Writing Exercises
JUNE 2017: IT'S IN HERE SOMEPLACE
"Where do you keep your pliers?" my partner asked recently. "Here in the junk drawer," I replied, flinging it open. Halfway down a stack of kitchen drawers live many unrelated household items. Useful ones like scissors, matches, duct tape jumble with expired batteries and instructions to a kitchen appliance I no longer own. Everywhere, hundreds (thousands?) of rubber bands -- and, eventually surfacing, the pliers. Do you have a junk drawer? What constitutes junk, for you? Are you happy with how you relate to your junk storage and the junk itself? Reflect and write. It may not change your junk drawer, but it's illuminating.
"Where do you keep your pliers?" my partner asked recently. "Here in the junk drawer," I replied, flinging it open. Halfway down a stack of kitchen drawers live many unrelated household items. Useful ones like scissors, matches, duct tape jumble with expired batteries and instructions to a kitchen appliance I no longer own. Everywhere, hundreds (thousands?) of rubber bands -- and, eventually surfacing, the pliers. Do you have a junk drawer? What constitutes junk, for you? Are you happy with how you relate to your junk storage and the junk itself? Reflect and write. It may not change your junk drawer, but it's illuminating.
MAY 2017: STORED UP
I keep reading about the dire economic consequences of our fascination with online shopping to bricks-and-mortar stores all over this country. When you can get anything from pet food to power tools with a click, why leave home? What kinds of shopping memories will the youngest browsers among us have? I can close my eyes and be back at the butcher counter at Monte Vista Market on Piedmont Avenue where my grandmother would inquire about the freshness of the Dungeness crab and I might get a slice of salami. Although I grumbled at accompanying my dad to the hardware store, I loved looking at paint chips. So many shades of blue! What shopping memories do you have from early life? Write about a toy shop, a stationer's, the local department store, or a newspaper stand, and re-experience their riches.
I keep reading about the dire economic consequences of our fascination with online shopping to bricks-and-mortar stores all over this country. When you can get anything from pet food to power tools with a click, why leave home? What kinds of shopping memories will the youngest browsers among us have? I can close my eyes and be back at the butcher counter at Monte Vista Market on Piedmont Avenue where my grandmother would inquire about the freshness of the Dungeness crab and I might get a slice of salami. Although I grumbled at accompanying my dad to the hardware store, I loved looking at paint chips. So many shades of blue! What shopping memories do you have from early life? Write about a toy shop, a stationer's, the local department store, or a newspaper stand, and re-experience their riches.
APRIL 2017: TRADITIONS WORTH KEEPING
"Costa Rica!" "Mexico!" Two plumbers standing in my kitchen are suddenly shouting at one another when all I did was relay to them the score of the Warriors game in progress, appreciative of their coming out to deal with my overflowing sink on a Saturday night. Not basketball but soccer engaged them, and for a few minutes, I heard about their family traditions of fandom that required them to root for one nation's team over all others. What tradition from your family or friendship group do you uphold, and what have you left behind? I send birthday cards to relatives as my Auntie Mary did even when she could hardly write legibly anymore, but I've let go of making my grandmother's chocolate icebox cake. Fortunately for my adult daughters who crave it, their dad has taken on that tradition. Write about a tradition you carry on as well as one that you've decided to forego.
"Costa Rica!" "Mexico!" Two plumbers standing in my kitchen are suddenly shouting at one another when all I did was relay to them the score of the Warriors game in progress, appreciative of their coming out to deal with my overflowing sink on a Saturday night. Not basketball but soccer engaged them, and for a few minutes, I heard about their family traditions of fandom that required them to root for one nation's team over all others. What tradition from your family or friendship group do you uphold, and what have you left behind? I send birthday cards to relatives as my Auntie Mary did even when she could hardly write legibly anymore, but I've let go of making my grandmother's chocolate icebox cake. Fortunately for my adult daughters who crave it, their dad has taken on that tradition. Write about a tradition you carry on as well as one that you've decided to forego.
MARCH 2017: THE OLD TRIBE, THE NEW COMPANIONS
A wise woman recently told me that becoming your own person requires leaving the tribal mentality that you took for granted. I agree, and no doubt the tribe or tribes we grew up with -- our immediate family, hometown, or some larger identification like Army brat -- continue to live inside us. In addition to questioning the automatic tribal mindset when it arises, we can also inquire as to our belonging places and people now. My former colleague, the late anthropologist Angeles Arrien said that at the vernal equinox, the Basque people had a practice of asking themselves two questions: What is my path at this time? Who do I want to accompany me on my path at this time? As we move toward spring's arrival this month, do some writing to identify those best suited to be your traveling companions in the new season.
A wise woman recently told me that becoming your own person requires leaving the tribal mentality that you took for granted. I agree, and no doubt the tribe or tribes we grew up with -- our immediate family, hometown, or some larger identification like Army brat -- continue to live inside us. In addition to questioning the automatic tribal mindset when it arises, we can also inquire as to our belonging places and people now. My former colleague, the late anthropologist Angeles Arrien said that at the vernal equinox, the Basque people had a practice of asking themselves two questions: What is my path at this time? Who do I want to accompany me on my path at this time? As we move toward spring's arrival this month, do some writing to identify those best suited to be your traveling companions in the new season.
FEBRUARY 2017: DO YOU REALLY KNOW THIS WILL HAPPEN?
San Francisco author Rebecca Solnit used a phrase in a recent lecture that lit a fire in my mind. She suggests that we are too vulnerable to what she called "omniscient defeatism." Defining this as overly confident catastrophic thinking, she challenged everyone in full reactive mode to pause and question our conviction that the new U.S. President will ensure that [fill in the blank with the worst-case outcome socially, politically, ecologically etc.]. She's not suggesting that we fail to be aware and active, only to rein in the emotional overkill. Write about what tempts you to omniscient defeatism -- it can be anything from global warming to personal financial well-being to finding a partner or a new friendship group -- and challenge your assumptions. It will bring you energy and clarity!
San Francisco author Rebecca Solnit used a phrase in a recent lecture that lit a fire in my mind. She suggests that we are too vulnerable to what she called "omniscient defeatism." Defining this as overly confident catastrophic thinking, she challenged everyone in full reactive mode to pause and question our conviction that the new U.S. President will ensure that [fill in the blank with the worst-case outcome socially, politically, ecologically etc.]. She's not suggesting that we fail to be aware and active, only to rein in the emotional overkill. Write about what tempts you to omniscient defeatism -- it can be anything from global warming to personal financial well-being to finding a partner or a new friendship group -- and challenge your assumptions. It will bring you energy and clarity!
