Five on Friday

1. Here’s an interesting opportunity for any novelists under contract out there.

2. New Year’s Resolutions in October? Apparently so.

3. Jonathan Safran Foer on writing and the creative process.

4. This is disturbing. Foods you think are healthy or healthy-ish but actually aren’t.

5. Joss Whedon on how to be prolific.

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The Art of Letting Go

I recently burned twenty plus years worth of old notebooks and journals.

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Wow. Did I really write that? Did I really do that?

Yes to both. It seems almost a sacrilegious confession for a writer to make. How could I destroy all those pages? All those words? All that energy?

All that energy. There it was. That was why. All those pages stacked in my closet, oozing all these tedious, negative, judgmental thoughts. As a writer, I believe words have power. So why was I keeping all those words where I beat myself up, judged myself, berated myself? I used to think that maybe, someday, if I became a “famous writer”, those notebooks might be of interest to somebody. Then I realized that I never wanted anybody to read them. Hell, I didn’t even read them. Ever. So back to the original question, why was I keeping them? Attachment? To what? My past. Who I used to be.

photo-13Letting go of anything is hard. A piece of clothing. Books. Beliefs. Habits. A grudge. Letting go of all those pieces of me- that would be really hard, right? It wasn’t. But it wasn’t easy either. I’d watch a page turn brown around the edges, the exact color of a perfectly roasted marshmallow, then black before the flames flared turning it to ash. I’d be reading some of the words as they burned and part of me would think, “Wait! Stop! Not that page. Not that sentence.” Then I’d sit back and watch it disappear and this feeling of calm settled over me. A lightness of Spirit. A faith that more words would come. Trust that I was not the same person now who wrote those words five, ten, twenty years ago.

It took me two afternoons to finish the job. One of the best lessons from the experience came from the actual logistics of burning the pages. Just when I thought the fire was out, the pile of papers stagnant, all I had to do was stoke it, poke it, rustle it a bit and every time, every single time, the flames burst back to life. Just like any creative endeavor. No matter how stuck I get, how stagnant a project seems,  all I need to do is stoke it with some fresh movement, fresh air to breathe life back into it.

Once I was done, I smudged my writing space and especially the closet where the notebooks had lived for so long, giving thanks, letting go of what no longer serves me, inviting in what serves me now. While a part of me is sad at losing those pieces of me, mostly I am liberated. I feel I have opened up all this new space in and around me, space for new words, new work, new stories, new habits. In releasing the echoes of who I used to be, I welcome who I am now, in this moment and look forward to who I will be in the next moment, next week, next year and decades to come.

Time for Change

I’ve had to rethink this blog. Obviously, I haven’t been as engaged lately with so much going on this year, so I had to ask myself some questions:

Do I still even want to blog? Yes.

Do I want it to be strictly about writing? No.

Do I want to create an entirely separate blog? No.

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On my four-mile walk around the lake this morning, listening to the awesome Brené Brown, I realized that I no longer feel connected to the theme and title of my old blog, No Credentials Necessary. It felt like I was tying myself to scarcity, what I didn’t have, namely a few letters to go behind my name. I decided I didn’t want a lack of something to be my focus. So, I began thinking about what I do have in my life: writing, reading, art, yoga not to mention family and friends. And what connects all of these things is being present, and being present is a practice, an art. Aha…the art of practice.

So, here I am. A new focus, a new direction. It’s where I am now and that is something I am trying to honor daily, even moment by moment. It’s a practice, for sure. And it’s practice to stay open to what is possible, to all that is possible.