What one practice has changed my life?

I’ve been on a journey of self-discovery since practically forever.  I don’t know if this is normal for everyone, but I’ve learned it’s normal for me.  I’m constantly trying to learn more about myself, and improve on myself.  Over the years, I’ve tried lots of different things.  Most have only fleeting success if any.  However, there’s been one thing that has had strong success with me and stuck around to become a part of who I am.

A year ago, I started writing again. However, this time I did something different.  Somewhat by accident, I discovered the idea of “morning pages,” which was originally coined by Julia Cameron in The Artist’s Way.  As a full disclaimer, I’ve yet to actually read the book… but I’ve since seen the idea of morning pages talked about and summarised in any number of places.

In my case, I came across the idea of morning pages on a website called 750words.com and it has been this that has changed my life.  I’ve written about this before, so I’m going to try to outline here what has been most helpful for me, that is different from what I’ve done before, and also different (for me) from previous attempts at journaling, which have never taken. 

It’s Private

This was a hard one for me to get my head around.  The website 750words is designed so that there is no way to share your writing.  It’s the only website I’ve found like that.  There are blog sites that let you make your blog private, but that’s not the default, and often it’s assumed that even a private blog will have a password so you can share with others.  Similarly, when I journalled in the past, I always had this vague notion of someone someday finding my journals and reading them… be that my children, or some stranger in some other time.  Anne Frank has a lot to answer for in this regard… I am strangely fascinated by journals from the past, and every time I’ve journalled in the past, even about completely mundane aspects of life, I’ve had deep down thoughts of “when this is found some day in the future…” 

Writing for yourself, in a medium that is by it’s very nature private and never intended to be read by anyone else, is a different beast entirely.  It took me some time to get my head around.  There’s a freedom with this, once you get used to it.  You can write about terrifying thoughts and work them out.  You can write things that may be offensive to someone if they were going to read them… because they’re not.  You can write about your deep dark secrets without worry of someone finding out about them.  

I grew up as a reader, and as such, I’ve always had some reader in mind when writing.  Writing on 750words is the first time I’ve written for no audience.  It’s incredibly freeing once you shake off the imaginary person over your shoulder. 

It’s a Brain-Dump 

This is closely linked with the above but deserves to stand on its own as well.  Morning pages, and how I use 750words.com is stream-of-consciousness writing.  It’s literally everything going through my brain.  Sometimes that’s ugly.  Sometimes it’s a run-down of things I’ve done that day.  Sometimes (like when I write first thing in the morning) it contains a lot of complaining about how tired I am and how I’d rather be sleeping.  The point is that it acknowledges each thought that crosses my mind and deals to it by writing it down, without judgement, and sometimes without comment.  My mind is an incredibly noisy place nearly all of the time. Writing this way calms the chaos simply by being able to ‘get rid’ of the thoughts as they occur by writing them down.   

Despite the name “morning pages”, I haven’t always done my daily writing in the morning. I’ve had solid runs where I did my writing as my first step of my nightly routine.  Doing the writing at night is handy because it allows me time to process all the thoughts and events that have happened during the day, and get them out of my head before sleep.  

However, I have found over the course of this past year that I do best when I do my writing in the morning.  There are several reasons for this.  Firstly, I am not at all a morning person… it was challenging for me to add this to my morning routine, not the least of which is because it made me have to get up earlier.  Previously, I’ve avoided anything that requires getting up earlier.  Counterintuitively, though, the process of writing has also caused me to change this and now I get up over an hour earlier than I used to, despite the fact that the actual writing only takes me roughly 15 minutes.  In the work that comes with the writing, I’ve noticed I’m at my best when I have a slow and gradual morning routine that allows me plenty of time to change states from sleep to wakefulness to ready to face the world.  I only came to that conclusion when contemplating my weekend routines and how different they were to my roll-out-bed and out the door routine of the workdays, where I allowed myself to sleep as long as physically possible whilst still being at work on time.  Now I recognise the importance of getting up earlier and honouring the whole process with the time it deserves.  Lastly, I prefer writing in the morning because I aim to do it daily, and the anxiety I carry with me through the day of needing to remember to do the writing before bed builds up.  If I write first thing in the morning, it’s an immediate thing I can mark off my to-do list, and starts the day with me feeling accomplished, as well as having done some mental processing of everything on my mind. 

