Silence and Connection

Taking Flight                                                                                                                             Catherine Al-Meten Meyers

This morning I was reading The Paris Review, when I came across a piece written by one of author, Marcel Proust's friends. The article was entitled something along the lines of the strange habits of my friend Marcel Proust. Reading it I discovered what an affinity I had for Proust, his need for silence and his long hours spent in solitude, wrestling with his writing and his own questions and imagination. His friends noted that he had rented 5 rooms, one to live in and four others to contain the silence. I laughed as I thought about how I contain myself in small pockets of my own apartment when I'm writing. Of course all artists and writers need to be alone sometimes otherwise they wouldn't get anything done. However, how each of us deals with the need or fear of silence is different, I believe.

One of the most important features of my home is the quiet.  When I first moved here, I had just left San Francisco. In our home in San Francisco noise was part and parcel of every day and night. The constant drone of traffic, sirens, construction work noise, people on the streets day and night, trash trucks and delivery vans noisily going up the small alley way where we lived. Drunks and homeless folk lost in their own nightmares, screaming, yelling, fighting beneath the bedroom windows. The cacophony and endless level of noise produced a constant state of stress. The first night I spent in my new home in Oregon, I relished the sounds of silence. One night while working at my desk, I was disturbed by a loud racket outside. I rushed to the window to see what was making so much noise only to discover a duck quaking. A duck. One, lone little duck quacking on the river below. I had to laugh, but realized then that my adjustment to the noise level had shifted significantly.

In my home I have a heater that when it is turned on, sounds like a jet engine to me. I would rather wear 10 layers of clothing than turn the damn thing on. Over time, it and I have built a good relationship. When I leave the house for a while, I turn it on so it can do its job.When I return, I turn it off. My body too has acclimated, and I don't seem to get as cold as I did when I first moved back home.  Yes, noise can be a problem because I guess I'm so attuned to it that at times it's hard to ignore. Just now, for instance, a dog outside was barking at a runner passing by. My whole system went into crisis mode, I jumped up to check to see what the danger was and realized my level of sensitivity can be quite a distraction.

The physical noises are just part of the noise that disturbs and requires adjusting to. My need for quiet and stillness is great, but my need for an emotional, mental, and spiritual stillness is perhaps more vital.  Spending and enjoying long periods of time in solitude, I know enough to get out to socialize with others on some kind of regular basis. If I don't...well does agoraphobia ring any bells? To head off that all too familiar comfort with maintaining close quarters, I go out to exercise, to walk, to sit in coffee shops, to meet friends, and to simply just wander with everyone else.  It's not something I do willingly some days because frankly, I'd usually rather not go out. There's a cute Sesame Street song about innie and outie kinds of people.  I am definitely an innie.

Yesterday was one of my outside days.  At this point in time, I'm working on finishing up a book. This for me, is the hardest point. The point at which it feels like I'm running around and around in circles over  the same questions about commas, characters, and timelines that I've had for ages. It's grueling work editing your own work, so that's why we writers get help. Even then though, if you're a control freak like I am, having help simply means you've pulled someone else in on your madness. Now of course this wasn't what I was thinking when I went out. In the morning I had an appointment for a massage, something I'm fortunate enough to get to do ever so often. My muscles and tendons hide their pain from me, and only when I'm rolled out on a warm massage table with the masseuse rolling fingers over and into the deep tissue does the pain scream out. Hidden tension and stress, that needs to be released. A writer needs to focus on self care. When I realize that even with all I do to keep myself fit, I'm still working my body hard and I need to take good care of it.

And of course our bodies hold lots besides pain or stress. We are always in the process of learning and growing and responding to the processes we are living through.  After my massage, I drove to my friend's house. We had planned to do a couple of hours worth of work on the manuscript. What we did instead was much more beneficial I'm realizing. We sat at the kitchen table, had a cup of tea, and chatted. Neither one of us was feeling exactly sharp and raring to go. She might have been more than I, but instead we simply followed our train of thoughts, and talked about how we really felt about life, things in general, and some things very specific about what was growing on in our own lives. It was a good couple of hours, and at the time, I didn't think much about why it was going to prove to be so important.

This particular friend  is one of those friends who, as Julia Cameron likes to say, is a mirror friend. We both seem to be able to reflect back to one another, something that helps each of us see ourselves.  After our enjoyable afternoon, I felt the weather start to change, and wanting to get home before it began pouring, I left. Stopped at the market, and serendipitously ran into two friends we had just been talking about. When I got home, I felt refreshed and relaxed.  And surprisingly, I felt energized and ready to go on my work.  What had changed? What had happened? In the time I took away from the silence and solitude, I found space to quiet my own mind and emotions and to simply be present with two other people--people I like and trust.  In that quiet with others, I heard something of the essence of what was needed to quiet my own mind and to still my own body. To assure myself that what I'm feeling is normal. I recognize that  chaining myself to my desk or computer would not help me reach a conclusion to anything.

Slowly, calmly, and imprecisely, I mulled over the gifts that come from interacting with others. The connections we make with others who struggle with some of the same things we do. "Will this ever be done?"  "Can I even read what's in front of me anymore?" "How am I going to get the energy to do what needs to be done?"  " What about everything else I'm supposed to be doing?" Slowly and in a rather dreamlike way, the heaviness of the work, lifted a bit.  Taking time away to refresh, renew, regenerate, and reflect was exactly what was needed. And we learn, again and again, to move in the rhythm of our own being. We have partners along the way, who help us or who remind us or who believe in us.  And that's all good. But we also have within us that still, quiet space where we live with who we are, and learn to adjust to that inner being's changing needs  and moods while maintaining contact with that inner essence that brings us back to the table, the pen, the word, the work over and over. And in this position, prostrate before the altar of our Divine purpose, I come in gratitude. Letting it flow from a place where the mental stream blocks off chatter and opens to imagination, inspiration, and something better than all, that next perfect flow of words that come forth from the natural source.

