"Meditation and writing practice are coincident." - Natalie Goldberg
Lately, when I ask someone about their writing practice, they get nervous. The whole conversation seems like it’s on a slip-n-slide. Responses range from the vague (“I don’t really know what that is” or “I don’t really follow one”) to the emphatic (“I don’t need one” or “Writing regularly hinders my creativity”). Most people also think that a writing practice refers to writers of fiction, poetry, memoirs, or anything they consider to be literary.
While
I am a writer of fiction (and sometimes the accidental poem), I had a serious
epiphany about my own writing practice recently. I was revisiting Natalie
Goldberg’s Writing Down the Bones. Unbeknownst to her, Natalie has been my
mentor, via her book, for a long time. When I read it again for a class, I
wondered how I had missed all the gems in it, and why I had been so remiss in
making use of the wisdom she imparts therein.
Throughout
the book, she quotes and refers to her Buddhist Zen Master. Early in the book she writes: "In 1974 I began to do sitting meditation. From 1978 to 1984 I studied Zen formally with Dainin Katagiri Roshi (Roshi is a title for a Zen master) at the Minnesota Zen Center in Minneapolis. Whenever I went to see him and asked him a question about Buddhism, I had trouble understanding the answer until he said, “You know, like in writing when you . . .” When he referred to writing, I understood. About three years ago he said to me, “Why do you come to sit meditation? Why don’t you make writing your practice? If you go deep enough in writing, it will take you everyplace.”
Suddenly my writing practice took on a completely different (and deeper) meaning. Beyond word counts and deadlines, this was a framework to better understand the way the craft of writing had taken hold of me in the third grade and hasn't let go since. By coming to my practice of this craft with mindfulness, as a meditation, I am honoring the best part of myself. On the best days, it does take me everywhere, and gloriously so.
A big part of this is creating the right space. When people hear "meditation" they thing of quietude and closed eyes, which it certainly can be. But meditation is also mindfulness, and creating the right mental and physical space for your writing means whatever will allow you to do it mindfully. For me, this is writing in my favorite cafe on sometimes, or writing in bed in the last moments before turn the light out to go to sleep other times. It might mean an entire afternoon spent cranking out a huge swath of my novel, jotting down notes in stolen moments on a busy day, or a short block of time at the same time each day. Those in the know about meditation and mindfulness suggest starting small. Your writing practice might develop in the same way, and will change and evolve over time.
Another important factor is the intent with which you begin and engage in your writing practice. I have learned to approach many things in life, especially important goals and activities, with a sense of how I want to feel in doing them and accomplishing them. Writing is my bliss---when I approach it as a meditation of what I love to do most in the world, rather than something I need to cross off of my list just to say that I've done it or because I'm supposed to do it. In a women's group I belong to, we recently worked with "gift" goals, vs "should" goals. Even when my writing practice must include a homework assignment for grad school, I approach it as a meditation, and a gift goal.
But deadlines and word counts and homework assignments are inevitable. So are writer's block, physical and mental exhaustion, distractions, and any number of other ways life challenges a solid writing practice and your commitment to it. So what can be done in the face of all of this? In addition to getting yourself into the setting that best supports your own writing mojo, breathe. Set your intention for your practice when you begin. Realize that you're safe with the page, and with yourself. Be kind to yourself. A recent homework included an article by Lauren Sapala, which led me to her book, The INFJ Writer. In it she suggests beginning each writing session with a short gratitude list. This has been a wonderful implementation to my writing practice, and has done a lot to thwart any anxiety, fear, self-doubt or self-sabotage that might plague me at the outset.
Suddenly my writing practice took on a completely different (and deeper) meaning. Beyond word counts and deadlines, this was a framework to better understand the way the craft of writing had taken hold of me in the third grade and hasn't let go since. By coming to my practice of this craft with mindfulness, as a meditation, I am honoring the best part of myself. On the best days, it does take me everywhere, and gloriously so.
A big part of this is creating the right space. When people hear "meditation" they thing of quietude and closed eyes, which it certainly can be. But meditation is also mindfulness, and creating the right mental and physical space for your writing means whatever will allow you to do it mindfully. For me, this is writing in my favorite cafe on sometimes, or writing in bed in the last moments before turn the light out to go to sleep other times. It might mean an entire afternoon spent cranking out a huge swath of my novel, jotting down notes in stolen moments on a busy day, or a short block of time at the same time each day. Those in the know about meditation and mindfulness suggest starting small. Your writing practice might develop in the same way, and will change and evolve over time.
 |
| illustration by Ben Thomson |
But deadlines and word counts and homework assignments are inevitable. So are writer's block, physical and mental exhaustion, distractions, and any number of other ways life challenges a solid writing practice and your commitment to it. So what can be done in the face of all of this? In addition to getting yourself into the setting that best supports your own writing mojo, breathe. Set your intention for your practice when you begin. Realize that you're safe with the page, and with yourself. Be kind to yourself. A recent homework included an article by Lauren Sapala, which led me to her book, The INFJ Writer. In it she suggests beginning each writing session with a short gratitude list. This has been a wonderful implementation to my writing practice, and has done a lot to thwart any anxiety, fear, self-doubt or self-sabotage that might plague me at the outset.
Writing is meditation, if you'll allow it to be, whether you're writing a poem or a blog post, a mystery or a memoir, a journal or a literary jewel. Give it a try and let me know how it goes.
Anne Eston is a writer of magical realism, a story magic archaeologist, and a mentor to women writiers of all ages. She teaches for the International Women's Writing Guild and holds an MFA in Creative Writing. She lives in Los Angeles with her husband and two imp muses (cats) Stanley and Sofia.
Join my mailing list to stay in the know on my mentoring, story magic, and workshop offerings and to receive another FREE GIFT!
www.writeranne.net ⁎ anne@writeranne.net ⁎ Twitter @wildwriteranne ⁎ Facebook Wild Woman Writer
