A Place To Find Your Voice

“A self that goes on changing is a self that goes on living.”

— Virginia Woolf

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Happy New Year! I rang in 2024 with 108 sacred bells at my Zen center and it was a gorgeous beginning to the year. We sat in a candlelit room, taking turns softly hitting the gong as we meditated for over an hour. I was wrapped in a warm shawl, allowing the past year to flow through me, sending out gratitude and lovingkindness. Listening to the distant sounds of revelry outside. Feeling the presence of those in the room with me.


Each bell would bring me into the present moment, the vibrations rippling through me like medicine. We knew it was midnight when the final two gongs sounded. I thought I would miss the champagne and seeing the ball drop, but, nope: I can think of no better way to meet all that this year will bring. To welcome another year of life with silence reminded me of how sacred each moment of our lives is--our breath, the water we drink, the roofs over our head. I knew as those bells sounded that there was so much suffering in the world, even in the room with me, even within myself. And yet, the bells keep ringing...Humans are pretty damn beautiful when they're not blowing things up. 


Speaking of beautiful humans: have any of you seen this gorgeous 60-second meditation? I LOVE IT SO MUCH.



Click on it now and see what happens. If anything about the season you're in right now doesn't have 108-bell-high-vibe-energy, that's okay: being human is the hardest job in the world. 



I'm behind on all my journaling and reflecting, but I think that's a good thing. I rather like the idea of easing into a new year and taking the time to let 2023 metabolize and try this new year on for size slowly, cozily, and with discernment. The above image is my new calendar, which I adore, not least of which because January features "The Writer's Cottage: A place to find your voice." This whole image is chocolate for my writing soul: dark hot cocoa with maple marshmallows, anyone?


I'm excited by the idea of place being connected to voice and I wonder what the past few years of living in L'Etoile du Nord has done to mine.


It feels a bit softer, a bit more thoughtful. These long winter months bake that slower pace into you. I have more than ever to say, but there are new ways of saying it that are emerging. I'm curious how your places are impacting your work. One of my favorite things is when a writer mentions in their acknowledgments where they wrote a book and why that mattered. (If you haven't listened to Barbara Kingsolver talk about Demon Copperhead, voice, and place on the Armchair Expert podcast, you're in for a treat.) Anyway, don't you just want to rent that cabin right now?! 

Above: Miss Circe...not sure which of us needs the sun lamp more!

See that picture on the bottom left of the whiteboard, the one with the hands? It's from an issue of National Geographic and these handprints are considered one of, if not the very first, examples of human art. Those are ancient handprints, created and left there...why? What compelled those early humans to leave their handprints behind? That need to create, to share, to make a mark--it's in all of us.


We are in the lineage of whoever decided to decorate those cave walls.


An ancient lineage of creators who, despite darkness and fear and illness and uncertainty, took the time to make some beautiful. Something that would outlast them and serve to inspire future generations. Something they didn't get paid to do. Food for thought for those of you who are feeling a bit hopeless, and dreading - if you're American - the upcoming presidential election and everything that's happening to vulnerable people in the US and on its borders. There is a lot to be afraid of no matter where you are, and I suspect those early humans were deep into fight-flight-freeze mode on the regular. But they still made art because they were compelled to. Sometimes you get paid when you're compelled to make things and sometimes you don't. Bet they had no idea I'd be writing about their work a gazillion years later, looking at it every day for inspiration as I try to make sense of what the point of me writing anything is. I also feel such sweet love for our species when I think about how, as kids, our handprints were some of the first works of art we were taught to create, too.

The Page of Pentacles makes me think of those handprints and the people who made them: let's see what happens, let's try a thing, let's risk making fools of ourselves. 


This happens to be the card I pulled for the year, which is so perfect for where I'm at now with all my new endeavors and projects. The Page is the youngest of the court cards and is all about curiosity and beginner's mind. The pentacles represent our livelihood and the concerns of day-today life, including our homes and families. I love this card's illustration from the Light Seer's Tarot: she's rooted in the earth and sacred tradition while staying in motion with the mandala that is her complex life's weavings. 


