It’s been a hard writerly slog the past couple weeks, both mentally and emotionally, but I’m grateful for the image of William Faulkner protecting the sacred circle surrounding my WIP and me. He’s doing a helluva job keeping those demon voices at bay. Sure, they slip in now and again but with one well-aimed profanity, he sends them running for the hills.
Saturday night Zippy and I went to Red Rocks for the concert.
Mavis Staples – WOW!
John Butler Trio – very good.
Michael Franti and Spearhead – TRANSCENDENT. One of the most moving experiences of my life. MF is angered by the daily dose of bullshit and criminal behavior we’ve been subjected to for the past six and a half years BUT he’s also filled with hope for the planet. He’s a minstrel bringing messages of awareness and hope to the masses, and the people respond. I absolutely recommend seeing Spearhead’s live show, especially if you’re feeling so worn down you just can’t go on. Did I mention you’ll dance?!
Wildebeest and Zebu are back from camp. I picked them up Tuesday morning. Monday afternoon I received my one and only letter from camp. It was from Zebu. Dated Friday, June 29, the letter began: “Dear Mom, For me, the past two days sucked.” He went on to document how the powdered Gatorade container he volunteered to carry on their hike up a mountain opened in his pack, covered all his stuff, and coated his arms which made him “a feast for the mosquitoes.” He listed other travails which I read through my tears. I got there early on Tuesday morning, expecting a sad little camper eager to leave the mountains. HA. We were the last family to leave. My two guys kept laughing and talking with the counselors, doing card tricks and taking photos. It’s nice having them home again.
I haven’t written a whole lot in the past few days but I did manage to get over that bad spot and find my way back into the story. I’ve gone back to keeping the book secret as I write this second draft, and it feels better. William Faulkner is doing a good job guarding the circle.
I have a new addiction. I learned about Betty Hoop when there was an article in the paper about her Bolder Boulder run. She hooped the entire 6.2 miles without the hoop hitting the ground! Anyway, I just love my hoop because it’s made for adults (heavier) and stays up when I twirl. I always thought I couldn’t hoop but now I can go nonstop and am feeling all sorts of stomach muscles I haven’t used in years. Hooping mellows me out but also energizes me at the same time. Plus, it makes me smile! (If anyone is interested in getting one, the GAIAM hoop/DVD was on sale for $24.50 when I ordered by phone. I haven’t used the DVD yet, am having fun just twirling and staring into space).
Tomorrow morning we take off for a week in Yellowstone and Montana. It turns out
will be in the same Yellowstone lodge at the same time! We’re going to meet! I’m so excited! Can you tell?!
I’m taking my travel hoop on the trip. Hooping next to the geysers! (Right. As if Wildebeest and Zebu would allow that).
Wishing you all a wonderful week.
This morning
pointed out that I was leaving rather sad writing-related comments on journals. She wisely advised I stop beating myself up about my lack of progress and instead, give myself room to write whatever comes to mind. To relax and breathe. Or just be stuck. Her concern brought tears to my eyes.
A few minutes after reading her comment, I left for my weekly somatic experiencing appointment. When I got there, I told my therapist I was weepy this morning because I was so frustrated and stuck on a project. In talking about it further, I realized a huge part of my anxiety is the worry that I’d “talked” myself out of this book. The thing is, I learned the hard way (as in having to abandon a really great project) that I cannot talk about a book until I have at least a first draft written because each time I say something about the book, it’s like letting air out of a balloon. Pretty soon the book/balloon is flat and lifeless and I have no desire to play with it anymore. I do have a first draft of this book but it’s different than the others I’ve written. More plot oriented than character-driven. Since I’m not as comfortable with plot as characterization, I started talking with Zippy about plot issues. Well, he suggested stuff and we talked and talked about my book, and at the time I thought it was really cool to have that connection and collaboration. Now I’m not so sure.
In discussing all this loss-of-energy-on-this-project stuff with my therapist, I realized I needed to stop talking about this project. Then she recommended visualizing a circle around me and my project, one that keeps that creative energy close but also prevents anyone/anything from interfering in my process. So I closed my eyes and did that (somatic experiencing is all about looking within and tracking physical/emotional sensations. I know it sounds wacky but it’s been a lifesaver for me). She asked if there was anyone I wanted to stand guard on my circle, to help me keep out the interference. I chose William Faulkner. As I visualized my circle with ol’ William standing guard, I felt relief. Not one hundred percent relief, but some.
Then we talked more about the panic and doubts I’ve had about this project and I told her I felt like I was in a free fall. She asked if there was anyone I’d trust to grab onto me, to stop my fall. I immediately visualized a human chain of writer friends, all of you, reaching out to grab my hand. As I pictured all of us linked by our hands, I thought about how you all understand what I’m going through, how we all cheer each other on, and celebrate the good moments and mourn the bad. I thought about how this publishing trek is so tough and competitive but how everyone here is willing to help out the other writers.
I got teary again. The good kind of teary. In that moment, I felt safe and confident of my writing ability. The panic and doubts were gone. I wasn’t alone in my crazy shame spiral. You’ve all been there. You know what it’s like and you all do your best to drag fellow writers out of that icky place.
Since this morning’s appointment, I’ve had a couple more moments of loathing and doubt. But each time I visualized my connection with all my writer friends, and felt calm again. Later I sat at my desk, closed my eyes and basked in the quiet
wrote about in today’s post. And you know what? I wrote 700 words.
I appreciate each of you so very much. Thanks for all you give.
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Tracy Abell 