Finding time, making quiet places within and around us, and flowing in and out of the streams that we travel from day to day...all great gifts of a writer's life. As I look at this essay, I see my little duck moment once again.  We sometimes believe that turning points and grand finales arrive with a flash of lightening or a major change we choose or that is thrust upon us. For me the turning point times are marked by the most simple moments of awareness. What has spoken to you?

What to do on a rainy day?

A Casual Conversation                                   Catherine Al-Meten Meyers

If rain were a condition to stop a person from taking care of business or getting out to enjoy an activity in my region, no one would go out for much of the year. Many of us who live in rainy climes do so because we like the weather. Pluviofiles, those who love the rain, is what we are called. Or what we call ourselves. Yet there are some rainy days that  are fiercer than others. This past week, the meteorologists and emergency services folk have been preparing us in a series of warnings of the possibility of a deluge.  Most people, including me, got themselves prepared and hunkered down. For the most part, the anticipated emergency was not what it had been predicted to be. Nevertheless, we waited...waited for the storm that never seemed to show up. Oh it rained, and there was lightening and thunder, and some places inland or up and down the coast got hit harder than we did. But our little community was not inundated with too much.

So after the let down that comes when our expectations don't manifest, we all probably slept well last night. I know I did. This morning I woke refreshed and ready to meet a new day in earnest. I'm at the rewrite and prepublication preparation stage of a book I'm working on, and so today I spent some time picking fonts and making changes to the manuscript.  All the while, the sky gets a kind of pale gray and the rains began falling. Steady, constant, sometimes heavy rain is soaking the land. The tide is high as the Moon has reached her fullness, and life has a kind of blanket on it, keeping everything in a kind of slow and peaceful mode.  Non-action. Receptive and open to the fullness of now, and the time we now have when nothing much is calling us away from where we are right this moment. It's Sunday, Sabbath for many, a day of rest. We have permission. Indeed we have a mandate to rest, to enjoy the now of our lives.

After a day of following the news cycle, prepping for a storm that never made it to town, and the anticipation of what might be just about ready to happen, I am back into a mode of wanting to actually do something of substance. I've waited for 3 days to do the laundry because I wasn't quite sure the power would stay on.  Now is the time though. Time to get to it. Also longing to head out to the pier and enjoy the rainy weather and the wonderful sea sounds and river noises and the aroma of the briny and fishy sea air.  No ships or boats have been in view for a couple of days now, so unusual for the river life. Longing to connect to what is happening beyond my little nest.

Feeling a connection and an exhaustion as a result of all the political upheaval connected to the campaign election. Wishing to avoid dropping down into fear or anger or some other dark hole, I've been looking for bright signs of Life.  The beautiful plants on my fridge that seem to stretch their branches out to touch around for a drop of sunlight. The fading glory of the purple Dahlia in a glass of water. A gift from a good friend. A reminder of the cycle of life. Quiet and calm, where even an unusual sound made by my hand as I reach for something, startles my cat because it's so out of the ordinary. Enough to break the peaceful stillness, but not enough to harm even a fly or that ladybug who came in on my sweater sleeve. We all live in peaceful coexistence in this home. The spiders hidden away in their dark nests, the cats and ladybugs amusing one another.

And as I wander through my mind in thoughts of those I love, I think of how words and communication affect us.  What words have influenced me the most? What kind of communication has really made a difference, for the better? What kind of energy has affected me and others the most? And what words are there to help us heal? As a writer, the power and energy of words is paramount in our ability to communicate anything. So what words light my way? The thought of the words on the Sunday School wall when I was a child, God is Love.  That and "Love is Reflected in Love". So simple. Such a basic truth that grounds and guides me. For if God is anything, Love is what it is. The Source of all that gives life. The balm for hurt and misunderstandings and injuries, intentional or unconscious. And so for today, what there is to do, is to remember that Love that dwells within and lights up and transforms even the darkest night, calms even the fiercest of storms, and quiets even the most agitated heart. May peace and love reign in you as you read this, and may it quell the storms in your life.

A Burr Under My Saddle: Dealing With the Hard Stuff

Summer Reflections                                                                                                              Catherine Al-Meten Meyers

Some of us learn quickly, others learn more slowly. Many of us learn by doing, some by example, and still others by following the instructions to a "t". I use all three methods. Some things are easier for me to do than others. I learned to read, and have been eternally grateful for that gift. I can write, and I can even learn some other languages. I'm better at reading and writing them, than I am at speaking. Why? Because when I speak, I want to sound just right. That's a bad quality for a language learner. It keeps us from practicing and getting better through experience. One of the drawbacks of learning to do some things really well, is we then have the expectation that everything should be as easy for us.

Of course we know this is not true. There is within me though, this expectation that I should be able to figure everything out for myself. In fact you might say I am driven to dig and dig and dig until I find that bone, or gold, or land on the other side of the planet. This proves not to be such a great quality if taken to the extreme. The extreme is not a good place to go if you want to perfect your craft as a writer. Writing may require reworking, editing, revising, and practice....lots of practice. However to make one's living as a writer, the time comes when it is necessary to ask for and get help.  Regardless of our job, role, or ambition, none of us were meant to do everything by and for ourselves.