It’s Unedited

Self-editing is a huge hamper to writing.  This is true for all kinds of writing, I believe, but particularly true of stream-of-consciousness writing.  Being able to write without worrying about the best wording, or the correct grammar or spelling, but just getting the ideas out, is hugely freeing.  I’ve taken this largely into my other writing (fiction, blogs, whatever) as well.  A rough draft is not the time for editing – that’s literally why editing comes later in the process.  When we try to edit as we write, we kill the flow, but we also become hyper-self-critical and that impedes the whole process.  Don’t kill the flow, and don’t edit as you write, particularly daily brain dump writing. 

It’s Healing

Today I learned of the studies done by James Pennebaker, which has shown that writing about traumatic or emotional experiences increases wellbeing and physical health.  This aspect is the added bonus for me, but also the reason I now make my “morning pages” a priority.  When I’ve written about an experience, not only do I get those thoughts out of my mind and deal with them, but also I am able to re-examine them when I need to, and look at things more objectively.  I find for the really hard aspects that I’m dealing with, I often end up focussing on them for three to four, sometimes more, days of writing.  If this were a blog or even a journal I’d probably prevent myself from doing that, for fear of repeating myself or “boring the reader”.  When the only objective is to write to get things out of my head, however, it doesn’t matter if I’m on the same rant I’ve ranted about many times before.  It doesn’t matter if I end up crying over the same material I’ve shed tears over before.  The act of writing allows me to process, and it allows me to examine things that I do in my life that are helping and things that aren’t helping.  To be honest, lots of times the repetition is necessary.  It’s the times when I’ve found myself on the same sticking point, again, that I’m prompted to consider whether things have to be the way they are.  Is there something I can change to stop myself from ending up in the same place?  Do I have agency in the situation, or am I best to simply work on getting it all out until there is no more left to come? 

Until today, I was unaware that there have been studies done on the effectiveness of writing this way.  Yet in my own life, I’d already found it hugely effective.  

In conclusion, I firmly believe that some form of daily writing exercise is useful for anyone and everyone.  Using 750words.com works for me, largely because I now am a faster typer than I am writing by hand, and I worry about journals I write being found by someone, intentionally or otherwise.  That said, there’s nothing against working on paper, and I know that Julia Cameron in The Artist’s Way specifically advocates for writing longhand on paper.  Each to their own.  Regardless, if you’ve made it this far in reading about the process, you owe it to yourself to also give it a try.  Aim to make judgement-free writing a daily practise – but don’t get so hung up on the ‘daily’ part that you chuck it all in if you miss a day.  You never know… it may end up changing your life.  

When I grow up…

I’m 37 years old, and I still feel like I’m growing up – not quite an adult yet. I (with my husband) own a house, have five kids, a full time job, animals, and the long list of responsibilities that comes with all of this… and yet I still don’t feel fully adult.

That is not to say, however, that I feel full of youth-like excitement or wonder. I wish that was the case. No, I have seemingly none of that natural exuberance, but instead all of the worry and self-doubt and trying to figure out who the hell I actually am, anyway. After all… what do I want to be when I grow up?

I’ve started blogs any number of times… I’ve actually lost count now. WordPress has about five registered to my main account, I’ve had another couple with Blogger, and a mostly private one as well. I enjoy writing, but I can’t seem to keep up the habit. “I want to be a writer when I grow up”, I used to say. I’ve been thinking on this part a lot lately because, of course, to most, I am grown up. I’m closer to 40 than 30. I started a quarter-life crisis around 30 that I haven’t quite finished the better part of a decade later. But, here I go. I’ll start again.

