here. This unexpected time on my hands led me to visit Alki Beach in West Seattle. It’s a special place to me and the moment I left the car and breathed in the air from the Sound, all tension dropped away.
I went for a walk, shifting sand and pebbles out of my sandals at each step. I placed my hand in the waves, as I always do, and offered thanks to the water for its beauty, for its kinship, for its life. An eagle flew by and the blessing of that moment was felt in my soul. Wishing stones abounded as did heart shaped stones and sea glass. And, at my feet, a starfish lay empty of life – its new home in the night sky.
Filled with these vignettes of life and death and wishes and hopes I wandered into Starbucks, ordered some Zen tea and sat at a table with a window looking out over the Sound and watched the world as I wrote and wrote and wrote.
This is the unexpected gift. I needed this morning, this day. I am so impatient to finish my CD but, this day was for me and I didn’t know it until Mike called and cancelled. My soul needed to speak today and it has been pouring out in writing much the same way as the water pours out onto the sand – wave after wave brimming with salt and brine and stone and…life.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Monday, March 29, 2010
The Simple, Needed Art of Procrastination
Today is a perfect writing day for me. I'm not sure why but I love rainy days for writing. I'm currently sitting on my bed looking out on a Monet world seen through windows drizzled in rain. I see trees just beginning to bud and leaf out, a grey sky and puddle people being formed in the gullies below. Puddle people? Oh, they're the bubbles running in gullies, streets and puddles created by hard, full rain. They look like umbrellas floating on the water keeping dry the little people underneath - perhaps a faerie or two.
What I am "supposed" to be doing is giving my dog a bath and then cleaning the bathroom. But, I'm really not that keen on it (who is?). So, I'm sitting, sipping coffee, listening to the shooshing traffic, the rain, the wind and a few seagulls calling and...I'm writing.
Sure, maybe procrastination isn't something you want to have as part of your life on a permanent daily basis, but every-once-in-awhile, it's a wonderful tool to pull out and use. It's like a magic wand waved over time that changes it into something you hadn't expected. It's a great tool for writers or musicians or any other creative type in any field. And, it works both ways.
Today, procrastination in doing housework and a lazy-ish rainy day is creating the perfect setting for writing - something I haven't done much of lately. On another day, it might be exactly the opposite. Writer's block may be broken through or fingers that won't find notes on the piano may be re-infused with melody after a good long scrub in the kitchen (or making cookies or bread) or going for a walk. I find that sometimes it's in the moments of procrastination that I hear that small voice finally solving the character or plot issue. On a walk I might notice how the wind is playing through the trees and I will catch that moment that gives the perfect hint of notes or atmospheric quality I've been looking for in a new piece of music.
And housework? Nothing is going to fall down if I don't clean the bathroom right now. Our daily responsibilities are not always as huge and as critical as we think (outside of the obvious - children, our beloveds, living expenses, etc) and time can be taken now and again. In fact, time should be taken on a regular basis for procrastinating on the things we "should" do and taking delight in the things that make us sing inside. The places we really belong are the places that really need tending.
So, my secret delight is in procrastinating on puppy and bathroom cleaning (I can assure you Tavish is not complaining about missing his bath.... :) ) and basking in a perfect rainy day for writing.
What I am "supposed" to be doing is giving my dog a bath and then cleaning the bathroom. But, I'm really not that keen on it (who is?). So, I'm sitting, sipping coffee, listening to the shooshing traffic, the rain, the wind and a few seagulls calling and...I'm writing.
Sure, maybe procrastination isn't something you want to have as part of your life on a permanent daily basis, but every-once-in-awhile, it's a wonderful tool to pull out and use. It's like a magic wand waved over time that changes it into something you hadn't expected. It's a great tool for writers or musicians or any other creative type in any field. And, it works both ways.
Today, procrastination in doing housework and a lazy-ish rainy day is creating the perfect setting for writing - something I haven't done much of lately. On another day, it might be exactly the opposite. Writer's block may be broken through or fingers that won't find notes on the piano may be re-infused with melody after a good long scrub in the kitchen (or making cookies or bread) or going for a walk. I find that sometimes it's in the moments of procrastination that I hear that small voice finally solving the character or plot issue. On a walk I might notice how the wind is playing through the trees and I will catch that moment that gives the perfect hint of notes or atmospheric quality I've been looking for in a new piece of music.