JANUARY 2017: BEYOND THE WORD OF THE YEAR
The Oxford English Dictionary has declared 2016's word of the year to be "post-truth." Since I find this appalling, I went to my file on the topic TRUTH to see what quotes or poems might help me and found this by Maurice Maeterlinck: "To think is often to deceive oneself, and the thinker who has lost the way has frequent need to return to the place where those who hardly think at all have remained faithfully seated around a silent but necessary truth. They guard the fire of the tribe; and others carry the torches, and, when the torch begins to flicker, must wisely come back to the fire." What is the "silent but necessary truth" that calls you back when your guiding fire begins to fade? What truth will you defend and uphold in the coming year? Write to anchor the truths you live by.
The Oxford English Dictionary has declared 2016's word of the year to be "post-truth." Since I find this appalling, I went to my file on the topic TRUTH to see what quotes or poems might help me and found this by Maurice Maeterlinck: "To think is often to deceive oneself, and the thinker who has lost the way has frequent need to return to the place where those who hardly think at all have remained faithfully seated around a silent but necessary truth. They guard the fire of the tribe; and others carry the torches, and, when the torch begins to flicker, must wisely come back to the fire." What is the "silent but necessary truth" that calls you back when your guiding fire begins to fade? What truth will you defend and uphold in the coming year? Write to anchor the truths you live by.
DECEMBER 2016: THE RIGHT KIND OF LIST
December is often a month of lists -- what to get people for a holiday gift, who to include in a gathering, what extra tasks have to be done on top of the regular to-do list. Enough! Try listing in response to this question: What gifts have I received this year? These can be tangible or intangible, subtle or life-altering. Even if you take five minutes to do this on your phone, you will shift your perspective on what matters today, this month.
December is often a month of lists -- what to get people for a holiday gift, who to include in a gathering, what extra tasks have to be done on top of the regular to-do list. Enough! Try listing in response to this question: What gifts have I received this year? These can be tangible or intangible, subtle or life-altering. Even if you take five minutes to do this on your phone, you will shift your perspective on what matters today, this month.
NOVEMBER 2016: REFLECTING ON OUR SELVES
"I am, myself, three selves at least," writes Mary Oliver in her new book of essays, Upstream. She describe that "the child I was" still comes through as a surprising small voice. Then she writes at some length of "the attentive social self. This is the smiler and the doorkeeper." While we all need that second self -- she points out that when she travels by plane, she wants the pilot to be that attentive, outwardly-focused self -- it is only the third self, the creator with "a hunger for eternity" that is her main concern. As a producing artist in her eighties, living with cancer, Oliver definitely knows how to engage and be led by that third self. How would you describe your three selves? How do they relate to one another? Who is in charge most of the time, and how is that working? Who needs to be heard more? Write on these questions and see what you discover.
"I am, myself, three selves at least," writes Mary Oliver in her new book of essays, Upstream. She describe that "the child I was" still comes through as a surprising small voice. Then she writes at some length of "the attentive social self. This is the smiler and the doorkeeper." While we all need that second self -- she points out that when she travels by plane, she wants the pilot to be that attentive, outwardly-focused self -- it is only the third self, the creator with "a hunger for eternity" that is her main concern. As a producing artist in her eighties, living with cancer, Oliver definitely knows how to engage and be led by that third self. How would you describe your three selves? How do they relate to one another? Who is in charge most of the time, and how is that working? Who needs to be heard more? Write on these questions and see what you discover.
OCTOBER 2016: VARIATIONS ON A THEME
Interviewed onstage this week in San Francisco, author Ann Patchett touring with her new novel Commonwealth described how her novels fall into a common plot structure: A group of strangers are thrown together by circumstance and form a society. She acknowledged that this is a literary classic, with works as disparate as Lord of the Flies and Lord of the Rings fitting this plotline -- and remarked that she keeps trying to write a novel that doesn't fit that theme but hadn't yet done so. Here's a way to hold up that model to your own story: When has this plotline played out in your life? For me, a random place in line at a college orientation led to a roommate, a group of lifelong friends, and a husband. Later a referral from a workshop participant I barely remembered led to ten years of work at a graduate school and becoming a student of the Hindu wisdom tradition Advaita Vedanta. Write about two or three different variations of that plot in your life. What repeating patterns do you see? What might have been different at certain choice points? Our lives yield so much richness when we take time to write and reflect.
Interviewed onstage this week in San Francisco, author Ann Patchett touring with her new novel Commonwealth described how her novels fall into a common plot structure: A group of strangers are thrown together by circumstance and form a society. She acknowledged that this is a literary classic, with works as disparate as Lord of the Flies and Lord of the Rings fitting this plotline -- and remarked that she keeps trying to write a novel that doesn't fit that theme but hadn't yet done so. Here's a way to hold up that model to your own story: When has this plotline played out in your life? For me, a random place in line at a college orientation led to a roommate, a group of lifelong friends, and a husband. Later a referral from a workshop participant I barely remembered led to ten years of work at a graduate school and becoming a student of the Hindu wisdom tradition Advaita Vedanta. Write about two or three different variations of that plot in your life. What repeating patterns do you see? What might have been different at certain choice points? Our lives yield so much richness when we take time to write and reflect.
SEPTEMBER 2016: STARTING FROM THE BASICS
This month marks the 16th anniversary of my putting out these monthly tips and exercises, and I still wonder, What do I have to say this month? By faithfully getting back to the basics of attention, something comes. Here's a reprise of my September 2002 writing exercise!
Writing from our senses brings us to alertness, and then we are clearer about what we feel here and now. Try one or more of these:
* Describe the view from your favorite place to sit.
* What sound do you associate with your favorite season of the year?
* Describe the texture and feel on your skin of an annoying piece of clothing or upholstery. Describe something you remember touching that soothed you.
* List and describe five smells that affect your mood.
* What's one unusual thing you have eaten? How did it taste? What do you refuse to eat -- and why? What taste can't you resist?
With each of these, notice what you are sensing right now and/or what you're longing to see, hear, feel, smell, or taste.
This month marks the 16th anniversary of my putting out these monthly tips and exercises, and I still wonder, What do I have to say this month? By faithfully getting back to the basics of attention, something comes. Here's a reprise of my September 2002 writing exercise!
Writing from our senses brings us to alertness, and then we are clearer about what we feel here and now. Try one or more of these:
* Describe the view from your favorite place to sit.
* What sound do you associate with your favorite season of the year?
