Monday morning. The air feels thick with summer. I turn on my computer, open Scrivener, and log on to video call with the women I write with most mornings during the week. It’s about accountability, camaraderie, support, laughter, and oh yeah… words.
I joined the group - it’s titled The Confident Creative Club, and is run by the creative force that is Helen Redfern - earlier in the year. Without a doubt, it’s been the best decision I’ve made for my writing life in a long, long time. While there’s many facets to the group, my favorite are the live writing sessions. We show up just as we are, from all corners of the world, and put our microphones on mute and write, together but separately. At the end of the hour we touch base and see we each got on with our writing.
There’s power in showing up with others with the shared intention of writing.
Even with that, some mornings are harder than others. Recently I’ve been so focused on getting to the end of the draft I’m working on, that I’ve forgotten about the tricks and tools I use to get started on a draft during that period of time when you need as much inner and outer support as you can get to show up in the face of a blank page. The other week I pulled out all of my notebooks that I’d written in when I first had a glimmer of an idea, and reading through my scribbles reminded me of how I relied heavily on tarot cards {I used that as prompts when I feel stuck} and the rituals of putting on certain bracelets a friend of mine for me that represent my books and connection to creativity. They might seem like little things, but the few moments it takes to pull a card and to slip on those bracelets are what it takes to ground and center me. After that, I’ll refer to any notes I made the day before, take a deep breath, and start writing.
These days I’ve been camping out in my bedroom for the morning writing sessions, where it’s cool and quiet. The dog rests by my side, she nudges me for snuggles now and then which make for a welcome distraction, the fan whirs, and the curtains dance. During the winter months, it looks much the same, only I’m camped out by the fireplace, notebooks spread out on the couch beside me, but the dog is still at my feet.
That hour of time each day is sacred. It’s taken time for me to set boundaries around my writing time, to show up consistently, and even longer to take my writing seriously. I find that no matter what season it is, the more often I can start the day with some words and connect creatively with myself, the better the day will be.
The key to having a writing life is of course to write. But it’s also to recognize the seasonal changes within ourselves, our process, and our lives, and to shift accordingly. Rhythms and rituals, whether they’re showing up with others or simply slipping on a bracelet or two, can ease those shifts and remind us why we’re showing up in the first place. The tricky part is to remember they’re there to fall back on, even after we’ve been swept up in a story that carries us through the difficulty of getting to the page. When the energy falls, and fatigue sets in, it’s those rhythms and rituals that will carry us to the end of our drafts. Maybe they’ll actually get the place they deserve in the acknowledgment section of my next book…