Saturday Soirée - Write your way through any storm

The following piece was first pubished on February 10th 2008 in my weekly column. I decided to share it here to encourage you to not forsake writing when your world crumbles around you.

This could be the year that you’ll sail on calm seas and reel in the best that life has to offer. For some of us though, turbulence maybe waiting just beyond today’s calm waters. For some of us, our worlds will explode and everything we hold dear will fall in fragments around us. It’s easy then to let the emotional devastation overwhelm us, cause us to lose our sense of direction and sink into the dark, murky waters of despair.

Journaling is an easy and effective way to deal with the pounding waves and battering winds. It can help us to understand the storm’s true impact on our lives and to regain the will, power and strength to gather the shattered pieces, apply the appropriate glue to mend them and move on with the business of living.

Certain events can easily throw us overboard, disrupt our normal lives, shatter our emotions and leave us struggling and sinking out at sea. Periodically we surface just long enough to see that we have drifted far from the familiar shores of our lives and have instead settled into a strange treading pattern, breathless and disoriented. Parents often insist that they have to stay strong and survive for their children. But we have to survive for our own sakes as well.

Here are two things to keep in mind as you consider using a journal to stay afloat in the ocean of your crisis.

Start early.
As early as possible after the storm hits, reach for your journal or any notebook and start writing. Forget eloquence, flawless prose, accurate sentence structure and precise grammar. Instead, focus on writing out your disappointment, your pain, your anger etc. But don’t let your preconceived ideas or my advice hem you into writing certain things and in a particular way. Write your way, whatever it may be; individual words, stream of thoughts like a prayer, a letter to the person who has hurt you, or to someone who might be going through the same torment.

Visualize land.
As in most instances in life, you’ll want to keep your eyes peeled on the horizon -- the life to which you hope to return or your dream destination. In the grand scheme of things, it might only be a hazy strip in the far distance but keep paddling by writing as often as possible.

Journaling provides a way to ground yourself, at least for little snatches of time. It is a safe, private haven where you pour out your confusion and sorrow and still maintain the composure and grace to carry out your daily functions.

When our hearts are broken, seemingly beyond repair and the pain feels so real, we clutch whatever we can to keep ourselves afloat. Reaching for your journal is far better than launching an attack or “spilling the beans” inappropriately.

The record you keep now for your sanity can one day be the catalyst for initiating a positive turnaround for you or for someone else going through his or her own crisis. Library shelves and the Internet are loaded with stories written by survivors of some of life’s most devastating incidents and many of them started with journal entries as memory aids and therapy. And they provide a clear record of their struggles, hopes, deliverance and triumphs.

Your circumstances are no less worthy of pen and paper. The account of your turmoil and how you survived will live on in your journal long after the event and serve as a reference for lighting the way for you in some other unfortunate situation or furnish you with just the right words to comfort and encourage someone else.

Keeping a journal helped me to brave the fear of my deepest feelings, bring them to the fore and engage with them to understand my reactions to the storms in my life. The practice also taught me how to gain a different perspective on life’s events based on my spiritual beliefs.

Only when I forced myself to reread my journals did I discover how a particular period of my life appeared to me. My written record read like the delirious mumblings of someone in the throes of an insane fever. The handwriting was almost illegible. But the pain, was so evident right there in black and white, sprawled across the pages. Naturally it evoked some red hot tears of remembrance. But between the lines, in the midst of the obvious anguish, it was evident that I was hopeful when despair and mental exhaustion diluted my emotions.

As a writer, I have found value in my journal not only for myself. But I hope, words of comfort, advice and encouragement that will help turn today’s victims into tomorrow’s survivors. Often I unearth something that strikes at the core of a topic I am researching or the pain I hear in someone’s voice or see in their eyes. That something, that experience, that truth, my truth inspires me to look at life, my life from a different perspective and provides me with globs of soothing balm to help ease someone else’s pain, clarify their confusion and revive their hope.

When you find yourself sinking in the current of an agonizing, confusing time of your life, take your journal and write your pain, grief, loss and prayers of hope in it. The practice will help you brave the storm and reach land once more.

