untangling my zen

i haven't been writing my morning pages. i can feel it in my head. re-reading my previous posts reminds me that i am only cheating myself when i don't write. i think it's time to revisit that practice and figure out why, knowing what i do about the positive side-effects of morning pages, i still make a daily choice not to do it. 

i have, however, discovered a new interest that was an outgrowth of some creative exploration i was doing during verb tribe. (i know it's been creeping into my writing time.) thanks to google, i stumbled onto a method for drawing and creating art that is suprisingly accessible and one that has convinced me that maybe ... just maybe ... i can draw. like any worthwhile practice, zentangle seems to take moments to understand and a lifetime to master. it's a good process for a brain like mine that buzzes through tasks and is always atuned to what's next. zentangle slows my brain down and makes me focus on exactly one thing at a time - the next stroke. and then the next stroke. as the zentangle philosophy says "anything is possible one stroke at at time." 

i am going to take an extended tour of zentangle learning by attending a Certified Zentangle Teacher (CZT) training in Rhode Island in August. i am a wee bit excited. 

you too can be a poet ...

feeling the need to write a poem.  check out bentlilly.  here's the poem i "wrote"...

It was the day we laughed so hard 
we made the irises bloom 

I was eight 
it was breezy 

we were running like horses 
a game of four square 
happiness all balled up in our fingers 
shooting out of us in shrieks and bellows 

I'm a bird 
she declared 

and I decided I was too 

a brave bird 
with nothing to do 
but chase the wind 

they say it whips you in the face 
but this isn’t how it works 
if you run hard enough 
the wind bores right into you 

I don’t remember anything else 
except the smell of the slow 
sweet as birthday cake 

the wind carried the rest away.

check out the site and my poem online.  better yet, write one yourself. 

how I joined a tribe and got my brain back

On February 1st, I started a 37-day writing journey called Verb Tribe. Along with a "daily commitment to create", I agreed to participate and be "100% in" as part of a community that would help me to finally develop a consistent, sustainable, daily writing practice, see life more clearly, and force me to pay attention in new ways.

I have always loved writing. It goes right along with my love of words and books. Funny thing though, despite my love of writing I used to never find the time to write. Verb Tribe very quickly helped me to identify the blocks in my life that were keeping me from writing regularly. A lot of those blocks had to do with my own made-up stories about how scarce time is, how busy I am, and that I didn't really have important enough stuff to say, much less write about. It's no wonder then that I didn't ever really sit down and write. Verb Tribe helped clear up all that nonsense once and for all, but, luckily Verb Tribe didn't stop there.

Verb Tribe gave me my brain back.

For several days during Verb Tribe we pondered and wrote about the concept of spaciousness. We wrote about our definition of spaciousness on brown paper bags one day. We read a poem about the "spaces between." We looked at edges and spaces and noted them faithfully on index cards. At the time these seemed to be nice enough and interesting exercises. But, honestly, I had a hard time really defining what I think spaciousness is. Now, looking back, I see that the entire Verb Tribe experience was an exercise in spaciousness – and that's how I got my brain back.

I can now say, without a doubt, that spaciousness is not related to the placement of objects in my physical surroundings. Being organized does not create spaciousness, nor will decluttering. For me, spaciousness is a mental concept and a feeling. Spaciousness means that I have breathing room in my brain. A regular writing practice has given me the gift of spaciousnes.

I have spent most of my adult life doing battle with an overcrowded brain. Words, conversation, thoughts, feelings, and anxiety mix together and bang around in my head constantly. I have very real physical sensations related to the crowding of my head. When I am not writing there is no space between the ideas and phrases in my head. There is no organization and no boundaries. One idea leads to the next and the next and the next. There is no jumping off point. There's no rest.

When I am not writing, daily life is like glue applied over the spaces in my brain. The glue seals in the crap and the darkness and chokes off any source of oxygen. In time, my brain functions less effectively because I have a pasted-up, glued shut mess of brain that runs out of space. I am cranky, and tired and pretty sure that the whole world is conspiring to keep me busy all the time. I am a real pain in the ass to live with.

When I made the space in my life 37 days ago – to take up my pen, show up to the page, and finally just write – something wonderful happened. Space in my brain started opening up and the noise in my head calmed down. And within the new spaciousness in my brain I found some wonderful gifts like forgiveness, joy, ease, and laughter. Who knew Verb Tribe would lead me to such a pleasing discovery?

And because I know that I need to keep writing and clearing more space, I have taken up the practice of writing Morning Pages. Writing every morning, long-hand, without fail, for at least three pages creates space in my day and in my brain. I leave a lot of noise on the page and I don't have to work to keep it all in my brain anymore. It's just gone. I don't think about it again once it's written. Writing Morning Pages and making space is really not about WHAT I write. Rather, it's simply that I show up and write and invite more spaciouness into my life.