* Describe the texture and feel on your skin of an annoying piece of clothing or upholstery. Describe something you remember touching that soothed you.
* List and describe five smells that affect your mood.
* What's one unusual thing you have eaten? How did it taste? What do you refuse to eat -- and why? What taste can't you resist?
With each of these, notice what you are sensing right now and/or what you're longing to see, hear, feel, smell, or taste.
AUGUST 2016: GET OUTSIDE!
On retreat recently I did something I'd never done, took three walks a day, one after each meal. The food at Santa Sabina Center in San Rafael is excellent, so the walks probably allowed me larger portions, but that wasn't the reason. It's summer, and there is just so much to notice, even in a suburban or urban environment. I almost didn't include a writing exercise this month because sometimes we just need to push away from the desk, but here's a possibility. Take a daily walk and choose in advance one thing you'll be looking to notice on the walk: a certain color -- birds -- sounds -- smells -- the shapes of trees or bushes. Then come back and jot down your impressions. It's summer -- that's enough for now.
On retreat recently I did something I'd never done, took three walks a day, one after each meal. The food at Santa Sabina Center in San Rafael is excellent, so the walks probably allowed me larger portions, but that wasn't the reason. It's summer, and there is just so much to notice, even in a suburban or urban environment. I almost didn't include a writing exercise this month because sometimes we just need to push away from the desk, but here's a possibility. Take a daily walk and choose in advance one thing you'll be looking to notice on the walk: a certain color -- birds -- sounds -- smells -- the shapes of trees or bushes. Then come back and jot down your impressions. It's summer -- that's enough for now.
JULY 2016: IT'S JUST A NUMBER
"Act your age!" hissed the exasperated mother to her mid-tantrum, seemingly 10 year old kid as we waited in a long grocery store check-out line. While her remark only inflamed her son and did nothing for her disposition, it got me thinking: How do we act our age? What does that even mean? For myself, my legs and knees are thankfully much younger than my age would suggest, but my feet require old-lady shoes. In my imagination, I can still run fast, but in real life my heart loves as recklessly as a teenager. I am flattered when thought to be younger than I am, yet am coming to terms with certain limits. Write about your relationship to your age -- yes, even and maybe especially if you're resistant to the very idea of your age. I will if you will.
"Act your age!" hissed the exasperated mother to her mid-tantrum, seemingly 10 year old kid as we waited in a long grocery store check-out line. While her remark only inflamed her son and did nothing for her disposition, it got me thinking: How do we act our age? What does that even mean? For myself, my legs and knees are thankfully much younger than my age would suggest, but my feet require old-lady shoes. In my imagination, I can still run fast, but in real life my heart loves as recklessly as a teenager. I am flattered when thought to be younger than I am, yet am coming to terms with certain limits. Write about your relationship to your age -- yes, even and maybe especially if you're resistant to the very idea of your age. I will if you will.
JUNE 2016: WHAT'S THAT NOISE?
All through 2015, construction noise dominated my condominium home/office life. The stack of four units next to mine had to have their balconies rebuilt, and that project ended just as the owner of the unit above mine began a down-to-the-studs remodel. Research suggests that noise is one of the two environmental factors we never get used to (commuting is the other), but I had no idea how my sleep, mood, and ability to focus would deteriorate. Now I rejoice in blessed relative quiet, but I still startle when a leaf-blower starts up. We all differ in our responses to noise, so consider writing about one or more of the following:
* What was the noise level in your home growing up?
* Do you play music or books on tape in your car?
* What constitutes an acceptable level of restaurant noise for you?
* Would you welcome or dread a silent retreat?
* Do you currently need more lively human noise or more quiet around you? How might you get more of what you need?
All through 2015, construction noise dominated my condominium home/office life. The stack of four units next to mine had to have their balconies rebuilt, and that project ended just as the owner of the unit above mine began a down-to-the-studs remodel. Research suggests that noise is one of the two environmental factors we never get used to (commuting is the other), but I had no idea how my sleep, mood, and ability to focus would deteriorate. Now I rejoice in blessed relative quiet, but I still startle when a leaf-blower starts up. We all differ in our responses to noise, so consider writing about one or more of the following:
* What was the noise level in your home growing up?
* Do you play music or books on tape in your car?
* What constitutes an acceptable level of restaurant noise for you?
* Would you welcome or dread a silent retreat?
* Do you currently need more lively human noise or more quiet around you? How might you get more of what you need?
MAY 2016: WITH A SONG IN YOUR HEART
Actually, I've got songs in my mind that I simply cannot get out. I'm singing soon in a community chorus concert, and I go to sleep with one song plaguing me and wake up with another. Earworms, those sneaky melodies and lyrics are called. But today I came across this from vocal teacher Pamela South, "All of life is a country and western song. Opera is just a country and western song in a foreign language." Love that! Here are some ideas for writing, but feel free to hum:
* Describe your year so far as if it were a country and western song.
* Sketch out an opera plot based on the upcoming presidential election
* Recall your favorite song at 5 and at 15 and describe how they grabbed you.
Actually, I've got songs in my mind that I simply cannot get out. I'm singing soon in a community chorus concert, and I go to sleep with one song plaguing me and wake up with another. Earworms, those sneaky melodies and lyrics are called. But today I came across this from vocal teacher Pamela South, "All of life is a country and western song. Opera is just a country and western song in a foreign language." Love that! Here are some ideas for writing, but feel free to hum:
* Describe your year so far as if it were a country and western song.
* Sketch out an opera plot based on the upcoming presidential election
* Recall your favorite song at 5 and at 15 and describe how they grabbed you.
APRIL 2016: IS YOUR HEART IN IT?
Poet David Whyte tells of feeling utterly depleted and asking his friend, Brother David Steindl-Rast for wisdom. "The antidote to exhaustion isn't necessarily rest," Brother David replied, "it's wholeheartedness. It has to do with coming out of hiding and having a conversation with life." We can do a lot on willpower alone, pushing ourselves unmercifully, but the cost ultimately demands our attention. Poet Mary Oliver writes, "There is nothing more pathetic than caution when headlong might save a life, even, possibly, your own." Dare to take these poets seriously and write about what your tiredness is asking of you and whether radical courageous action might be needed.
Poet David Whyte tells of feeling utterly depleted and asking his friend, Brother David Steindl-Rast for wisdom. "The antidote to exhaustion isn't necessarily rest," Brother David replied, "it's wholeheartedness. It has to do with coming out of hiding and having a conversation with life." We can do a lot on willpower alone, pushing ourselves unmercifully, but the cost ultimately demands our attention. Poet Mary Oliver writes, "There is nothing more pathetic than caution when headlong might save a life, even, possibly, your own." Dare to take these poets seriously and write about what your tiredness is asking of you and whether radical courageous action might be needed.