Writing on the porch

The title of this post was inspired by the latest post by Barbara Abercrombie at Writing Time. You may read it here http://writingtime.typepad.com/writing_time/

Did I ever tell you that my porch is magical? Well it is, you know. Sitting there with pen in hand and journal balanced on my knee, magic happens.

Ideas of my column sneak upon me and often blossom into a few paragraphs or a rough first draft of an article. Very often it is there that magically a writing block crumples and a breakthrough surfaces allowing me to write freely.

Sometimes the magic is visual - I see something (situation, person, idea, etc.) from a different perspective or notice something completely new. Quietly, to myself, I utter things like, "Ummm." "When did that happen?" "Hey, I never thought of it this way." "That's a good idea; maybe I'll try that." You know, things like that.

Other times, the magic is deeply emotional - coming from the depths of my heart sometimes slowly, creeping up and pouring out onto the pages of my journal. There are times too, when the emotional magic hits me like a blast of the cold air of reality. It forces me to stop writing and pause to decipher what I'm feeling. But I only see the significance as I resume writing, capturing the emotions in words. That's where the magic happens too. That's where I truly understand it all.

And it is because of my experiences sitting on my porch that I identified with Barbara's post. As a matter of fact, her posts inspire me to write, keep writing, enjoy the process and stretch myself.

Where does magic happen for you? Please feel free to share them in the comments section.

Getting back into my writing groove

When I sent in the four pieces my editor request in December, I felt a measure of freedom. My weekly column was set until January 6th 2008. I then devoted myself to the other projects that were demanding my undivided attention.

Of course that didn't mean that I hung up my writing hat. I continued a post to my blogs and write in my journal. But every night as I slipped into bed, exhausted to the bone, I felt the emptiness created by not putting in my time at the computer writing/working as usual.

I comforted myself with the thought that as soon as the wedding was over, well, a day or two after, I'd swing right back into action. The first task on my mental list was to complete at least one piece by December 31st and another on January 3rd. That would keep me ahead of my game. No problem. After all, while busy doing all sorts of things, I was mentally conjuring up article ideas, drafting outlines, imagining ways to fine tune my writing routine.

I deluded myself. It wasn't as easy as I imagined. Of course, losing my files didn't help the situation. But that wasn't a major problem really. I was determined to move forward without them.

Still, my mind remained in a sort of anti-climax tail spin only at a slower speed much like a mental blender at low speed but not really mincing the material.

Each day I sat at the computer my mind reeled with the urgency to work. But no work, no significant writing, no words appeared on the screen. It was frustrating.

So I scraped the idea of writing for work and immersed myself in journaling my way back into shape. Into that process I incorporated my yearly analysis of goals I had set and accomplished as well as those that eluded my best efforts.

God has used writing to pull me through the most difficult periods of my life and this time it was no different. Within two days my motivation peaked and I was raring to go. In a couple of hours I wiped an article into shape and submitted it.

I opened new files to replace the ones I had lost and began writing feverishly. The vibe was intense and writing process that always brings joy to my work quickly eased me back into my groove, my writing groove that is.

As my fingers danced over the keyboard this morning, I couldn't help but say out loud, "Thank you Jesus for this life you've blest me with. Thank you for words and thoughts and books and the computer. Thank you Lord for granting me my heart's desire, my dream, the freedom to write."

Writing while waiting

Has it really been that long since my last post? I can't believe that I was that delinquent for this blog.

I've been burning up the pages of my journal. So much so, that my usual pen ran dry and I had to pull one from the spirals of another book.

The two-hour wait at the hair salon yesterday morning provided me with the wonderful experience of writing in the midst of chatter, hairdryers, laughter, footsteps etc. This is something I am only now learning to master - writing in the midst of noise and movement. The longer I wrote the further away the noises seemed. Still I was aware of women in the waiting area looking at me over the top of the magazines they were reading. They must have been saying to themselves, "What is she writing?"

Although I remained aware of what was happening around me, still, I was lost in the exercise. The unusual two-hour wait did not register until I was called to the styling chair.

Writing and waiting went hand in hand as I lost myselg in one to maximize the other. Waiting never felt so good.

Have you ever tried it?

