I promised myself yesterday that if I couldn’t switch gears and write something new here at the Lied Lodge, I would not be hard on myself. I want to be kind to myself and make space for some grace.
While this place has historically been pure gold where generating new work is concerned, this 1-day-only opportunity is far from the same. For one thing, it’s one day and not 10. In that amount of time I’m still in transition from the druthers of my regular daily routine to that special place where the writing just flows.
For another thing, the magic is probably the atmosphere created by all the other similarly minded people that are usually here for the same purpose. Not to mention all the lectures and talks that serve as the perfect springboard for all kinds of thoughts. Yeah, the magic is in the people and connection.
I’m waking up feeling ok. Not quite as refreshed as I’d like but that’s due to a less than stellar night’s sleep. Still it was good not to wake up to Darth in the middle of the night and not be able to go back to sleep.
After I met my friend for dinner at the restaurant last night, I went back to my room and tried to read. After reading much of the latest “Rattle” cover to cover, I felt a tingle of thought, but failed to make the conversion to the page. I typed a paragraph and then backspaced it all out.
At dinner my friend brought up “morning pages,” which is, as I understand it, the practice of writing three pages each morning before you really start your day. I asked her if she writes longhand or types. She said longhand, “three pages.”
I asked what kind of notebook. Three pages in an 8×10 is much different than a 6×4 and wide ruled versus college would make a lot of difference too. And there are no pages when you’re typing into a phone on Google docs. It just goes on and on and on.
I guess the point is that you have to write for practice and to get the mind going. Supposedly that third page is where the magic starts to happen. Sometimes it takes a measure of thought and writing to begin to get to the heart of what is most concerning you. I agree with that.
I’ve experienced it so many times right here. My mind will meander around and then suddenly stumble over the topic that really matters. I can feel that it hasn’t really happened yet today. I’m not sure how much I’d have to write to find it.
What’s consuming my thoughts instead? New Years resolutions and Good Life Review work. I woke up thinking about what day it is and that our contest is supposed to be open today. Donuts to dollars if I don’t get it open on submittable some Jack-hat will email me about it. I’ll probably go back to my room after this and open something right quick just so it’s out there.
The sad fact that I won’t be able to focus my attention elsewhere until it’s done is just that… a sad fact. I guess I see it as my job now and my sense of responsibility and dedication overrides my purpose here.
Back to Rattle though. It’s such a wonderful publication. I would love to have a poem in their pages. It feels like a pipe dream. Almost all the poems were top notch. Many sparking thoughts about ways I could approach writing, and I thought about it, but don’t have a topic. Nothing is burning inside me. Nothing is trying to claw its way out.
The person who is here at the lodge with me is a vegan, except she sometimes eats fish and a few other things if she knows the animals had good lives. I’m thinking about that.
I had a poem accepted by a publication a few weeks back and it’s supposed to go up on the web today. I’m thinking about that.
I’m sure that before I leave the gym this morning I’ll hit the WORDLE site to unlock today’s word. Maybe my goal should be to use the word in a poem. Maybe I should break out those books I bought, one with 3000 questions and the other with about 500 story prompts. But is that too fabricated? Will I care enough if that’s the source?
Back to the New Year’s resolution… what did I promise myself I would try to accomplish each week and month. I should go check on that too, to see if I can further distract myself with the short time I have left here at the lodge before shoveling my car out to drive home.
Maybe I’ll sit in the lobby by the fireplace with a hot coffee like I promised myself I would yesterday.
The sun is coming up now. There’s a window in this workout room and all that white out there is beginning to look a little brighter. That must mean it’s time to go.
Peace and love,