And housework? Nothing is going to fall down if I don't clean the bathroom right now. Our daily responsibilities are not always as huge and as critical as we think (outside of the obvious - children, our beloveds, living expenses, etc) and time can be taken now and again. In fact, time should be taken on a regular basis for procrastinating on the things we "should" do and taking delight in the things that make us sing inside. The places we really belong are the places that really need tending.
So, my secret delight is in procrastinating on puppy and bathroom cleaning (I can assure you Tavish is not complaining about missing his bath.... :) ) and basking in a perfect rainy day for writing.
Rain Song
Mists curl around air
Walking in the trees I dream
The song of the rain
Tavish, however, is not so sure about the rain.... :)
Friday, March 19, 2010
Believe
I was reading a blog of one of my friends and found that somehow inside I had become a bit wistful. At first I couldn't figure out why but then as I put away my laptop to get some breakfast I heard a thought in my head: He writes the way I used to write.
That prompted a conversation between myself and, well, myself.
"What does that mean? He's no less a writer than you."
"I wouldn't be wistful if I thought I were a better writer than him. So that's not what is underneath."
"Well, what is it then?"
Images of essays written over the years, a few written during some of the most difficult times in my life, drifted into my memory like paper floating on a breeze showing bits of writing here and there and drifting away again.
"I used to write with ease. I used to write with observation and a sense of magic. I found the mystery and the whimsy and the satisfaction. Now, I seem to have to have a point to write. There must be some purpose, some conclusion, some, well, almost lesson in what I have to say. When did that happen?"
"I suppose it doesn't really matter when but what now? I still wish to write with a sense of purpose but I don't think I really want to have to have a point every time. Sometimes I wanna write with a sense of magic and mystery and wonder - just because."
Tummy growling I went downstairs and settled in with a bowl of hot buckwheat cereal and sat with my thoughts which were no longer answering back and forth but simply being.
I've no real conclusion here [yay!!! :o) ] but I think I'll start sharing some of the essays from before here and there and give myself permission to write like that again. :)
Magic, mystery, wonder, fun, whimsy....
One of my bears: Sorbet
That prompted a conversation between myself and, well, myself.
"What does that mean? He's no less a writer than you."
"I wouldn't be wistful if I thought I were a better writer than him. So that's not what is underneath."
"Well, what is it then?"
Images of essays written over the years, a few written during some of the most difficult times in my life, drifted into my memory like paper floating on a breeze showing bits of writing here and there and drifting away again.
"I used to write with ease. I used to write with observation and a sense of magic. I found the mystery and the whimsy and the satisfaction. Now, I seem to have to have a point to write. There must be some purpose, some conclusion, some, well, almost lesson in what I have to say. When did that happen?"
"I suppose it doesn't really matter when but what now? I still wish to write with a sense of purpose but I don't think I really want to have to have a point every time. Sometimes I wanna write with a sense of magic and mystery and wonder - just because."
Tummy growling I went downstairs and settled in with a bowl of hot buckwheat cereal and sat with my thoughts which were no longer answering back and forth but simply being.
I've no real conclusion here [yay!!! :o) ] but I think I'll start sharing some of the essays from before here and there and give myself permission to write like that again. :)
Magic, mystery, wonder, fun, whimsy....
Monday, March 1, 2010
Awakening Creativity - Part Two
Welcome to part two of a 10 part series exploring the ways in which we can awaken our inherent creativity and free those stuck places that block our efforts.
The Quiet Place – Welcoming the Still, Small Voice
One of the reasons I’ve had difficulty in focusing and working on my books or creating music recently is the addition of a huge plasma TV into my home. What a nice little distraction it’s become. I’ve never been much for TV but, let me tell you, when I’m stuck in the world of writer’s block or there are simply difficult areas to deal with that I’d rather not deal with, it’s magnificent (such lovely shows and, really, I only watch the shows I can learn from…). It’s also deadly to the creative person.
Well, TV, itself, isn’t deadly - it’s the inner choice to allow things to distract you from the difficult places that is deadly. These distractions can hide inside many different things: our jobs, family, friends, finances, classes, spiritual journeys/quests, good deeds (these last two are often the most insidious because they’re sneaky – it’s wonderful to seek out a deeper spiritual life and do kind things for others or the environment, but when these become your hiding place, they have the effect of stunting the gifts given to you to use). Whatever we use to hide from ourselves and our light is a distraction.