MARCH 2016: WORTH THE WAIT
A recent rainstorm brought a bevy of daffodils into bloom in my small condo garden, causing me to catch my breath the morning I opened the blinds and saw them suddenly on display. I forget that the volunteer bulbs are even there, and when they erupt through the ground cover, it brings the kind of small joy that lifts my spirits. When I go to the grocery store and discover that satsuma mandarins have arrived for their brief season or that local asparagus or corn is now available, I feel an equal deep pleasure. What do you wait for all year that brings you joy on arrival? Write to describe just what it is you anticipate and why it's worth the wait.
A recent rainstorm brought a bevy of daffodils into bloom in my small condo garden, causing me to catch my breath the morning I opened the blinds and saw them suddenly on display. I forget that the volunteer bulbs are even there, and when they erupt through the ground cover, it brings the kind of small joy that lifts my spirits. When I go to the grocery store and discover that satsuma mandarins have arrived for their brief season or that local asparagus or corn is now available, I feel an equal deep pleasure. What do you wait for all year that brings you joy on arrival? Write to describe just what it is you anticipate and why it's worth the wait.
FEBRUARY 2016: NOT WORTHLESS AT ALL
I have too many knick-knacks in my office, cluttering the bookshelves, adding to the desk debris. But some of them are so dear to me, and they are all familiar! I look up while on the phone, and there is my Carl Jung action figure, given me by a client, next to a small plaster statue from last summer's Giants game giveaway, a Hunter Pence gnome. The juxtaposition pleases me so. Seeking the definition of "knick-knack," I read "a small worthless object, especially a household ornament." The pleasure I get from my knick-knacks is worth plenty, but maybe it's time to prune them. Write about the knick-knacks that grace your shelves or coffee table or kitchen counter. Are they worthy company? Tell their stories and see them, and your own attachments, afresh.
I have too many knick-knacks in my office, cluttering the bookshelves, adding to the desk debris. But some of them are so dear to me, and they are all familiar! I look up while on the phone, and there is my Carl Jung action figure, given me by a client, next to a small plaster statue from last summer's Giants game giveaway, a Hunter Pence gnome. The juxtaposition pleases me so. Seeking the definition of "knick-knack," I read "a small worthless object, especially a household ornament." The pleasure I get from my knick-knacks is worth plenty, but maybe it's time to prune them. Write about the knick-knacks that grace your shelves or coffee table or kitchen counter. Are they worthy company? Tell their stories and see them, and your own attachments, afresh.
JANUARY 2016: ALIVE AT THE SAME TIME
The longer I live, the more I value having people to respect and admire. I've caught myself saying, "I'm glad I'm alive at the same time as... the Dalai Lama" or someone else I may not have met but who is an icon of what's possible for a human being. I'm glad that Gloria Steinem has been out on the road crusading for equal opportunity and justice all these years, that Jimmy Carter created Habitat for Humanity rather than pouting about his poor reputation as a President. Make your own list of people whose time on the planet has coincided with yours and been a gift. Strengthen that gratitude and encouragement by writing about the significance of one of those exemplars, whether famous or known only to you and a few.
The longer I live, the more I value having people to respect and admire. I've caught myself saying, "I'm glad I'm alive at the same time as... the Dalai Lama" or someone else I may not have met but who is an icon of what's possible for a human being. I'm glad that Gloria Steinem has been out on the road crusading for equal opportunity and justice all these years, that Jimmy Carter created Habitat for Humanity rather than pouting about his poor reputation as a President. Make your own list of people whose time on the planet has coincided with yours and been a gift. Strengthen that gratitude and encouragement by writing about the significance of one of those exemplars, whether famous or known only to you and a few.
DECEMBER 2015: FILLING UP WITH WONDER
At a conference several years ago, I jotted down these words from one of the presenters, author Diane Ackerman: "Wonder is a bulky emotion. If you let it fill your heart and mind there is no room for anything else." I've always loved Ackerman's way with words, and when I rediscovered that quote in my GRACE/WONDER file I was reminded of a recent bayside walk when my worries were swept away by a brilliant display of light and color as the setting sun turned clouds and water pink, orange, and purple. The beauty filled me. My mind settled, my breathing eased. Ackerman's writings emphasize the role of nature in opening us to wonder, but there are many avenues to that spaciousness. Write about a time when you were swept into wonder, and let it fill you again.
At a conference several years ago, I jotted down these words from one of the presenters, author Diane Ackerman: "Wonder is a bulky emotion. If you let it fill your heart and mind there is no room for anything else." I've always loved Ackerman's way with words, and when I rediscovered that quote in my GRACE/WONDER file I was reminded of a recent bayside walk when my worries were swept away by a brilliant display of light and color as the setting sun turned clouds and water pink, orange, and purple. The beauty filled me. My mind settled, my breathing eased. Ackerman's writings emphasize the role of nature in opening us to wonder, but there are many avenues to that spaciousness. Write about a time when you were swept into wonder, and let it fill you again.
NOVEMBER 2015: WHY ARE YOU KEEPING THAT?
In the memoir published shortly before his recent death, neurologist Oliver Sacks wrote, "I started keeping journals when I was fourteen, and at last count had nearly a thousand....My journals are not written for others, nor do I usually look at them myself, but they are a special, indispensable form of talking to myself." He spoke to me as I pondered my bulging file cabinets and wondered if or when I'll be ready to take my own journal pages to the Berkeley papershredders. I started personal writing about the same age as Dr. Sacks, although I have only one journal from high school and one from college. For over twenty years, I've written a single lined-paper page in blue-ink fountain pen each morning, then started a new file folder at each equinox or solstice. Like him, I rarely look back -- but what equanimity I do have comes largely from that practice. What do you do with what you've written? Write about how, when, where you write and how doing so shapes your mind and heart -- and then decide what to do with what you've written.
In the memoir published shortly before his recent death, neurologist Oliver Sacks wrote, "I started keeping journals when I was fourteen, and at last count had nearly a thousand....My journals are not written for others, nor do I usually look at them myself, but they are a special, indispensable form of talking to myself." He spoke to me as I pondered my bulging file cabinets and wondered if or when I'll be ready to take my own journal pages to the Berkeley papershredders. I started personal writing about the same age as Dr. Sacks, although I have only one journal from high school and one from college. For over twenty years, I've written a single lined-paper page in blue-ink fountain pen each morning, then started a new file folder at each equinox or solstice. Like him, I rarely look back -- but what equanimity I do have comes largely from that practice. What do you do with what you've written? Write about how, when, where you write and how doing so shapes your mind and heart -- and then decide what to do with what you've written.