The writer's life is often a solitary one. Being alone and having time to write are necessary for a writer. When we're raising our families, we writers have to work around the needs, schedules, and lives of other people. We have to carve out time and space to do what we do.  It can be done. It is an intentional step that once taken, opens the writer to seeing that wanting to write is not the same as writing. Setting aside time each day and finding a place where you can write are both necessary and basic to any writer.  In Beverly Cleary's autobiography, My Own Two Feet, Cleary describes being a young wife and mother sitting at the kitchen table in a rental apartment in the hills of Berkeley. With two small children to care for, and a husband who in those days, required a lot of tending to, Cleary determined early on that she had to set time and place aside and just write. At the age of 100 with many years and many books behind her, that formula seems to have worked well for her.

At different stages of life, our needs as writers and creative people differ. During childrearing, family-focused years, our priorities differ from when we shift our interests, attention, and needs. We are living in a time when there are so many possibilities for writers, and much more of an acceptance for creating a different kind of lifestyle. There is less of a stigma against those of us who live alone.  I haven't always lived alone, but I certainly enjoy most of the solitary life. In particular, living alone allows me to organize my life, home, and time to support myself as a writer.  The drawbacks include doing most everything by myself. I have good friends, but for some strange reason, none want to come over and take out my recycling and trash or do the laundry.  Just kidding, kind of.

No, living alone takes a lot of work. Wouldn't change it albeit for something unusual coming into my life to change it. For me the matter is not about how to get someone to do the mundane things, but to find someone who can help me with the tasks and challenges that seem to eat up so much of my time. Technical things for example.  Since the mid-80s, I have been shaping my writing and my work around computers and access to all the tools that go with them. As we know, the tools are anything but uncomplicated. The time we spend sorting through technical gaffs, or trying to eliminate bugs or viruses or slow loading times.  It's enough to make a women want to cry or take a very long walk or pour herself a stiff drink.  Instead of any of the previous options, you see what I have chose to do with my angst. Those of us who work with and on computers know the value of a good techie.

Getting over whatever it is inside me that makes me feel compelled to figure things out, seems at times essential for letting go of what I no longer need to do or fret over. I've met this Trickster on the road before. It's the illusion that I have faced in the past. Its message goes something like this, "If I just work on this a little longer, I'll get it. If I just wait a while longer and try another 100 times the same thing I've already done 50, it will all work out. The litany of 'if onlys' goes on. The problem with that is I have to answer a question for myself. "Do I really want to spend 2 days and countless hours and attempts to do something that should only take about a minute?" The answer is "No, thank you very much."

Years ago a CPA in Carmel took all the file folders of my  tax records from my hands, sat me down and gave me a cup of tea, and told me the following, " Your job is to write. My job is to do your taxes. We both don't need to be working on this. I know what I'm doing with tax records, you don't. I have no idea how to write a book or article or poem; you do. Let me take this off your plate."
My accountant at that time, Nancy Callahan, did taxes for all kinds of artists and artsy people. She knew what a struggle it is for many who are used to doing it all themselves. I love people like Nancy Callahan who can help put things in perspective for me.

Whenever I am stewing over something that is overwhelming my time, baffling my mind, and draining my time to write and be creative, I make an effort to rein myself in from overdoing. Sometimes still too slowly for my liking,  I recognize that my time is better spent doing what I do best. After years  spent  learning, practicing, focusing, and developing my own process for organizing and creating, I know myself well enough to know what I need, and what I don't need. I'm better at getting enough rest. Maintaining balance in all areas of my life is a priority. Being a priority is not protection from dealing with the life that pops us at different stages of a writing or other creative project.

Of course this essay comes out of some of the frustration and the challenges that have arisen as I work on the final edits of a book. No surprise there. The first time through anything new is usually more difficult than working with something familiar. Not only am I writing a new genre, I am using a new piece of software to do it.  I know, I hear those of you screaming, "Don't you know not to change horses mid stream?"  Live and learn. And I believe what I have been learning, among other things, these past few weeks is, there are all kinds of hidden dangers hiding in the bushes. Things will pop up at the least expected times, and what you do is deal with them. Well, you deal with them until you find that what you're doing is like banging your head into a wall. No, at times the best thing to do is step away. Take a break. Think through alternative ways to handle a situation. And at some point coping with an issue, solving a problem, or unraveling a mystery might just involve getting professional help.

Before you start imaging me on the analyst's couch, the kind of help I mean is  technical help. Get someone to be your tech person. Get a good editor. Hire a housekeeper on occasion, and always be willing to step away from the situation long enough to see one of the many other ways of getting a task completed, solving a tricky problem, or handling the aspects of the job you don't need to do, to someone who wants to do it, and who knows how to do it.  Our job as writers, is to do the writing. Save yourself a lot of stress, grief, time, energy, and can I say time twice"?  We have limited amounts of resources, and we want to use our time, energy, inspiration, and ideas to create something useful, meaningful, or entertaining. Expand your circle to include those who would love to do what you haven't a clue how to do.  Take it a little more easy. Stop when you're jammed up, and take a long walk. Stop working and fix a nice meal. Set the table, and sit down and dine. Plan and take vacations--long ones and short ones.

