It has been a real shift in habit for me, getting up and writing each morning. It's been absolutely dreamy. It feels important. I feel important. I feel more important if I've already taken a shower when I sit down at the computer. Much more official.
“There is something very right about simply letting yourself write. And the way to do that is to begin, to begin where you are.”
-Julia Cameron, The Right to Write
I gave myself an assignment to formally note what I have learned/noticed/relearned over the course of the month. Here’s what found its way to my list…
~ Writing is magical.
~ Writing is hard.
~ You've got to show up every day.
~ Sometimes you have nothing to say.
~ Time off is also important. We need to fill the well, let things simmer. (Reason for the missing Saturday post.)
~ Some ideas take time.
~ Length does not equal profundity.
~ I'm really wordy.
~ I'm perfectionistic.
~ Being the caretaker of Six Giraffes fills me with elation.
~ It also feels like a big responsibility.
~ This belief often leads to fear.
~ Meeting like-minded strangers is exhilarating. So is turning them into new friends.
~ Knowing I’ve impacted someone's day gives me a tingly thrill.
~ I crave validation. Especially for my personal ideas.
~ I’m still finding my voice.
~ I love telling stories with visuals.
~ I want to create a realistic blogging schedule for the school year.
~ I love teaching people things.
~ I love musing on personal life journeys.
I am a writer.
I’ve been saying that for about eight years now, and it has been true all this time. I’ve gone through periods where I spend copious time in my notebooks, carrying around small journals to capture unusual moments throughout the day. And then I get "busy." Notebooks start to collect dust.
But now I am consistently writing, and that is all it takes to be a writer.
“I think the angels reward people who show up at their desk at 6:00 a.m.”
Last night I just had to draft out a snippet of an idea. It was as if I had suddenly stoked a previously invisible smoldering fire. Energy rushed through me and onto the page until I could no longer fight off sleep. This morning I felt a weight had lifted, as if that idea had been taking up internal, spiritual space. The bubble gum that had been holding the envelope tight was gone. Once I freed that character onto the page, I was able to speak about new things. Literally.
This fascinated me. Do I show less of myself when I don’t provide an outlet for the characters inside me? When I am really committed to my writing schedule, will I feel more space to express new ideas? I’m curious to see as well as curious to read what finds its way to my pages.
Thanks to everyone who has spent some time here at Six Giraffes during these inaugural months. I love reading your comments, and your encouragement lands like a bouquet of bright daisies in my happy hands.
Next week I’ll be taking you on a road tour of the California coast. Stay tuned to see what magic awaits—hoping to have lots of special things to share!