OCTOBER 2015: ENTERING THE WAY-BACK MACHINE
"I know you're going to write about this in your monthly tips," Katie said as we surveyed both the hors d'oeuvre array and the crowd of men and women just our age at our (hard to admit it) 50th high school reunion. I hadn't thought of doing so, but the occasion did yield lots of reflections. Where were the half of the class that didn't come? Were they even more anxious about this occasion than I? Here I am being joyfully greeted by women who wouldn't have spoken to me when we were girls. How do I sum up my adult life and catch up in an authentic way? I don't have any final answers, but my reflections lead me to suggest (thanks, Katie) that it's worth writing about the high-school you and the you of the present. Would you go or have you gone to reunions? What did you learn? How might you offer some healing, perspective, or gratitude to that teenage you that still lives inside?
"I know you're going to write about this in your monthly tips," Katie said as we surveyed both the hors d'oeuvre array and the crowd of men and women just our age at our (hard to admit it) 50th high school reunion. I hadn't thought of doing so, but the occasion did yield lots of reflections. Where were the half of the class that didn't come? Were they even more anxious about this occasion than I? Here I am being joyfully greeted by women who wouldn't have spoken to me when we were girls. How do I sum up my adult life and catch up in an authentic way? I don't have any final answers, but my reflections lead me to suggest (thanks, Katie) that it's worth writing about the high-school you and the you of the present. Would you go or have you gone to reunions? What did you learn? How might you offer some healing, perspective, or gratitude to that teenage you that still lives inside?
SEPTEMBER 2015: WHAT'S MISSING?
We can sharpen our appreciation for the here and now just as well by writing about what is absent as by focusing on what you see, hear, taste, touch, and smell around you. When I lived on my partner's houseboat for eight-plus years, I got to know water intimately -- and I missed trees, big trees lining streets. Now I miss the sound of the midnight train whistling through Jack London Square across the estuary waters. Here and now I have access to every permutation of dark chocolate at my local market, but occasionally I miss the taste of my childhood treat, a Fudgsicle. Maybe they still make them -- but nothing would duplicate the sweetness on my five-year-old tongue and the feel of my father's hand as we walked back home through the dappled shade of the sycamores. And you -- what is missing for you? Write to discover.
We can sharpen our appreciation for the here and now just as well by writing about what is absent as by focusing on what you see, hear, taste, touch, and smell around you. When I lived on my partner's houseboat for eight-plus years, I got to know water intimately -- and I missed trees, big trees lining streets. Now I miss the sound of the midnight train whistling through Jack London Square across the estuary waters. Here and now I have access to every permutation of dark chocolate at my local market, but occasionally I miss the taste of my childhood treat, a Fudgsicle. Maybe they still make them -- but nothing would duplicate the sweetness on my five-year-old tongue and the feel of my father's hand as we walked back home through the dappled shade of the sycamores. And you -- what is missing for you? Write to discover.
AUGUST 2015: THE RIGHT KIND OF FEAR
How I wish I could use my imagination's ability to provide catastrophic what-if scenarios for a better purpose! In the Jewish wisdom tradition, that kind of fear is called pachad and differentiated from a second kind of fear, yirah. Unlike pachad's irrational obsessive worry, yirah induces awe and reverence. According to Tara Mohr in Playing Big, yirah takes us over when we "inhabit a larger space than we are used to, when we suddenly come into possession of considerably more energy than we had before, and when we feel in the presence of the divine." Whether about to speak to a large group or in a private moment of feeling called to action, I've known yirah. Write to describe some experience you've had that combines a breath-intake realization (this is my chance!) with an sense of spaciousness, ignition, and spirit.
How I wish I could use my imagination's ability to provide catastrophic what-if scenarios for a better purpose! In the Jewish wisdom tradition, that kind of fear is called pachad and differentiated from a second kind of fear, yirah. Unlike pachad's irrational obsessive worry, yirah induces awe and reverence. According to Tara Mohr in Playing Big, yirah takes us over when we "inhabit a larger space than we are used to, when we suddenly come into possession of considerably more energy than we had before, and when we feel in the presence of the divine." Whether about to speak to a large group or in a private moment of feeling called to action, I've known yirah. Write to describe some experience you've had that combines a breath-intake realization (this is my chance!) with an sense of spaciousness, ignition, and spirit.
JULY 2015: DARING FROM WITHIN
The slimmest memoir on my shelves is Eudora Welty's One Writer's Beginnings, just 114 pages but luminous with wisdom and great writing. I recently pulled it out to read again her final sentences: "As you have seen, I am a writer who came of a sheltered life. A sheltered life can be a daring life as well. For all serious daring starts from within." The words resonate for me, as I grew up sheltered by privilege and protectiveness but have had to strengthen myself and learn courage. How were you sheltered? Are you still? How did you learn daring? What challenges remain unmet within you? How would you describe your life in Welty's terms? Write whatever stirs in you.
The slimmest memoir on my shelves is Eudora Welty's One Writer's Beginnings, just 114 pages but luminous with wisdom and great writing. I recently pulled it out to read again her final sentences: "As you have seen, I am a writer who came of a sheltered life. A sheltered life can be a daring life as well. For all serious daring starts from within." The words resonate for me, as I grew up sheltered by privilege and protectiveness but have had to strengthen myself and learn courage. How were you sheltered? Are you still? How did you learn daring? What challenges remain unmet within you? How would you describe your life in Welty's terms? Write whatever stirs in you.
JUNE 2015: THE WISDOM OF LETTING GO
Let me introduce and then quote directly from Margaret Wheatley's wonderful book Perseverance. A stressed-out executive got a call from her six-year-old niece at the end of an impossible day when nothing worked as she hoped it would. Telling the little girl it wasn't the best time because of her mood, her niece responded:
"Did you try hard?" "Yes," she replied.
"Did you try really, really hard?"
"Yes I did."
"Well then, said the six year old, "now it's time to go out and play."
Write whatever stirs in you from this wisdom story.
Let me introduce and then quote directly from Margaret Wheatley's wonderful book Perseverance. A stressed-out executive got a call from her six-year-old niece at the end of an impossible day when nothing worked as she hoped it would. Telling the little girl it wasn't the best time because of her mood, her niece responded:
"Did you try hard?" "Yes," she replied.
