Our subconscious has a way of winding itself into our writing, if we’re paying attention. This practice always startles me, by reminding me of something that was sideways and not quite at the surface.
For the last several months—actually, the past year—I’ve been running experiments on myself and my process. One month I gave up social media. The next month I played with internet blockers. For three months I’ve been doing mornings pages, with few exceptions. But the thing I keep struggling to figure out is how to get more writing done. More writing in. The business trap is real. I’m not sure what else to call it, other than the pull of the machine: emails to answer, blog posts to write. It’s easy to get sucked into the frenzy of doing things for doing’s sake, and the tangible output of writing a draft, or even just plucking away at the next stage of researching, always seems to be time whittled away. This week, however, I stumbled on something that turned my mind upside down.
One puzzle of being a regular blogger is considering what the collection of essays adds up to over time. I’ve written before about why I write, my writing habits and how important it is to me to show up to the process. Recently I made a new map to exploring all of these essays and I’m excited to show it to you.
Not that long ago, as an eight-month pregnant lady living on stitched-together patches of sleep, finding time to journal was becoming a challenge amongst my pending worries about new motherhood. I decided to try the Clarity Cards as a journaling exercise and loved the results. Here’s the four-step process I used to chart out thoughtful ideas, insights, and clear perspectives on being pregnant.
This Fall, for the first time in three years, I’m teaching a live (via the Internet) gathering of The Writer’s Workshop. We’ll come together for eight weeks to practice writing, form writing groups, and gather for live calls in order to get better at storytelling, narrative, and persuasion. Sign up early, space is limited.