It can be hard to be the Page because it's an admission that there is more to learn and a willingness to fail. It's knowing you have a lot further to go, and working with the season you are in, trusting that the wisdom of the Queen and King will eventually weave itself into you. 


The Virginia Woolf quote at the top of the newsletter speaks to the Page, as well: "A self that goes on changing is a self that goes on living." We are changing, we must, whether we like it or not. Bodies that are aging, life circumstances that have shifted, approaches to writing and reading that are unexpected. A whole industry - publishing - undergoing enormous and constant change, even if some of its most frustrating aspects haven't changed a bit.


Change is the nature of all life, and embracing change, rather than resisting it, is what will allow us to meet change with the dynamic energy of curiosity and non-judgement. 


My upcoming self-compassion intensive for writers feels supported by this energy of openness and curiosity: diving in to caring for ourselves in a culture that tells us to muscle up, buttercup is a way to access our beginner's mind and to have that childlike approach to trying and maybe failing and then trying again. What would it feel like to be kind when you fail, when you have a tough day, when you break promises to yourself? And how can that kindness actually support and strengthen your writing practice? Paradoxes abound! 

While we can't all launch ourselves into the writer's cottage from my calendar, we can bring a little bit of it into our lives. Where are the pockets of sweet contemplation you can bring into your day? How might you rustle up some of that cozy magic as you ease into this new year with deep care for your energy, your boundaries, and your heart?

May you be happy, healthy, safe, and inspired this year!

It's Time For A Breakthrough

“You can’t use up creativity. The more you use, the more you have.

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— Maya Angelou

We talk a lot in this Lotus & Pen space about mental hygiene and mindfulness and how to care for yourself in and out of the writer's seat.


One form of care I know to be essential is that, no matter how busy life gets, we need ways to continually be challenging and growing as writers. 


I'm not talking about taking another class or reading another craft book - good things, yes (I am an MFA professor, after all); in engaging that way, we're often just stuffing our heads with more information, when what we need is


s p a c i o u s n e s s. 


What would it look like to grow without picking up another book, taking another class, listening to another podcast? 
My friend Minna has taken to using the term "low-key" when talking about hang-outs. They do this to signal an understanding that we are all exhausted and that spending time together doesn't have to be a whole thing. We can just low-key, low-stakes hang out. 


And, so, in that spirit, I want to share some low-key ways that you can grow this upcoming fall season, ways that you can catch that back-to-school energy but avoid the sometimes manic panic that comes with setting impossible deadlines for yourself. (Such as, I will finish this book I've barely started by Christmas. That kind of thing). 
 

Breakthrough sessions look different for every writer because it depends on why they want to do 1:1 work in the first place. For some, it's a space where we're looking to build up their confidence after a tough writing season, or to get them into a strong writing habit that works for their life. For others, it's about cracking the code on a project: lots of brainstorming, exercises from me, generative work. Others may be struggling with the inner critic or on the verge of giving up or not certain how to navigate a project that is throwing them into an emotional tail-spin.


Often, writers schedule these calls because they are tired of breaking promises to themselves, of watching yet another year slip by where the writing just...didn't happen. By the end of our time together, we've done the work to get them back on track. 


Whatever the reason, I make sure that our call includes lots of exploratory work they can do on their own. Homework! Because I'm a nerd.


Below are some of the generative activities that came out of recent 1:1 Breakthrough Calls with writers. Take what's useful and leave the rest. 

One writer wanted to "foster delight" in her writing practice while she's working on a painful memoir. She happens to be very curious about middle grade despite being a literary author, so we came up with a reading list of middle grade books and gave her permission to take breaks from the memoir to explore playing around with a middle grade story. 

• This same writer needed support in and out of the writer's seat because working on personal and traumatic material is deeply activating. I shared several sections of a curriculum I wrote for UCLA on building a mindful self-compassion toolbox when writing trauma. These include mindfulness, meditation, and writing practice. 