"Did you try really, really hard?"
"Yes I did."
"Well then, said the six year old, "now it's time to go out and play."
Write whatever stirs in you from this wisdom story.
MAY 2015: THE TRIBE OF THE AMBIGUOUS
In Storycatcher, Christina Baldwin writes, "I find myself thinking that the people with whom I most deeply belong are those who are willing to carry the ambiguity of the age, those who are learning how to manage tension in a heartfelt, spiritually imbued manner. I call us the Tribe of the Ambiguous -- anyone can join, just start noticing." If you were moved to join the Tribe of the Ambiguous, what would be your role within the tribe? How would your gifts contribute? Write up an imagined job title and description for yourself -- Professional Devil's Advocate -- Historian of Outdated Maps -- Herald of Unclothed Emperors? We're all needed.
In Storycatcher, Christina Baldwin writes, "I find myself thinking that the people with whom I most deeply belong are those who are willing to carry the ambiguity of the age, those who are learning how to manage tension in a heartfelt, spiritually imbued manner. I call us the Tribe of the Ambiguous -- anyone can join, just start noticing." If you were moved to join the Tribe of the Ambiguous, what would be your role within the tribe? How would your gifts contribute? Write up an imagined job title and description for yourself -- Professional Devil's Advocate -- Historian of Outdated Maps -- Herald of Unclothed Emperors? We're all needed.
APRIL 2015: JOINERS AND SOLITARIES
Sam Keen writes, "My family moved every year or two, so my brother and I were always outsiders. We were the strange ones, the ready-made enemies of the established gangs, and we spent much of our time playing alone in the woods. Consequently, membership has always been difficult for me, while the virtues and vices of individualism come easily." Did you move often when you were a kid? Is it easy for you to join groups and belong, or do you prefer to go your own way? Write some vivid memories of your experiences of the insider-outsider continuum and how those experiences have shaped you.
Sam Keen writes, "My family moved every year or two, so my brother and I were always outsiders. We were the strange ones, the ready-made enemies of the established gangs, and we spent much of our time playing alone in the woods. Consequently, membership has always been difficult for me, while the virtues and vices of individualism come easily." Did you move often when you were a kid? Is it easy for you to join groups and belong, or do you prefer to go your own way? Write some vivid memories of your experiences of the insider-outsider continuum and how those experiences have shaped you.
MARCH 2015: WHEN "I HATE YOU" MEANS SOMETHING GOOD
My friend and I were rushing through a complicated task when what I suggested turned out to be a better idea than what he'd done. "I hate you," he said breezily, and I felt happy. Am I nuts? No, I have learned, late in life, that there is such a thing as affectionate teasing. Without siblings, I grew up allergic to teasing. It's tricky, and in this age of sensitivity to bullying, teasing can be well-meant but taken badly. In this instance, my friend knows how I love to be right, and he does too. It was a sign of belonging and closeness that he felt free to tease me. Write about your experiences with teasing, both good and bad, both teasing and being teased.
My friend and I were rushing through a complicated task when what I suggested turned out to be a better idea than what he'd done. "I hate you," he said breezily, and I felt happy. Am I nuts? No, I have learned, late in life, that there is such a thing as affectionate teasing. Without siblings, I grew up allergic to teasing. It's tricky, and in this age of sensitivity to bullying, teasing can be well-meant but taken badly. In this instance, my friend knows how I love to be right, and he does too. It was a sign of belonging and closeness that he felt free to tease me. Write about your experiences with teasing, both good and bad, both teasing and being teased.
FEBRUARY 2015: LARGE SCREEN, TECHNICOLOR, DOLBY SOUND
Iconic movie critic Pauline Kael once wrote a book called I Lost It at the Movies, but for me, it's more about what I found at the movies -- comfort, inspiration, thrills, adventure, and most of all escape. It didn't start off well, as the first movie I went to was the classic "Wizard of Oz," and I was so terrified by the first appearance of the Wicked Witch that my dad had to take me out of the theater. But soon I fell in love with the anticipation, the popcorn, and the enchantment of other worlds becoming mine for two hours. We tend to dive into our small screens today and even watch movies there, but how have you been influenced by the big screen? Write about the first movie you ever saw, the scariest or most romantic or most uplifting or most confusing movie. Bring back in words how it feels to sit in a theater and be immersed.
Iconic movie critic Pauline Kael once wrote a book called I Lost It at the Movies, but for me, it's more about what I found at the movies -- comfort, inspiration, thrills, adventure, and most of all escape. It didn't start off well, as the first movie I went to was the classic "Wizard of Oz," and I was so terrified by the first appearance of the Wicked Witch that my dad had to take me out of the theater. But soon I fell in love with the anticipation, the popcorn, and the enchantment of other worlds becoming mine for two hours. We tend to dive into our small screens today and even watch movies there, but how have you been influenced by the big screen? Write about the first movie you ever saw, the scariest or most romantic or most uplifting or most confusing movie. Bring back in words how it feels to sit in a theater and be immersed.
JANUARY 2015: LET A PHOTO SPEAK THROUGH YOU
An award-winning photographer recommends using the camera on your phone to wake up your creativity and spirit. He suggests going out in your immediate neighborhood and taking 10 photos of previously unnoticed things. You might notice, for instance, how one broken board in a fence lets you see into a neighbor's garden. Take a photo and move on. Later, study the photos, choose the one that you keep coming back to, and start writing about one detail within it. Maybe the glimpse of the neighbor's yard reminds you of your childhood loved book, The Secret Garden. Let a memory or imagined story unfold to freshen your outlook this day.
An award-winning photographer recommends using the camera on your phone to wake up your creativity and spirit. He suggests going out in your immediate neighborhood and taking 10 photos of previously unnoticed things. You might notice, for instance, how one broken board in a fence lets you see into a neighbor's garden. Take a photo and move on. Later, study the photos, choose the one that you keep coming back to, and start writing about one detail within it. Maybe the glimpse of the neighbor's yard reminds you of your childhood loved book, The Secret Garden. Let a memory or imagined story unfold to freshen your outlook this day.
DECEMBER 2014: HIDDEN IN PLAIN SITE
I hear them from a block away on my afternoon walk. Not the clamoring geese that seem as abundant as the seagulls here by San Francisco Bay -- these are tiny birds, but incredibly loud. Many of the trees along this shoreline street have lost leaves for the winter, but one tree has leaves, berries, and surely a thousand birds. Well, maybe a hundred. But even though I stop and peer through the leaves from all sides, I see none of them. I walk on, the chirping fading, and muse about things hidden in plain sight. During this season when decorations, advertisements, and invitations to be busy abound, step aside and notice some things hidden in plain sight in your neighborhood, workplace, or even the mall. Look for, then store up and later write about the subtle, the usually overlooked: that expression on your colleague's face when he thinks no one's looking, the stranger staring at the sunset from her parked car, the book you meant to read, the unheard elements in your daily soundscape.