Appreciate the beauty and ease that flows when you're headed in the right direction. Begin to notice when you hit brick walls, or meet with overwhelming obstacles, the message is clear. Stop, take some time to refresh and regenerate, and step away from the fire that threatens to burn or destroy the essence of who you really are.  When our emotional energy gets reved up, we need to learn to lower our levels of stress and frustration. The easiest way to begin doing this is to recognize where you are addicted to the drama or the need to fix things,  or like me, figure something out. Get things in perspective. Someone wrote, it may have been Annie Lamott, "Everything works better when you unplug it and reboot it." Even we work, create, and live more productive lives when we take some time out. Before you get so wrapped up in the 'have to get this done yesterday' mentality, consider how you could change things, one little piece at a time.

Keeping On

A rainy day and one that hasn't necessarily gone as planned. Like any day ever does, but some days I know I want to get more done than I'm actually capable of doing. Does getting things done actually have anything to do with capabilities? Sometimes it does, other times it's more to do with motivation, desire, direction, or use of time. Occasionally, I use the term loosely, we over do. We have too many irons in the fire (from my blacksmith days in some other life), or we say "yes" when we really wanted to say "no".  For whatever reasons, our writing life (or artistic life or whatever kind of life you have going for yourself) seems to take on a life of its own.

Years ago when I was taking a class at Marylhurst University, I was sitting in a classroom in the library listening to a woman, the instructor, describe a transformational experience she had recently had. She was teaching a class on spiritual gifts and the development of intuition. I thought I might learn something about how to use my intuition and imagination better. Always one for self improvement, the two things I have plenty of are imagination and intuition. But never enough is my motto. Or it was. More and more lately, I'm seeing how harmful that can be. It takes us into a lifestyle of never being satisfied with anything. It keeps us either in the past or in the future, and has us racing around trying to get somewhere else....all the time. We're never where we are because that's not enough. We have to get to the next step, the next task, the next day, the next term, the next relationship, the next year....you get the picture.

What stood out most to me when listening to this professor talk about her own experience was how she actually got to be in that room teaching that particular class. She talked about having gone through a very rigorous Ph.D. program, and getting to the point where she had begun her dissertation. She, like many of us when we're nearing a goal, decided she needed to take a break. She was exhausted, and knew she'd never finish if she didn't take a break. So she headed out into the wilderness somewhere, and found herself sitting on a mountain top looking out across the valley below.  At least that's what I recall. If I had been her, that's where you'd find me. She was outside and she was looking out and trying to figure out what was next.  She said, "It suddenly came to me as clear as a bell. I am done. I am no longer committed to this. I do not need to go any further. I'm no longer even interested in the subject."  And that was it, for her. She stopped her program, and never looked back. Instead she decided to follow her passion.

I can understand how a person can get to the point in a program, job, career, or relationship....in any role actually, where you reach the end. Especially if what called you into the role in the first place has been satisfied, or if you only went into the commitment for reasons that had little to do with passion or love or purpose or some kind of drive. For myself, I loved all my graduate work because I waited until I'd found what I really wanted. I had a few starts and stops when I was trying to be practical earlier. But when I found my calling, I was motivated, driven, and happy as a clam to be doing the work. It was a great joy to finish my work, and to see it as the grounding for what I'd spend the rest of my life doing.  Or so I thought.

My training and what I've learned and discovered has been fulfilling. All by itself it satisfied a longing within me, and prepared me for being present for others who shared similar narratives and experiences. It was not, the end of the road though. In fact, it was just another beginning. I used my training and knowledge to do what I loved for a very long time, and then I knew I had to use that same training to bring some other part of myself to fruition.

The search for beauty, understanding, and healing through writing and and the arts, has opened a new life to me. There are endless possibilities, and each time I choose a  new direction in this, I discover how the past is always present in what I do and who I am.  I bring into each new experience all of what I've learned and experienced from the past. Nothing is wasted. Sometimes though, some of what I bring into the present is no longer necessary and in fact impedes my progress and growth and creativity.

Revising a novel is similar to reviewing one's life. Going back over something that happened rather spontaneously, sometimes planned but often haphazardly, we see where we could have done things differently. If we are really troubled by something in the past, say how long we stayed in a bad marriage or job, or how we allowed our family ties to bind us just a little too long, we attempt to fix it all in the present. We stew and moan and groan and feel the pain, all over again. Sometimes we carry the wounds of the past with us throughout our entire lives. We call it memory or experience or wisdom or abuse. Whatever we call it, it is not necessary to tote it around forever.

What does the past have to do with what causes us to get jammed up in the present? What do our attitudes, patterns of thinking and behavior have to do with how we create or learn or make choices now? Well for one major thing, they block up our thinking. We forget that we are no longer bound and tied in the basement of our past. We have options and the freedom to exercise them. We need to remind ourselves, periodically, that we can act on our own behalf. It seems that we can convince ourselves that 'this is how it is', or 'I've always been like this', or 'I'm too_____ to do _____'.  No, I say, that does not have to be the end of it. That is fear raising it's ugly head. Making us doubt or feel confused. We may have bought into someone's appraisal of who we are...someone who had no idea who we were, but gave us our marching instructions.