Stillness - a most difficult thing to reach for. It is much, much easier to fill our time with noise and activity. Stillness takes courage and discipline. But, with it comes so many gifts. The first of which is silence. Our world is so noisy and most of the noise comes from within ourselves. When we are quiet inside it is amazing how quiet the world seems. Cultivating stillness gives us a break from the noise of machines, traffic, offices, technology and most importantly, our own thoughts. Oh! It feels so good when your mind is still and your body is quiet. There is a deep letting go that could be a bit unnerving at first but then it just feels so very right.
Out of that stillness comes the second gift. We get the opportunity to observe ourselves and in the process we learn about who we are at a core level. Again, this can be a little scary but worth it. When we are still and quiet there is nobody there but us. We listen until our thoughts run out and then there is just us. And, slowly, as we face ourselves we experience a third gift – hearing that still, small voice.
It has been called the voice of God, inspiration, our muse, our intuition, That Which Is, our Higher Selves, our guides, our angels and so on. Whatever name is used, it comes from the deepest places of ourselves and cannot be heard unless we are quiet and still. It is this voice that speaks to us of our light, our power, our love, our creativity – our way in this world and how to make it so. It reminds us of what we feel we were born to do and promises support and answers along the way. As we learn to listen, that gentle voice will become stronger and much easier to hear throughout even the noisiest and busiest of days. And as we hear it, trust it and act with it, our paths will be made clear and our creativity stronger.
How do we become still in a world that asks for everything to be completed long before we’ve even had a chance to begin it? We create that stillness and discipline ourselves to sit through the uncomfortable moments, the outside comments, the whines of our egos that are afraid to let go like an overly tired child insisting on staying up way beyond her bedtime.
Set aside time each day for quiet stillness and contemplative listening. If you have never done this before, begin with 5 minutes a day, then move to 10 and then to 15 and on up to 30. If you can allow longer periods then, by all means, do so. If you don’t have time even for 30 minutes, aim for at least 15-20 minutes.
Find a quiet place. If you have a family, this might be difficult. Have your partner ease this by taking care of the kids for a short time (or choose a time when they are in bed or out). If you can, turn off all phones, TVs, radios, etc.
Make yourself comfortable. Sit cross-legged or lay on your back on the floor or sit in a straight backed chair (to help promote proper breathing posture), feet flat on the ground, arms uncrossed.
The easiest way is to simply breathe deeply from your relaxed belly – breathing from your nose if possible. Release your thoughts. If you have thoughts, know them to be natural and release them again. Don’t worry about those thoughts – worrying will create more thoughts. Just let them go. If you find this difficult, focus wholly on your breathing and use an easy mantra (repeated statement) such as: I breathe in peace (love, creativity, light, etc), I breathe out stress (excuses, thoughts, anger, etc) or simply count your breathing with a 1 for an inhale and 2 for an exhale (1, 2, 1, 2…). Repetition of simple phrases or counting will slow your thoughts down until all you hear is the phrase or numbers (you may also find that repeated phrasing can help focus the mind on a desired outcome). Eventually you can drop the words to find absolute silence.
At the beginning the voice can seem like the faintest of stars seen only from the corner of your eyes disappearing when you look directly at it or seek to find it. The still, small voice can be heard only if you simply and easily listen rather than strain to hear (straining causes more thoughts and frustration and will block the hearing). If you don’t hear anything for awhile, don’t worry about it, it may take time. In the meantime you are gaining those other gifts from silence.
As you lean to be still, face yourself and listen, your creativity will shine brighter and brighter until it will simply pour out naturally in everything you do. You will be calmer, stronger, healthier (oh, yes, meditation slows the resting heart rate, lowers the blood pressure, eases insomnia, lowers stress and stress hormones, etc), more focused, happier, and most definitely more creative.
The Quiet Place – Welcoming the Still, Small Voice
One of the reasons I’ve had difficulty in focusing and working on my books or creating music recently is the addition of a huge plasma TV into my home. What a nice little distraction it’s become. I’ve never been much for TV but, let me tell you, when I’m stuck in the world of writer’s block or there are simply difficult areas to deal with that I’d rather not deal with, it’s magnificent (such lovely shows and, really, I only watch the shows I can learn from…). It’s also deadly to the creative person.