I hear them from a block away on my afternoon walk. Not the clamoring geese that seem as abundant as the seagulls here by San Francisco Bay -- these are tiny birds, but incredibly loud. Many of the trees along this shoreline street have lost leaves for the winter, but one tree has leaves, berries, and surely a thousand birds. Well, maybe a hundred. But even though I stop and peer through the leaves from all sides, I see none of them. I walk on, the chirping fading, and muse about things hidden in plain sight. During this season when decorations, advertisements, and invitations to be busy abound, step aside and notice some things hidden in plain sight in your neighborhood, workplace, or even the mall. Look for, then store up and later write about the subtle, the usually overlooked: that expression on your colleague's face when he thinks no one's looking, the stranger staring at the sunset from her parked car, the book you meant to read, the unheard elements in your daily soundscape.
NOVEMBER 2014: ARE YOU A FAN?
Whether or not the San Francisco Giants win baseball's World Series (in progress as I write), I am a fan. I was brought up to be one by my dad, who loved "sports voices," both the journalists whose tight, energetic prose he'd read aloud to me over breakfast and the sonorous tones of Lon Simmons and Russ Hodges calling Giants' games on the radio. I had a great-aunt who would only appear at family gatherings during baseball season if she could have a transistor radio plugged into one ear. Some people aren't sports fans, but they follow musicians, artists, writers, or comedians with the same utter devotion. Write about fandom, yours if you are one or how foreign it seems if you just don't get it.
Whether or not the San Francisco Giants win baseball's World Series (in progress as I write), I am a fan. I was brought up to be one by my dad, who loved "sports voices," both the journalists whose tight, energetic prose he'd read aloud to me over breakfast and the sonorous tones of Lon Simmons and Russ Hodges calling Giants' games on the radio. I had a great-aunt who would only appear at family gatherings during baseball season if she could have a transistor radio plugged into one ear. Some people aren't sports fans, but they follow musicians, artists, writers, or comedians with the same utter devotion. Write about fandom, yours if you are one or how foreign it seems if you just don't get it.
OCTOBER 2014: TURNING AROUND THE MIRROR OF ADMIRATION
Having recently watched Ken Burns' new documentary on the Roosevelt family, I was reminded that Eleanor Roosevelt has always been one of my heroes. Here's an exercise to explore your preconceptions about the heroes you revere. List three favorite heroes you have admired over a long period of time. These might be storybook heroes or mentors or public figures or people you’ve met during your life. Now examine and list their key characteristics (boldness, kindness, humility, for example). Now imagine that you had to attach these characteristics to your self-description. Which would be hardest to own? Which would be easiest? What have you learned from this process?
Having recently watched Ken Burns' new documentary on the Roosevelt family, I was reminded that Eleanor Roosevelt has always been one of my heroes. Here's an exercise to explore your preconceptions about the heroes you revere. List three favorite heroes you have admired over a long period of time. These might be storybook heroes or mentors or public figures or people you’ve met during your life. Now examine and list their key characteristics (boldness, kindness, humility, for example). Now imagine that you had to attach these characteristics to your self-description. Which would be hardest to own? Which would be easiest? What have you learned from this process?
SEPTEMBER 2014: LET IT FADE
If you find yourself dwelling on an experience that made you angry or hurt, you might tell yourself, Just let it go -- but have no idea how to do that. Here's a very practical 3-step technique from master therapist and author Steve Andreas: First, imagine the hurtful or infuriating person or situation again, but this time, notice where you see this in your mind, along with the size, vividness, color, distance, and sound associated with the person or situation. Chances are it's front and center in your mental field. Next, imagine that you're a cinematographer, and you can film that image receding 15 feet away from you and off to the side, becoming smaller and faded in color. Finally, rehearse this mental adjustment: Bring the person or situation to mind, and become the camera operator: let it move away, off to the side, and fade. With practice, the experience can lose its emotional charge. Nothing to lose -- give it a try.
AUGUST 2014: FRUITS OF THE SEASON
The tall, dignified man and I reached for the same tomato in the bin, pulled back our hands, laughed awkwardly. "I wait all year for these," he remarked to the air above my head. "I know what you mean," I said, looking past him at the mandarin oranges from Chile. Odoriko tomatoes are a particularly luscious variety with pinkish-red skin and juicy sweet-tart flesh. No wonder the man and I were shy with one another: the fruits of the season that we wait for are so desirable that just smelling and touching them is erotic. Write a passage of praise about the food that you wait all year for and eat with joy. It might require a whole ritual of preparing with others, like that Thanksgiving feast, or it might be as private as the peach you eat over the sink, closing your eyes. Savoring is as necessary to daily life as are the calories we burn while living it, and in writing about it, we savor twice.
JULY 2014: EVERYBODY HAS A RESCUE STORY
"Is this your dog?" asked the lean young man in a wetsuit. Just out for my afternoon beachside walk, I looked at the sand-colored pug in his arms and shook my head. "I got it out of the traffic, but my board's still on the beach," he said, as I started to walk away. What could I do? I took the dog, called the number on the tag -- disconnected, no forwarding number. Walked down the first street to my left, panting pug following me contentedly. Flagged down a driver who said she was a teacher, didn't live in the neighborhood but just dropped off her student who lived in that pink house. Rang the bell, held up the dog to the stocky teen who smiled and said "Buttercup!" Happy kid, happy dog, happy me. When have you performed some kind of rescue operation? Take your time and fill in all the details I didn't have space for in my story. Write to recapture what it feels like to have made a difference.
JUNE 2014: WRITE YOURSELF OUT OF A MOOD
In James Hollis' book, Finding Meaning in the Second Half of Life, he distinguishes helpful between emotion, feeling, and mood. "An emotion is a neurological discharge of energy. A feeling is created when that energy passes through our psychic filter and takes on enough power to possess the ego. A mood is a feeling state that, often unconscious, has pooled up, and has the power to occupy the ego for a prolonged length of time." Those moods! How they do preoccupy us -- anxious moods, discouraged moods, resentful moods. A good mood, a cheerful mood, no problem. But for the others, try this: When you find yourself in some kind of bad mood, imagine that a pipe has burst in your inner home. Sludgy fluid has come out of the pipe and pooled all around you. You may not be in danger of drowning from it, but it surely is unpleasantly smelly, cold, and damaging. Describe in writing what it's like to be standing in ankle-deep or wading in knee-deep effluent, and go on to describe what you do to clear it out and restore a clean, clear inner space. You can write yourself out of a mood just as well as you can convince yourself into one.