What I find in writing and all the detail work that goes with it, is that at some point I'm going to run into something that will make me feel like I can't get this done. At that point I need to stop and ask myself from where does that belief that I have arise? What makes me think that I cannot do this? You may find answers when you ask the questions, or you may not. Ask anyway, and then keep going. Sometimes our biggest fear is of the unknown. "I may not be able to get through this" or "I have no idea what I'm doing". We hear our old enemies' voices (inner critics and outer abusers) telling us we should find a back up, keep our day job, or  wait until later.  Others who seem to know more than we do might even be so cruel as to say "Why would you ever want to do that?" or "Why don't you get a real job?".  I'm sure if you've ever set out on an adventure, you remember the warnings.

My Mother's favorite was, "What if something happens? What will you do?"  I remember the last time she said this to me. I was getting ready to take a road trip alone. this was decades ago, but that particular conversation stands out as if it were a minute ago. I remember looking at her, and saying,
"If something happens, I'll take care of it."  I also remember several years later, shortly before she died, she told me, "I used to worry so much for you. I was afraid something would happen and you wouldn't know what to do. But I am so proud of you. You have done such a good job, and have made me proud."

What I would love to say to my Mother now is, thank you. Thank you for being concerned about me. No one else probably ever will care for me in the way my Mother did. But I would also like to say to her, "I'm sure something will happen. Something wonderful may happen. And many wonderful things did. Something not so wonderful many also happen, and I will have the courage, strength, spiritual wisdom, and support I need to cope with whatever that may be. I will be able to stand at your bedside as you lay dying, and be there for you like no one else. I will wipe your brow, sing songs to you, and unite our family in prayer as you pass into your heavenly body. I will have your love and support, and good sense with me all the days of my life. And when I'm feeling like I just don't know whether I can do this next thing, I'll remember you believed in me more than you worried about me. And that gives me something I can pass along to others. It also gives me strength for today, peace for the past, and trust in the future.

Whatever your calling is or whatever gifts and talents you have, allow yourself the freedom to step beyond fear, doubt, confusion, and security needs to pursue what will inevitably give you purpose, meaning, and fulfillment in life. And what you create out of this kind of commitment will touch others in ways you can only imagine. Keep going, in spite of obstacles, challenges, and times when you'd rather watch daytime soaps or binge watch Thrones. Let yourself  live your highest good, and when you do, you add to the ongoing Creation. We are the creators, and we can do more than we think we can. We can touch those we never know. And we can leave something of beauty and meaning to help lift and heal others. Let yourself loosen the ties that bind you and hold you back. Give yourself a pep talk, take a shower, and get back to work. You can do it.

Keeping On

A rainy day and one that hasn't necessarily gone as planned. Like any day ever does, but some days I know I want to get more done than I'm actually capable of doing. Does getting things done actually have anything to do with capabilities? Sometimes it does, other times it's more to do with motivation, desire, direction, or use of time. Occasionally, I use the term loosely, we over do. We have too many irons in the fire (from my blacksmith days in some other life), or we say "yes" when we really wanted to say "no".  For whatever reasons, our writing life (or artistic life or whatever kind of life you have going for yourself) seems to take on a life of its own.

Years ago when I was taking a class at Marylhurst University, I was sitting in a classroom in the library listening to a woman, the instructor, describe a transformational experience she had recently had. She was teaching a class on spiritual gifts and the development of intuition. I thought I might learn something about how to use my intuition and imagination better. Always one for self improvement, the two things I have plenty of are imagination and intuition. But never enough is my motto. Or it was. More and more lately, I'm seeing how harmful that can be. It takes us into a lifestyle of never being satisfied with anything. It keeps us either in the past or in the future, and has us racing around trying to get somewhere else....all the time. We're never where we are because that's not enough. We have to get to the next step, the next task, the next day, the next term, the next relationship, the next year....you get the picture.

What stood out most to me when listening to this professor talk about her own experience was how she actually got to be in that room teaching that particular class. She talked about having gone through a very rigorous Ph.D. program, and getting to the point where she had begun her dissertation. She, like many of us when we're nearing a goal, decided she needed to take a break. She was exhausted, and knew she'd never finish if she didn't take a break. So she headed out into the wilderness somewhere, and found herself sitting on a mountain top looking out across the valley below.  At least that's what I recall. If I had been her, that's where you'd find me. She was outside and she was looking out and trying to figure out what was next.  She said, "It suddenly came to me as clear as a bell. I am done. I am no longer committed to this. I do not need to go any further. I'm no longer even interested in the subject."  And that was it, for her. She stopped her program, and never looked back. Instead she decided to follow her passion.

I can understand how a person can get to the point in a program, job, career, or relationship....in any role actually, where you reach the end. Especially if what called you into the role in the first place has been satisfied, or if you only went into the commitment for reasons that had little to do with passion or love or purpose or some kind of drive. For myself, I loved all my graduate work because I waited until I'd found what I really wanted. I had a few starts and stops when I was trying to be practical earlier. But when I found my calling, I was motivated, driven, and happy as a clam to be doing the work. It was a great joy to finish my work, and to see it as the grounding for what I'd spend the rest of my life doing.  Or so I thought.

My training and what I've learned and discovered has been fulfilling. All by itself it satisfied a longing within me, and prepared me for being present for others who shared similar narratives and experiences. It was not, the end of the road though. In fact, it was just another beginning. I used my training and knowledge to do what I loved for a very long time, and then I knew I had to use that same training to bring some other part of myself to fruition.

The search for beauty, understanding, and healing through writing and and the arts, has opened a new life to me. There are endless possibilities, and each time I choose a  new direction in this, I discover how the past is always present in what I do and who I am.  I bring into each new experience all of what I've learned and experienced from the past. Nothing is wasted. Sometimes though, some of what I bring into the present is no longer necessary and in fact impedes my progress and growth and creativity.

