Category Archives: Balance

When you fall down, break your routine, or stop writing: notes on re-starting.

HEADER GRAPHIC TEMPLATE—WRITING

The rhythm breaks. The routine falters.

You write, so diligently, and then a week slips by.

Getting back into the structure of things — writing — is even more challenging when traveling, moving, changing.

I can make a million excuses; writing and making time for writing is and always seems so hard.

It's easier when I'm already making. When I'm on the train that's already moving, it can be easier to keep going. And then I slip. My eyes wander up and left, I slip outside for a drink, I stop in the sunshine, I caress the thought of taking a break, and—

—Days go by. The procrastination wears down, like water through a crevice, building its rut and smoothing the sides into familiar curves with its constant trickle.

The weight of the days adds up, as though each day has its own weight, compounding over time.

Dread hangs over until the shadow of not doing spooks me in the morning, haunts me inside of the bags underneath my eyes. The sheer weight of not doing makes me so tired and that fear and dread build up, and I even start to doubt; I believe that I’m too tired; that tomorrow will be an easier, better day, that writing will somehow become more magical and effortless if I just wait.

The truth is, the one that I learn only by doing, is sometimes one sentence and one foot in front of the other, a shuffle-step, a trip, even — Sometimes sentences are written underfoot, scribbling out while running — the truth really is, that if I only just start, if I sigh and press open that sheet, tricking myself into making something so tiny I can't help but just inch it out; when I make a small piece and massage it a bit, play out a word, dedicate a paragraph to the morning and a few more notes to the day;

The truth is, the hardest part is starting.

The gaping mountainous space that is not having started, with the weight of all the days piled up on top of each other like the exploding laundry piles of a pair of triplets, that space—that space is the one that can be popped like a balloon, a whistle of air sadly escaping out as a small sigh, only, only, only if you dare to jump, to pop the weight of the invisible balloon, to recognize that starting is always as hard as it’s ever been, and the hardest thing you do, will be to start.

Starting my pages is like an exercise in watching my crazy brain dart and monkey around — all the things I must do! Lists and busy-work become important, tasks and to-do's building up alongside corners of pages, papers stacked several sheets high across the expansive desk space that is, for all purposes, meant for writing. I must make a new batch of tea! And i’ll try a green juice! Perhaps the internet will have the answers! I will Facebook like everything in sight because ALL OF THESE LIKE HAVE MEANING! I am connecting! I am powerful! I am!

And the answer is, after three hours of puttering, anxiety building in my stomach like a lining of acid swelling across my belly, I get so mad and frustrated that I shout, I MUST go for a run, I will RUN, then, then, you will SEE.

And a small piece of my mind thinks to me, you can't afford to run, so, well, just write a couple of sentences before you go, and then of course, you will go for a run, and of course, that will help.

And then I sit at the desk, legs twisted to the left, shoes half-on, one sock on the floor, and finally open the document — my intent to start writing as soon as I get back, and then the document that is still blank bursts open on my screen, white terribleness blasting me with my procrastination; I stare at the pages that are empty, and with one hand on my shoe, I scribble and scratch out the thesis and the questions I’m going to be answering when I get back. I'm not writing, see, I'm running.

Lists and notes come out, and then my foot rotates and slides under my chair, and I’m jumbling in it, sports bra and keyboard, pouring, pouring, — well, I’ll just talk about this one thing, I start to say, but that story in the paragraph builds into a third, or a fourth, and I look up and the clock has spun around a few times far too quickly, and the sun’s down already, and I'm still in my underwear from taking off my pants to go for a run, but in between pants off and shorts on, I sat down to type, and the typing exploded, a story wielding it’s way on the page, long words and excessive ramblings wrapping around neatly in the shiny way that digital files do, and I'm hungry.

I'm hungry.

The sun's down again. It's dark.

On the days when I have to begin again, on the days when it’s been far too many days in between, and I haven’t written in too long, I know that the most important thing is just the dump of words.

The writing will not be good — it rarely is on the first time, and especially not on the first day back, but the second or third day after greasing the word wheel with an onslaught of words, it gets smoother and easier in a way that’s unexpected.

It’s like the first day is a rinse of my brain with a writer’s neti-pot, the morning pages and the first thousand words a clearing of the clutter, a draining and sweeping of the cobwebs in my brain. Snot-clearing pages, I describe them to my writing classes. Just get the snot out, blow your nose, suspend judgment and don't look inside too closely at those boogers!

It’s like the pile of words that drains out is mucus that stuck up my brain, and those morning pages are blowing my brain's nose. The next day, when the morning pages have been written a second time, I can sit down and my mind is much more connected to the page, to the words at hand.

Starting is hard.

Come back in, however you can.

“You can have everything you want.” But also: “You will never be enough.” Two cultural themes that need to be reconfigured.

Are we being taught to want everything and never be happy with anything that we get? Why these two cultural mindsets don’t serve us–and how pervasive they are in our everyday lives.Continue Reading

When is the right time to make change? The changing of seasons is the perfect time to re-fresh and re-invest.

When is the best time to make change? The shifting seasons are a perfect time to reflect on your year, create new intentions, and let go of past problems. It’s time to start clean, and embrace the next phase of growth.Continue Reading

Morning and evening meditations and reflections: two books I love to open any time, any page.

What are you filling your mind with? What are you musing upon, reflecting on, what things are you considering today? Sometimes when I get wrapped up in the throes of launching a new project, or just simply taking on too many projects, I don’t quite find I have enough time to sit leisurely and readContinue Reading

Start where you are.

Where are you? Just a few weeks ago: I’m sitting on the floor of an empty studio, barefoot, with not a piece of furniture in it. Boxes line the hallways and two giant moving trucks are parked out in the street. Every so often our dogs bark, whining about being pent up in the back.Continue Reading

Good, fine, busy.

When someone asks you how you are, do you answer in one of the following three ways? I’m good! I’m fine. Ohhh, Busy. Imagine eliminating those three words. What would you say instead? How would you respond? Inspired in part by a sign on my wall, and a 2003 post by Penelope Trunk called “StopContinue Reading

Just One

What would just one of something look like? Not a diversity of items, but a simplicity of things. A specificity, a selection, and a deliberate choice between several? Not three workout programs, but just one workout program. Not seven yoga mats or towels, but just one. Not eight new dresses or blouses, but just one. YourContinue Reading

What’s On Your Mind?

“We’re not here, for that long, anyway. But to spend almost half our time lost in thought, and for the most part unhappy at that–well that’s pretty tragic, isn’t it?” — Andy Puddicombe How does your mind work? What brought you here? What patterns occupy your thoughts and recur, repeatedly? Andy Puddicombe talks about theContinue Reading

2013: Lessons to Take With Me

Part two of my annual round-up. For part one, check out my annual review for 2012.  The last year, or two, weren’t easy–and full of lots of mistakes–but incredible and far better than the first half of my twenties. I’ve mused lately, in my 29th year, what this decade will add up to. What have IContinue ReadingContinue Reading

Building Something Bigger (And a Peek Behind The Curtain): My Monthly Review

It’s the end of the month (Happy Halloween!) and I’m sitting down to do my monthly review–which happens as close to the 30th as I can get each month, give or take a couple of days depending on my schedule and deadlines. I find that I like to check-in on the 30th to see how thingsContinue ReadingContinue Reading