MAY 2014: YOUR OWN TINKERING STUDIO
Are you a tinkerer? I wondered about that for myself when hearing about an exhibit at the Exploratorium in San Francisco, a self-described "learning laboratory" where visitors encounter science, technology, biology, and engineering in creative, hands-on projects and experiences. Two visionaries run the Exploratorium's Tinkering Studio where you can play around with materials with no aim other than curiosity. How are you a tinkerer? I tinker with words, seeing if I can make them reflect a truth my body recognizes. I also tinker with ingredients when I cook: What would a little cumin add to this soup? Write about the areas in your own life where you allow yourself to play and experiment without concern for "success." If you don't find any area, what might you try out? If you live nearby, visit the Exploratorium for inspiration.
APRIL 2014: LIFE ON FAST FORWARD OR PAUSE
The 13th century poet Wu-Men wrote, "If your mind isn’t clouded by unnecessary things, this is the best season of your life." Even when our minds are unclouded, we experience time as elastic. "I missed your daffodils," a friend exclaimed when she hadn't been by my place in a month that zipped by. "I've given up on spring coming this year," declared a coaching client in the frozen upper Midwest when I asked how he's dealing with single-digit temperatures for weeks. Try writing some reflections on these three questions: When did a week go way too fast for you? When did a different week seem like it would last forever? How might this week be "the best season of your life"?
Check back here at the first of each month for a new writing exercise.
If you find yourself dwelling on an experience that made you angry or hurt, you might tell yourself, Just let it go -- but have no idea how to do that. Here's a very practical 3-step technique from master therapist and author Steve Andreas: First, imagine the hurtful or infuriating person or situation again, but this time, notice where you see this in your mind, along with the size, vividness, color, distance, and sound associated with the person or situation. Chances are it's front and center in your mental field. Next, imagine that you're a cinematographer, and you can film that image receding 15 feet away from you and off to the side, becoming smaller and faded in color. Finally, rehearse this mental adjustment: Bring the person or situation to mind, and become the camera operator: let it move away, off to the side, and fade. With practice, the experience can lose its emotional charge. Nothing to lose -- give it a try.
AUGUST 2014: FRUITS OF THE SEASON
The tall, dignified man and I reached for the same tomato in the bin, pulled back our hands, laughed awkwardly. "I wait all year for these," he remarked to the air above my head. "I know what you mean," I said, looking past him at the mandarin oranges from Chile. Odoriko tomatoes are a particularly luscious variety with pinkish-red skin and juicy sweet-tart flesh. No wonder the man and I were shy with one another: the fruits of the season that we wait for are so desirable that just smelling and touching them is erotic. Write a passage of praise about the food that you wait all year for and eat with joy. It might require a whole ritual of preparing with others, like that Thanksgiving feast, or it might be as private as the peach you eat over the sink, closing your eyes. Savoring is as necessary to daily life as are the calories we burn while living it, and in writing about it, we savor twice.
JULY 2014: EVERYBODY HAS A RESCUE STORY
"Is this your dog?" asked the lean young man in a wetsuit. Just out for my afternoon beachside walk, I looked at the sand-colored pug in his arms and shook my head. "I got it out of the traffic, but my board's still on the beach," he said, as I started to walk away. What could I do? I took the dog, called the number on the tag -- disconnected, no forwarding number. Walked down the first street to my left, panting pug following me contentedly. Flagged down a driver who said she was a teacher, didn't live in the neighborhood but just dropped off her student who lived in that pink house. Rang the bell, held up the dog to the stocky teen who smiled and said "Buttercup!" Happy kid, happy dog, happy me. When have you performed some kind of rescue operation? Take your time and fill in all the details I didn't have space for in my story. Write to recapture what it feels like to have made a difference.
JUNE 2014: WRITE YOURSELF OUT OF A MOOD
In James Hollis' book, Finding Meaning in the Second Half of Life, he distinguishes helpful between emotion, feeling, and mood. "An emotion is a neurological discharge of energy. A feeling is created when that energy passes through our psychic filter and takes on enough power to possess the ego. A mood is a feeling state that, often unconscious, has pooled up, and has the power to occupy the ego for a prolonged length of time." Those moods! How they do preoccupy us -- anxious moods, discouraged moods, resentful moods. A good mood, a cheerful mood, no problem. But for the others, try this: When you find yourself in some kind of bad mood, imagine that a pipe has burst in your inner home. Sludgy fluid has come out of the pipe and pooled all around you. You may not be in danger of drowning from it, but it surely is unpleasantly smelly, cold, and damaging. Describe in writing what it's like to be standing in ankle-deep or wading in knee-deep effluent, and go on to describe what you do to clear it out and restore a clean, clear inner space. You can write yourself out of a mood just as well as you can convince yourself into one.
MAY 2014: YOUR OWN TINKERING STUDIO
Are you a tinkerer? I wondered about that for myself when hearing about an exhibit at the Exploratorium in San Francisco, a self-described "learning laboratory" where visitors encounter science, technology, biology, and engineering in creative, hands-on projects and experiences. Two visionaries run the Exploratorium's Tinkering Studio where you can play around with materials with no aim other than curiosity. How are you a tinkerer? I tinker with words, seeing if I can make them reflect a truth my body recognizes. I also tinker with ingredients when I cook: What would a little cumin add to this soup? Write about the areas in your own life where you allow yourself to play and experiment without concern for "success." If you don't find any area, what might you try out? If you live nearby, visit the Exploratorium for inspiration.
APRIL 2014: LIFE ON FAST FORWARD OR PAUSE
The 13th century poet Wu-Men wrote, "If your mind isn’t clouded by unnecessary things, this is the best season of your life." Even when our minds are unclouded, we experience time as elastic. "I missed your daffodils," a friend exclaimed when she hadn't been by my place in a month that zipped by. "I've given up on spring coming this year," declared a coaching client in the frozen upper Midwest when I asked how he's dealing with single-digit temperatures for weeks. Try writing some reflections on these three questions: When did a week go way too fast for you? When did a different week seem like it would last forever? How might this week be "the best season of your life"?
Check back here at the first of each month for a new writing exercise.