Above is a picture of me in Lyon, France, taking it slow, enjoying the moment. See that look of utter contentment on my lady face? It's not just from the delicious meal or the wine or France, or even the company (my beloved). That is my face when I give myself permission to just BE. To relax. To take a freaking knee. And until pretty recently, that wasn't happening on the regular. If you read nothing else in this post read this:
You need to be taking a sabbath once a week.
One of my new big commitments to myself is to take Saturdays off. Every week. No email. No errands. No chores. No phone. No appointments. Nothing scheduled at all, even if it's fun. No clocks. No fucks given.
NO WRITING. (Even if I'm on deadline. Seriously. NO WRITING. And the world still turns...)
On Saturdays I bask. I read books I want to, not ones I "should." I wander around my house and look at things that strike my curiosity - a photo book on Patti Smith that is always just decoration, the way the light slants through the trees in the back yard. I read poems and take walks and I don't cook unless it sounds fun, which it only is if I'm making soup.
What this has done in just a few weeks has been nothing short of astonishing. New book ideas come to me. I have a deeper connection to my creativity. I laugh more - not just on Saturdays but ALL THE DAYS. I am more mindful, catching myself during the week when I'm revving (multi-tasking, getting in that near-manic place of crossing things off lists and non-stop doing).
The best thing is that I have this delicious treat to look forward to every week, which is a balm on the hard days. I know it's there, waiting for me like a promise. I've been talking to my clients about this more and more: How can we unearth some delight? How can we give ourselves permission to really fill the well by doing absolutely nothing? How can we stop feeling guilty for just allowing ourselves to be alive and to wonder and muse and lollygag?
Mark me, friends: Your creativity needs this. And it will suffer without it.
I'm getting huge creative dividends from this combination of mindfulness, creativity exercises, and the deep inner work required of anyone who wants to write anything worth reading - I hope you are all benefitting from the Rough Draft and the meditations, too.
When you're ready to get back out there after your sabbath, you can check out my piece on how to set boundaries around your creativity.
One of the things these sabbaths have clarified for me is who I want to work with in my coaching. While I love writers of all stripes, the ones I'm drawn to working with the most are the ones who feel a deep yearning to flourish in their creativity, but just can't seem to figure it out.
If you're curious about this work, you can head over to my brand new coaching FAQ to learn more.
In the March 2020 Rough Draft, we're getting into ways you can write in the slow lane. Where are you pushing yourself too hard? How can you slow down? What would be a delicious way to bask and loll and delight in your creative self? We've got a writing exercise that Erin Morgenstern (The Night Circus) uses too. This one’s all about filling the well and being good to your writer self. Finding inner quiet. Yum, right?
You can access all archived Rough Drafts now on the Inspiration Portal, so even if you’re catching this post well beyond March 2020, I’ve got you covered. (Newsletter subscribers have the password to portal. Not a newsletter subscriber? We can fix that.)
Cheryl Strayed recently gave this piece of advice to writers, via an interview on the Beautiful Writers podcast: "Write in the slow lane." Spring is a great time to explore slowing down after all the intention setting and holiday recovery that happens in the early part of the year. It's a time to feel the bliss of rain on your face, to reach for the sun, to stretch deep into the earth and bloom.
Who's with me?