I’d convinced myself I’d start like I usually do – figure out a new blog theme, come up with a name I’m at least moderately happy with, maybe even attach it to a domain name. After an hour or so lost down that rabbit hole, I realised that this is what I do… but this is ridiculous. I have a main, “general purpose” blog that’s here, sitting mostly unused. It’s mine. It’s been there for… awhile. And it’s me as much as anything is. Some of the earliest writings on it are cringey. Others, I started writing primarily for an audience. Mainly for my family to read, a little in the practise of keeping me writing, and always with the dreams of going bigger. Bloggers can become famous, after all. My writing could some day be “discovered” like a random teenage girl in a mall, who “just happens” to be spotted by a talent agent who recognises the next big thing. But of course, all of this amounts to one large excuse, to pile on top of the ever growing list of excuses of why I don’t write. Pressure from myself is one thing. Pressure from an invisible audience is entirely another.

Don’t get me wrong, I actually really love the idea of an audience. In fact, in my previous attempts at keeping journals never quite succeeded as a daily habit… (There’s been many. Pretty notebooks with fancy paper for me to write my daily thoughts in, plain utilitarian notebooks for me to keep a record of the daily happenings. Journalling life events. Journalling thoughts. Writing for the sake of writing, and after all, maybe one day my kids, or their kids, would read it…. and I’d be immortalised. Anyway.)

When I was a kid, I wanted to be a writer. Also, my mother used to inform me, a McDonalds worker, a ballerina, a hair stylist, a teacher, an artist. But a writer was one of my main goals, the most consistent. Really, I wanted to write books, novels, because novels were my first best friends and my first love affairs and they were always with me in a way that no one or no thing else ever was. I wanted to create them for other people, too. Yet, when I expressed this through the years, I got told that could be a great thing to do… on the side. Maybe it’ll happen. “That’s nice, but…”. Clearly, being a writer wasn’t a real job – not the kind that put food on the table and provided a regular income. So I looked into ways of still using my love of word craft to pay bills – freelance non-fiction writing. Journalism. Technical writing. My highschool years were spent doing career reports on “real” careers that involved writing but also a somewhat more predictable income. To be fair, the stats on all those jobs were fairly poor as well. Low-paying. Hit-and-miss work. It was the “gig economy” before the “gig economy” was a thing. I could live with not being rich. Could I live with not being a writer?

In the end, I have. I went to University with unspecified goals, had kids, still trying to figure out what I wanted to be. I still enjoyed the idea of being an writer… but I never wrote. I spent so much time, up til now even, figuring that “I’d get around to that…” that I haven’t.

Now, I’m a high school English teacher. One of the things I try to do is teach kids how to write – at least well enough to hold their own.

And I’m still not writing, myself.

So today, I’m trying to change that. By restarting my writing habit, once again. I figure the audience will be mostly for myself. I’m not locking myself into a genre or theme or any such nonsense. I’m just writing – some I’ll publish on blogs, some I likely won’t. If anyone’s still here…. welcome aboard. Enjoy the ride.

Learning Little Things

Sometimes it’s the little things you learn – and perhaps, the most obvious – that make the biggest difference.

For the past week or so, I’ve been going to the library to ‘work’.  Largely I’m working on writing, and reading (aka research) for the writing I’m doing, but I’m also using it for my space from which I blog, a lot of the time.  Although there are times when I think the problem with the public library is the public, it still tends to be quieter and more peaceful than my house in the midst of the school holidays.  Not to mention I’m surrounded by BOOKS!

There has been learning involved, too.

I’ve learned to look at maps carefully.

The particular library I hang out at, chosen not because it’s nearest to me, but because of a combination of factors including location, selection, nice study spaces, and parking, is the Waitakere Central library in Auckland.  My main kvetch with this set up has been the parking, as there’s bugger all parking immediately by it.  On the other hand, for the past week it’s been glorious and sunny, and I haven’t minded a wee stroll from the readily available, but slightly further away, parking lot to the library.