• One writer I did an editorial critique for discovered in our call that he might have Complex PTSD. This came out of my notes that the protagonist presented this way, but that we didn't know where this came from. I suggested he read Arielle Schwartz's fantastic primer, A Practical Guide to Complex PTSD. I'm not able to diagnose him, but, armed with this knowledge, he can now bring this possibility to a helping pro AND deepen his character on the page by understanding her mental health landscape. 

• This same writer wasn't sure how to do this work of building the complex PTSD of his character's background, so I forwarded him my Story Genius Cheat Sheet, which shares some great side-writing exercises from that book. Of course, he also has my Unlock workbook and 31 Days of Writing workbook. 

• A writer I've been working with for years who has a very strong practice was recently hit with several health issues and has found it very difficult to focus at home. We talked about how she might spend a couple days a week at a co-working space or coffeehouse, but that doesn't work for her. What we landed on was deepening her mindfulness practice and using labeling to help her be aware of her habit energy. When a package is delivered, she doesn't need to get up and get it right away, as others in the home can do that. So when the urge to get up comes over her, she can label this, "Package." Just that simple action breaks her out of knee-jerk reactions to outside stimuli that unnecessarily take her from her writing. We combined that with a phrase that really helps her that she wrote on a post-it above her desk to stay focused on her goal of finishing this revision. 

• Another writer who's working on a memoir is really uncertain as to whether it's actually a memoir or non-fiction. Over four Breakthrough calls, we've done a multitude of exercises to figure out what the book she wants to read is, articulating what she wants to say and who her audience is, and looking at different kinds of structures she might use. We looked at the concept of psychic distance, interrogating all the threads of her story, and sought out guiding metaphors. This involved studying her comp titles, writing an annotated bibliography, and writing the jacket copy, lots of side-writing exercises that I curated for her, some RAIN meditation to support her in this difficult work, and more. 

• Another writer is working on a new project and re-considering her process. She got stuck on a particular chapter, so we looked at what might be behind that. We realized she was telling herself a story that she's wasted time since having her child and worked on ways to reframe that story so that she can see all the amazing things she has done in that time, the wisdom she's accrued, and how all of that is supporting this current project. We created what I call a "proof pudding" list and she's beginning to interview herself (as though she were being interviewed by the Times) to practice articulating her project, how she got unstuck (this allows her to workshop ways she might actually break through in this chapter), and to send subtle signals to her unconscious that she's got this. We complemented this work with some loving-kindness practice. 

These are just a few of the writers I've been working with recently - I could share so many more examples of all the unique ways writers and I roll up our sleeves to look at their individual concerns. This kind of 1:1 support is so essential for writers. Remember, we are an apprenticeship craft. And writing is FAR more collaborative than most people realize.


This is the kind of game-changing work that's worth investing in. In these calls, we look at your shadows, we dig into the tough stuff, we don't make excuses. We get concrete about solutions, about reality vs expectations. We seek to understand what parts of you are scared, holding back, protecting you from failure. We also get buzzy and generative and play jazz with your ideas and hopes and projects.


This is the closest thing to writer therapy I can think of. These calls aren't only about your writing or your career: they're about building a healthy life as a creative in this world. From relationships, to community, to personal spiritual practice, to lifestyles that support your mental health and creativity. 


If this sounds like something you need this fall....you know where to find me!

For those of you who are committed to getting a lot of writing done in this season, I thought it'd be fun to share Ursula Le Guin's writing schedule. Note that she has three hours for preparing and eating dinner and that she gets silly after hours!


Making time to care for yourself, spend time with your loved ones, and "be very stupid" is just as important as getting that writing in.


I also like that she thinks in bed for a solid 45 minutes. That's a cool process! And that she eats lots of breakfast and spends two hours on reading and music. Obviously there is no childcare here or day job, but it's a joy to see how full she allowed her life to be, isn't it? 

Here’s to joy and breakthroughs and many, many words!