Revising a novel is similar to reviewing one's life. Going back over something that happened rather spontaneously, sometimes planned but often haphazardly, we see where we could have done things differently. If we are really troubled by something in the past, say how long we stayed in a bad marriage or job, or how we allowed our family ties to bind us just a little too long, we attempt to fix it all in the present. We stew and moan and groan and feel the pain, all over again. Sometimes we carry the wounds of the past with us throughout our entire lives. We call it memory or experience or wisdom or abuse. Whatever we call it, it is not necessary to tote it around forever.

What does the past have to do with what causes us to get jammed up in the present? What do our attitudes, patterns of thinking and behavior have to do with how we create or learn or make choices now? Well for one major thing, they block up our thinking. We forget that we are no longer bound and tied in the basement of our past. We have options and the freedom to exercise them. We need to remind ourselves, periodically, that we can act on our own behalf. It seems that we can convince ourselves that 'this is how it is', or 'I've always been like this', or 'I'm too_____ to do _____'.  No, I say, that does not have to be the end of it. That is fear raising it's ugly head. Making us doubt or feel confused. We may have bought into someone's appraisal of who we are...someone who had no idea who we were, but gave us our marching instructions.

What I find in writing and all the detail work that goes with it, is that at some point I'm going to run into something that will make me feel like I can't get this done. At that point I need to stop and ask myself from where does that belief that I have arise? What makes me think that I cannot do this? You may find answers when you ask the questions, or you may not. Ask anyway, and then keep going. Sometimes our biggest fear is of the unknown. "I may not be able to get through this" or "I have no idea what I'm doing". We hear our old enemies' voices (inner critics and outer abusers) telling us we should find a back up, keep our day job, or  wait until later.  Others who seem to know more than we do might even be so cruel as to say "Why would you ever want to do that?" or "Why don't you get a real job?".  I'm sure if you've ever set out on an adventure, you remember the warnings.

My Mother's favorite was, "What if something happens? What will you do?"  I remember the last time she said this to me. I was getting ready to take a road trip alone. this was decades ago, but that particular conversation stands out as if it were a minute ago. I remember looking at her, and saying,
"If something happens, I'll take care of it."  I also remember several years later, shortly before she died, she told me, "I used to worry so much for you. I was afraid something would happen and you wouldn't know what to do. But I am so proud of you. You have done such a good job, and have made me proud."

What I would love to say to my Mother now is, thank you. Thank you for being concerned about me. No one else probably ever will care for me in the way my Mother did. But I would also like to say to her, "I'm sure something will happen. Something wonderful may happen. And many wonderful things did. Something not so wonderful many also happen, and I will have the courage, strength, spiritual wisdom, and support I need to cope with whatever that may be. I will be able to stand at your bedside as you lay dying, and be there for you like no one else. I will wipe your brow, sing songs to you, and unite our family in prayer as you pass into your heavenly body. I will have your love and support, and good sense with me all the days of my life. And when I'm feeling like I just don't know whether I can do this next thing, I'll remember you believed in me more than you worried about me. And that gives me something I can pass along to others. It also gives me strength for today, peace for the past, and trust in the future.

Whatever you calling is or whatever gifts and talents you have, allow yourself the freedom to step beyond fear, doubt, confusion, and security needs to pursue what will inevitably give you purpose, meaning, and fulfillment in life. And what you create out of this kind of commitment, will touch others in ways you can only imagine. Keep going, in spite of obstacles, challenges, and times when you'd rather watch daytime soaps or binge watch Thrones. Let yourself  live your highest good, and when you do, you add to the ongoing Creation. We are the creators, and we can do more than we think we can. We can touch those we never know. And we can leave something of beauty and meaning to help lift and heal others. Let yourself loosen the ties that bind you and hold you back. Give yourself a pep talk, take a shower, and get back to work. You can do it.

Breaking through the Logjam

Bursting Through the Log Jams

Writing is a lot like rafting on a river. There are spots that are swift and exciting. There are other spots where there seems to be a huge log jam hindering any progress forward. To move ahead, we need to get out of the boat and remove whatever is blocking our passage forward. That’s where I’ve been as I prepare for the 2nd revision of the WIP I’m working on. I’d love to say, “I’m finishing up”, and in a way that’s true. However at this point, it doesn’t feel like that.



Editing and revising can be slow and tedious. At the very least, it’s not very creative. Add to that the technological difficulties that are part and parcel when using a computer. Sluggish modems, new unfamiliar software, and mysterious crashes and missing documents. Oh nothing major, but those moments when you can’t find what was just in front of you. It can be frustrating and disheartening. Not to mention being at the far end of a long process, I’m ready to be done.



I took a wee break and did some organizing and house keeping. I got out and did a bit of socializing, and read more than usual. I made some good healthy meals, and had some great experiences with yoga and meditation, and last night at meditation, it hit me. I was feeling as if I was never going to get the river unblocked. Logjams don’t happen very often with most of what I write. I might have to step away from a piece for a few hours or a couple of days, but usually find my way to the end in a relatively short period of time. What was different?

