Plunging In (September Theme by Naomi Kinsman)

To be honest, I haven't been very habitual about writing lately. In all fairness, I've been working on launching fall classes with Society of Young Inklings, which is newly a nonprofit and I've had to be responsible and level headed and detail oriented. My desk is covered with notes to self and checklists and tasks. It's hard, in such a space, to be creative--at least it is for me.

It's a tough brain shift for me, from the tight control required to not lose track of the tiniest of details, to the very open roaming space required to draft a new book. I'm positive I can do it, though. In my previous work in the theatre, I had to do it all the time, shifting from the very creative task of blocking a scene to managing the list of costume and set tasks. We all went from creative mind-space to detail mind-space and back again. Maybe what made that leap possible was the changing setting. We'd go into the theatre and spend an hour working a scene. Then, we'd go into the office and sit with our checklists and computers. Maybe I can't expect myself to sit at my checklist-desk and try to enter my mind's creative playground with my email pinging every thirty seconds reminding me not to forget this or that.

Even though it's been easiest in this season to just give myself over to the administrative details, knowing that we're providing opportunities for young writers to have this adventurous experience that I love so much, perhaps that inner voice inside my heart that shouts that "it's just not fair!" must be heard. Making room for others to do the thing you love isn't at all the same as doing it yourself. And for writers, not writing is one of those sneaky diseases that pounces all of a sudden when least expected and causes a full-brain melt-down. This problem, again, may be unique to me, but I suspect it isn't. We can probably count on the fact that if I sink into full-brain melt-down mode, the details will all be lost. So, that's why I'm committing, publicly, to plunge in. It's not a convenient time to be purposeful about writing every day. It's not going to be easy at all. I'll probably have to take my laptop into some dark corner where I can't see any of the other things scattered around calling for my attention. I may even have to write on paper. It will be worth it, though, won't it? To bring back the writing habit and soothe that creative energy that just refuses to be ignored, to be myself, even in the midst of all the details?

I'd say so. They say it takes 30 consecutive days to build a habit. The habit I'm committing to is every-day writing, even if it's just for 20 minutes a day. It's certainly not enough, but it's a start, and it means that for at least 20 minutes every day, I will be being the real and true me. I feel relieved just typing the commitment out and seeing it on my screen. So here goes. Wish me luck.

photo credit: cmaccubbin via photopin cc


  1. Good luck! I start to get antsy when I don't write, so I think you are making a healthy choice.

  2. I know EXACTLY what you mean about being the real you, Naomi! GOOD LUCK!

  3. 30 days to build a habit. Hmmm.... I may take the plunge myself and get back to word dancing... or at least word walking. ty for the push!


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