Well, TV, itself, isn’t deadly - it’s the inner choice to allow things to distract you from the difficult places that is deadly. These distractions can hide inside many different things: our jobs, family, friends, finances, classes, spiritual journeys/quests, good deeds (these last two are often the most insidious because they’re sneaky – it’s wonderful to seek out a deeper spiritual life and do kind things for others or the environment, but when these become your hiding place, they have the effect of stunting the gifts given to you to use). Whatever we use to hide from ourselves and our light is a distraction.
Stillness - a most difficult thing to reach for. It is much, much easier to fill our time with noise and activity. Stillness takes courage and discipline. But, with it comes so many gifts. The first of which is silence. Our world is so noisy and most of the noise comes from within ourselves. When we are quiet inside it is amazing how quiet the world seems. Cultivating stillness gives us a break from the noise of machines, traffic, offices, technology and most importantly, our own thoughts. Oh! It feels so good when your mind is still and your body is quiet. There is a deep letting go that could be a bit unnerving at first but then it just feels so very right.
Out of that stillness comes the second gift. We get the opportunity to observe ourselves and in the process we learn about who we are at a core level. Again, this can be a little scary but worth it. When we are still and quiet there is nobody there but us. We listen until our thoughts run out and then there is just us. And, slowly, as we face ourselves we experience a third gift – hearing that still, small voice.
It has been called the voice of God, inspiration, our muse, our intuition, That Which Is, our Higher Selves, our guides, our angels and so on. Whatever name is used, it comes from the deepest places of ourselves and cannot be heard unless we are quiet and still. It is this voice that speaks to us of our light, our power, our love, our creativity – our way in this world and how to make it so. It reminds us of what we feel we were born to do and promises support and answers along the way. As we learn to listen, that gentle voice will become stronger and much easier to hear throughout even the noisiest and busiest of days. And as we hear it, trust it and act with it, our paths will be made clear and our creativity stronger.
How do we become still in a world that asks for everything to be completed long before we’ve even had a chance to begin it? We create that stillness and discipline ourselves to sit through the uncomfortable moments, the outside comments, the whines of our egos that are afraid to let go like an overly tired child insisting on staying up way beyond her bedtime.
Set aside time each day for quiet stillness and contemplative listening. If you have never done this before, begin with 5 minutes a day, then move to 10 and then to 15 and on up to 30. If you can allow longer periods then, by all means, do so. If you don’t have time even for 30 minutes, aim for at least 15-20 minutes.
Find a quiet place. If you have a family, this might be difficult. Have your partner ease this by taking care of the kids for a short time (or choose a time when they are in bed or out). If you can, turn off all phones, TVs, radios, etc.
Make yourself comfortable. Sit cross-legged or lay on your back on the floor or sit in a straight backed chair (to help promote proper breathing posture), feet flat on the ground, arms uncrossed.
The easiest way is to simply breathe deeply from your relaxed belly – breathing from your nose if possible. Release your thoughts. If you have thoughts, know them to be natural and release them again. Don’t worry about those thoughts – worrying will create more thoughts. Just let them go. If you find this difficult, focus wholly on your breathing and use an easy mantra (repeated statement) such as: I breathe in peace (love, creativity, light, etc), I breathe out stress (excuses, thoughts, anger, etc) or simply count your breathing with a 1 for an inhale and 2 for an exhale (1, 2, 1, 2…). Repetition of simple phrases or counting will slow your thoughts down until all you hear is the phrase or numbers (you may also find that repeated phrasing can help focus the mind on a desired outcome). Eventually you can drop the words to find absolute silence.
At the beginning the voice can seem like the faintest of stars seen only from the corner of your eyes disappearing when you look directly at it or seek to find it. The still, small voice can be heard only if you simply and easily listen rather than strain to hear (straining causes more thoughts and frustration and will block the hearing). If you don’t hear anything for awhile, don’t worry about it, it may take time. In the meantime you are gaining those other gifts from silence.
As you lean to be still, face yourself and listen, your creativity will shine brighter and brighter until it will simply pour out naturally in everything you do. You will be calmer, stronger, healthier (oh, yes, meditation slows the resting heart rate, lowers the blood pressure, eases insomnia, lowers stress and stress hormones, etc), more focused, happier, and most definitely more creative.
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