Excitement got me stuck

I was really very serious. I mean it. I was all set to go - work on one of my books as soon as everyone else in my family began their classes on Monday evening.

Well, as usually happens, my well-laid plans get turned upside down by someone and sometimes that someone is me. Yeah, little ole me.

With eager anticipation of time alone to write, I said good bye to my husband as he left the house about an hour before his first class. I locked the door and headed to my desk.

Um, well, here goes, nothing, what? nothing? and so it went for about have an hour. In between perplexing questions, I checked my email and read my friend's blog. I also thought about decorations for my daughter's wedding. Realizing that this was not working out as I had expected, I made a cup of mint tea, grabbed my basket with my journal, small sketch pad, magazines and other porch time stuff and headed outside.

Writing in my journal revealed the reason for the blank mind and blank screen. Although I looked forward to Monday 3rd September, it just seemed to suddenly fall from the sky. I was alone at home and all my excited plans to write like crazy just crumbled. I felt a little lost. All right, I felt plenty lost.

It was all too real, surreal, whatever. Words did not come in the formal writing session as I envisioned. I realized that I needed some time to acclimatize myself to the new evening writing routine.

So I let go of my mental plan and immersed myself in writing in my journal, letting my mind slip into the comfort of unstructured writing. The anxiety and disappointment peeled away and my free writing spirit returned, accompanied by the sheer joy of just simply writing.

In the midst of that I made the decision to let the book project sit for the first week while I explore my true feeling about the change in everyone's routine and how it affected me emotionally.

It was a wise decision and an interesting process. By the end of the week I became aware of a milder, more controlled attitude about the extra hours that I was given to develop an evening writing schedule.

Monday 10th was my new start-date.

Of course to counteract that, the contractor for the new addition started work bright and early, Monday morning. Still I refused to let that be a spoke in my writing wheel.

In the mornings I'll work on articles for my Womanwise column then take a break to prepare lunch. After lunch and an hour to relax, I'll write in my journal and surf the net for no more than an hour. At two o'clock I plan to go back to working on the two articles for a new print magazine. Once those are submitted on Friday, I'll be free to fill the 2.00 - 4.00 p.m. time slot with other projects. Take a break and get my butt back to my chair at 5.30 pm to work on the book until 7.45 pm.

It worked quite well yesterday. I'm so proud. And it has been a successful day today, so far.
Maybe this is it. Maybe this is finally the schedule that will help me realize my dream of writing one of my three books.

We'll soon see, won't we.

Nothing Happens Before Its Time

Thank God!

For more than a week, I was unable to identify a topic for next Sunday's column. But I was intent on not missing my deadline. Although I have not been writing for publication, I was all over my journal - every day, several times a day. My desire to journal intensifies when I am in netherland with work-related writing. No matter what happens, I must write and I do so almost feverishly in my journal.

Then God led me to review all the articles I had submitted since September 2006. As I opened the file last Friday night, I wondered why I was doing that. But there was the list. Immediately I eyes rested on a piece that I could not recall seeing in the magazine. It didn't take long to realize that it was never published. Yep, hence the reason for my opening exclamation.

I dived in and proceeded to re-work it a little, editing and fine-tuning until I felt it was ready for re-submission. This time it fit closer to the revised word count that would fill the space on the assigned page for the column.

I believe that God orchestrates all things for His divine purpose and our good and here again was the evidence.

Maybe this is the time for this article. Maybe there is someone, somewhere, whose circumstances scream for the words it contains. I hope so.

Strangely, and maybe not so strangely, as soon as I hit the button on Monday morning to send the piece off, I arose from my mental recuperation and my heart felt free to delve into my writing again. My enthusiasm soared as I planted my butt in my chair yesterday afternoon for several hours. The weeklong fog lifted and ideas danced in my head - additional evidence that a period of rest rejuvenates my creativity, fires up my enthusiasm and clarifies my thoughts.

When this happens, I write like a maniac - often working on several topics in a two - three hour session.

I love this burst of writing energy I get after a writing low. It assures me that I this is my life's work, as the thrill of it all makes my skin tingle and my pores raise while my fingers do the Macarena on my keyboard and my words sing their song on the computer screen.

My heart is enlivened once more.