One problem I had was I was counting. That’s right. When I finally got myself back into the daily routine of revising and editing, I began keeping track of how much I’d finished. That was probably a mistake. Three chapters in one day, two the next, and then ten. The Ten Day gave me lots of energy, and then also gave me permission to ‘take a little break’.  Taking little breaks when you’re working on getting momentum going, is also probably not a great idea. Pushing on is better, if only because if I finish up  a day’s work feeling like I’ve accomplished something, then I have more energy for going on. Oh, this all sounds so well thought out. It isn’t. I’m simply looking for explanations that help me understand my resistance to doing this part of the work.

The only other times I remember feeling like this was when I was completing my thesis and then my dissertation. The researching and writing part of those two projects was grueling and long.  When I got to the end, I was so relieved but also tired.  It’s not like the rest of life stops so you can write a graduate thesis. It’s not like you don’t have mounds of other responsibilities to do in addition to getting that dissertation done. Yet, I found myself at this time of the year many years ago, feeling as if I might never get to the end of the work. At that time, I had a fabulous dissertation advisor who helped me all along the way. She even flew all the way from New Zealand to spend a week helping me over the final stages of the dissertation–in essence, helping remove the log jam that was blocking the flow of energy at that time.

Last night in meditation as I listened to people talking about what they were each dealing with, I recognized the log jam factor. The point in any journey, situation, condition, relationship, or stage of development when we just know we have to get beyond something that is keeping us stuck. The point when knowing that, we still don’t know how to do it, or we think we don’t. On my refrigerator is a quotation I posted years ago. The crumpled, white piece of typing paper with the big block letters is faded and splattered with spaghetti sauce and other flying debris. The quotation is from author, John Hersey

It reads:  “To be a writer is to sit down at one’s desk in the chill portion of every day, and to write; not waiting for the little jet of the blue flame of genius to start from the breastbone–just plain going at it, in pain and delight To be a writer is to throw away a great deal, not to be satisfied, to type again, and then again and once more, and over and over.”

This quotation is held up by refrigerator magnets and reminds me every single morning, what my commitment is. And that is what writing is about. It is about a commitment to begin, develop, and complete something so that a portion of my story, a piece of a tale, or a bit of my observations of life are out of my head and imagination. The ideas and imagination have taken form through words, in the case of a writer, and are meant to be shared. Hopefully to be enjoyed and shared with others. And so I might not show up as often as others in public gatherings or in meetings or on committees or boards and the like. But I do show up every morning, at my writing table.

And when I show up at my writing table, I fight my way through all the voices and critics in my head that distract me from my mission. I stand firm in my own desire and commitment to do what I set out to do. In this case, to complete my first mystery novel. The fun part was the initial telling of the story. And I’m finding out that I can go back into the story and change things a bit here and a bit there, and actually make the story more intriguing or easier to read or more sensually alive.  For two weeks, I’ve been struggling with the logjam that is not a physical block. It is a block of my will and determination that has talked me out of trying a little harder or pushing myself on. I keep telling myself, I’m not getting enough done. I’m not making much progress, and then sure enough, that’s what it feels like.

Part of the logjam has been my negative perspective on what I’m doing. Knowing that, will I change it?  Last week I finished 7 chapters. This week I have finished 21 more. I now have only 56 more to go.  Numbers overwhelm me, so let’s not count too often. Once a week, take stock, and know that we are moving right along. The flow is increasing. The time wasted worrying, fretting, or stewing is lessening. The numbers are growing in the right direction, and it will be done when it’s done. If I analyze my progress, at the rate I’ve been moving, I should be done in 4 weeks. Unless, that is, I get an influx of energy and have more 10 days than not. Then it can be finished sooner. After that, I’m leaving the copyediting to someone else because at this point, I no longer see what is on the page. It’s all too familiar to me.

In the meantime I have some plans to keep me from getting stuck in a logjam again. I’m doing other kinds of writing so I keep my creative juices flowing. I’m doing something creative that is not writing…not sure what though I’ve been playing with watercolors and pen and ink sketches. Maybe I’ll build something. When I finished my Bachelors degrees, what I longed to do was move to the Oregon Coast, find and old barn to disassemble and build a house. Instead, I cut my hair and bought myself a beautiful Rosewood guitar and I took some classical guitar lessons. I still play the guitar, and now have two–one here in Oregon, the other, the Rosewood, in San Francisco at my Daughter’s house. I play when I take time. Last night on the Full Moon energy, I turned music back on in my life.

It’s been months since I’ve enjoyed music. A good friend, musician Mark Josephs died right after the first of the year, and it’s been hard for me to enjoy music since his death. Music connects us to old loves, losses, and connections. Over a year and a half ago, my long weird wacky marriage ended, and so much of the music of my life is wrapped up in that lost love. Music brought me to a place of peace with my long-dead Father, and helped seal up a little more of the lingering rifts that separate us from those we love. Music is also what brings us to life, and so what came to me last night was it is time for some new music in my life. Something that helps me form new connections and new memories. Something that brings new life into my life. New meaning into whatever I do, including the writing.

Logjams can be found in all kinds of places in our lives. In our work, in our relationships, in the way we live, or the way we think. But what seems important to recognize, to me, is that it’s all about how we think about it. Our thinking makes it so. That’s a Motherism…probably a quote from the Scot poet, Robert Burns. She was always quoting Bobby Burns. For me, the cool stillness of the early morning, is where I have found my sweet spot, my time to write and ride the flow of the river of thought, imagination, and the mystical writing fairies who do show up, if I do. So I will just continue ”

Get On Your Mark. Get Set. Revise!