Today it’s rainy, and as I hoof it in with a laptop and usually no less than three books on my back in a backpack, I wasn’t interested in a peaceful but damp stroll through the rain.

I was looking at the map on Google Maps and complaining to hubby about my plight, and reluctance to walk a block in the rain.

 

The red line denotes the path I’ve been walking, from my parking spot, around the park, and courthouse, and Unitec building, to the library.

It wasn’t until looking at the map, that I saw the footbridge leading from the parking lot I use (admittedly the other end than I’ve been parking at) across the stream, leading direct to a path through the buildings and a side street, somewhat direct to the library.

 

Apparently it’s not that hard to park by the library, after all.   And now I have far less excuse not to ‘work’ when it’s raining.  Which is likely a good thing, as this is Auckland and we get a fair bit of rain… even when it’s forecasted to be sunny.

Another thing I learned stems from earlier in the week, but also due to my hiding out in the library.  The table (or, sequence of tables) I like to set up on is facing a window.  Which is lovely and serene.  I like windows, in general.  Windows are rubbish for laptops though.  (Pun not intended… but left deliberately!)

I was finding it seriously hard to actually do anything on the laptop, as I was finding it seriously hard to see anything on the laptop, in such a bright area.

 

I complained to the hubby (yes, I’m sensing a theme) that I needed a glare guard.  Something just to provide a little bit of shade / darkness around the edges of my laptop screen, and let me see what it is that I’m trying to work on.

It wasn’t until I was at home, on the weekend, working outside on the deck (oh, how I love laptops) that I realised it needn’t be that complicated.  I adjusted the brightness levels on my screen.  Y’know, using the little button on the keyboard put there for specifically that purpose.

And I could see again!

 

My final thing I’ve learned in the last few days also stems from the library.  It seems that being surrounded by books is not necessarily any less distracting… specifically for a bibliophile.

 

It looks good… anyone read this author before?  😉

Redefining Myself

Sometimes life isn’t as hard as we make it out to be.

I’ve done a lot of work – primarily, internal work – over the last two years or so, and I’m finally coming to a place where things are truly starting to make sense again.

I’ve been struggling with the dilemma of “What I Want to be when I Grow Up” for many years now – or I guess you could say, since growing up.  I can’t find any careers that are both suited to my skill and experience level that fire me up, or even entry level ones that lead to careers that fire me up.  Seemingly everything takes more than a BA to start with, or no degree at all – and whilst I don’t mind working in a job that doesn’t require a degree, despite the fact I have one, the ones that I can actually do are really just entry-level office administration work.  Not to knock administration, but it’s something I ‘can do’, not necessarily something I’m passionate about.

Not that long ago, however, I had a lightbulb moment. In truth, I’ve always known what I wanted to be when I grow up – I have always (at least, from the time I could read) wanted to be a writer.  Nearly anytime I mentioned this, however, I was met with limited enthusiasm.  “That’s great…. but what will you do to make a living?” In response to that, I did briefly explore journalism, but quickly found that journalism and myself are not a great mix.  I’m really not cut out for dog-eat-dog, beat-everyone-else-to-the-scoop type stuff, and journalism is rife with that.  Furthermore, my true dream is to be an author of books.  Journalism would be writing, and aside from the nasty atmosphere, a lot more desirable than administration – but being an author of books is my true calling. 

Instead, I’ve been getting hung up on how I’m going to make a living, under the blatant assumption that being an author would not make a living.   More importantly, I haven’t been doing anything about being an author.  Frankly, I’m not ‘earning a living’ at the moment anyway – but I could be writing.

So, I’ve started writing.  In my true style, I have not one project on the go, but about four, not counting my blogs.  Some, by their very nature, are progressing faster than others, but that’s fine.  They may not become books.  But I’m writing and that’s what’s important.  If I wait “until” before I start writing, I’ll never be an author.

And I’m blogging again.  (Says Captain Obvious).  Stay tuned for more, and more frequently, at this blog. Or, for a breath of fresh air (or at least pictures of such), check out my new baby – Walking to Wellness.