Returning, At Last

 

When you are not writing, you are a writer, too.

-Natalie Goldberg-

I haven't posted on here in three months, and it was starting to wear on me. Oh, I had excuses. The month of May was very busy, and then I traveled in June and July. I had major work done hurricane-proofing my house. I even sometimes wrote something in my journal in the morning and said I would post it, but somehow never did.

In the past couple of weeks it started to bother me. Why aren't I writing? Why don't I make time? Why am I not giving attention to something I love so much?

I spent time really delving into it and came to a strange conclusion: I no longer feel like I'm seeing the world as a writer. In the past, depending on what was happening, something inside me would say WRITE IT. And I would. Or I would commit myself to a project of some sort, and find myself following through in many (not all) cases. I think the feeling I wasn't looking at the world with writer's eyes bothered me more than anything else. My conclusion: I NEED SANIBEL ISLAND WRITERS CONFERENCE. Honestly, those days on the island used to feed me for an entire year. And now it's been longer than I dare to think, and there has been nothing available like it to take its place.

Perhaps I should read back through a lot of my writing, get inspiration that way? Wow, cool idea, but time-consuming. I never made any kind of clear decision on proceeding on that. I guess I just figured that I would be led back to it, gently prodded in that direction, when the time was right.

And that is what has happened.

It began a few days after my recognition of the problem and the frustration I felt. I was getting ready for bed when my niece Cheryl, a writer in Ohio, sent a text about a free week long writers conference in Cleveland this September. It has a virtual component, and that is why she thought of me. The group putting it on is called Inkubator, and I've signed up now for three virtual workshops.

Okay...that was number one in the "gently prodding" direction. But not enough to get me here.

Then I wandered into Barnes and Noble on a Saturday after attending a peaceful protest. There I met a fisherman and writer who was autographing his book A Flicker in the Water. I spoke with him a bit, and even told him, hey, I've been trying to get back to writing. Maybe your book will inspire me.

That was number two.

Then today my friend Debbie texted me. She has been missing me as her buddy teacher at Cypress Middle, and told me that the team was talking about teaching more poetry. They all agreed I should come in and teach a few sessions. 

That was IT. I felt this flame light up inside me, much like the flame on the gas stove in my parents' house. Turn the dial and whoosh, there was the blue flame flickering strong in front of you. Seriously. Exactly like that.

And I knew today was the day to return to howling noiselessly here. 

In her book on writing, Wild Mind, Natalie Goldberg says:

I tell my students you can't plant a grass seed and then stick your finger in the seed 

and yank out a blade of grass. It doesn't work like that. We have to be patient 

to let the blade of grass grow. It takes many elements: sun, cloud, earth, insects, seed. 

This is true in writing, too.

So raise a glass to the writers, whether they are writing or not.

Hooray for nieces, or any family member, who sends a text at the exact right moment.

Let's celebrate everyone who gets their books in print and 

puts themselves on the line to market it.

Hooray for teachers and friends who believe in the power of poetry.

Let's cheer allowing things to happen in their own time.

Here is to Divine Order.

Here is to faith,

Belief,

And the Joy that follows.

💓💓💓