Writing anything is a lot like a sport. It requires being in good condition. It necessitates having a clear idea of what you're doing and where you're headed. And it requires a plan for getting from the start of the game or race to the finish line. This past year my goals changed drastically. Nearly a year ago, I did a reassessment of what kinds of writing I wanted to do, and what I wanted to let go of in order to focus on my goals.  At the time, I wasn't sure how it was going to turn out, but at this point, I can say, I'm very glad I switched to a new game.

For years I'd played around with an idea for a mystery novel. It sat on the shelf, in a file folder, and on flopping discs and then hard drives, until I had some spare time to work on it. The mystery novel seed was always at the bottom of the priorities list.  That is until last year when once again I pulled it out, to work on it.  This time however, I asked someone else to read what I'd done so far. It was only about 5-6 chapters into a story...not much for so many years of keeping the project on the top shelf of my closet. This time however, I wanted to get some feedback from someone who knew writing. I wanted to see if there was enough started to be worth making it a priority or not.

Not only were the first few chapters interesting to the reader, they also sparked an interest in her to help me get the project off the ground. Since then, my writing life has been devoted to writing the first draft of my first novel, Body on the Beach.  Early in the summer I finished the first draft, and then I set to work revising it. After a first run through, I set the draft aside for a week to decide what I wanted to do next. More work was needed getting rid of some pieces that didn't add to the story, and getting more involved with my main characters.  I also needed some rest. So rather than continuing to piddle away editing or redoing one thing or another, I simply put the manuscript aside.

The first time through with any kind of experience is always about learning by doing, at least it is for me. This has definitely been a learning experience. And what has helped me a lot is listening to other writers and my editor/reader.  Also wanting to make things easier and more efficient for my editor/reader, has made me come up with some ways to cut down on excess paperwork, unnecessary repetition, and needless busy work.  One  of the best things for me was having a skilled reader and editor who urged me not to look back. She continually encouraged me to keep writing.

One of the problems I have as a writer is that I am also an editor and teacher. As a result, I am hypercritical of my work, and yet that does not serve me well. It cuts into the pleasure of being creative. During the revision of this book, which we have nicknamed BOB, I have had the tendency to spend too much time on copy editing, and not enough time yet, on really developing the characters and flow as I want to.

This last week I found I just couldn't go any further. I decided the best thing to do was to change things up, and vary my routine.  Took time to socialize with friends, did some light reading, and took lots of naps. Got back into my dreams, and began considering how to change the layout of my office. Moved my desk, and am setting the scene for the next phase of the revision process. I also took some time to cook and clean up a bit.  Took some nice walks, got out and did a bunch of photography, and caught up with a lot of things that have been overlooked while I've been so focused on writing.Earlier a the end of last week, my reader/editor and I met to kick back and relax and to talk about what we wanted to do next.

Thanks to some great advice I got from author, Angela M. Sanders of Portland, Oregon (and Paris in the summer), I am now using a new type of software that is designed for writers. The software is so much more compatible for writing a novel than what we have been doing most of the year. I introduced my reader/editor to it, hoping she would like it. And she did. So earlier this week I contacted the software company to find out how to go about equipping her with the software. Taking care of details, getting things in order, including me, and looking forward to setting out a plan of action to bring this book to its conclusion.

That reminded me of an email conversation I had years ago with another writer, C. Hope Clarke. It was mid-summer, and she was just about where I am with her first novel, Lowcountry Bribe.  She was asking herself the same kinds of questions I am asking myself right now? What next? What order  should I tackle this? And am I ever going to finish?  The one question I try not to spend too much time on, is "Is it any good?"  At this point, I know it's pretty good, and what I want to do is clean it up and tighten it up, and get it ready for market.  When she was asking herself the questions about her first book, I was asking myself the questions of how to start bringing some of my writing projects to a conclusion?

Our mutual conversations, and the support I received from her and other writers, has provided me with what I needed to get 6 books finished, published, and on the market. Three books of poetry, a book on understanding the Tarot, an inspirational books, and my latest book, a collection of essays entitled, Tales from the Lily Pad.  Last year at the end of August, I decided to put BOB at the top of my list, and have been working on it steadily ever since.

Yesterday after yoga and coffee with a couple of friends, I decided I was getting fidgety and anxious to get back to work. Instead of doing it right away, I just let myself notice how I felt.  I decided to let myself have the weekend off, and then get set to start work again on Monday morning. Today I had a massage, and noticed how much my body still needs to be worked on. Part of my writing routine includes yoga, but it's going to have to also include some more swimming, walking, and healthy activities to keep my body and the rest of me in good shape.

And then there's the question, "Where do I begin?"  Ask the question and sure enough, someone is bound to have an answer. After going for my massage, getting some lunch, and sitting on top of the hill looking out at the river on this beautiful day, I drove home to rest.  I opened my Facebook page, and noticed an article written by San Francisco author, Susan Ito. Her article was on, you guessed it, revision.  She teaches some workshops on revision, and her article was the perfect answer for what I needed. She outlined just the things I'm going to do, and explained them in a very practical way--a way that put order and organization into place for me.  So what I'm going to do for the rest of the weekend is relax, and get outdoors to enjoy life.

The writing process, no matter what kind of writing we do, is something that demands an understanding of how much control and order we need to keep things in shape, and how much freedom and letting go we need to let our characters tell us their stories. Whenever I take a break from the creative part of writing, I have this sense that my characters are all sitting just above me, chit chatting over tea and toast, calling out to me, and urging me to get back to the table with them. I can hardly wait. Ready or not, here I come.