*sigh* All done, my friends.
She sits back, breathes deeply, and looks around in satisfaction.
The house is no more of a pigsty than usual.
Meals were planned and cooked, laundry completed, child chaufferred, workout routine maintained (other than during travel). AND SHE GOT TO BED ON TIME MOST NIGHTS. That may have been the greatest accomplishment–the first NaBlo in 9 attempts that did not cost 30 days of sleep and physical health. WIN.
Another month of daily extemporaneous writing in the books.
Observations, Learnings, Applications
After all this time, I can finally admit and embrace that I am a Night Writer. I can put down anybody else’s advice to get up early and do it in the morning, or even during my days off. That’s just not me. All-nighters are not me, either. My ideal writing time seems to be around 9-11pm. Looking ahead, this feels like a doable schedule for the book. Like workouts, I can aim for 5 nights a week and plan ahead each weekend, so there is routine with flexibility, and long term consistency.
I feel self-conscious writing too much about myself–my own stories, thoughts, feelings, ‘musings’. Navel gazing. Who wants to read that every day? But this desire to connect my own experiences to others’, to make meaning and touch on a larger, more resonant scale–where can I start but with my own lived history? And the ‘lesson’ parts can really come across as pedantic, no? So, I can look for ways to improve my storytelling and delivery, be both personable and knowledgeable–relatable. I want the book to feel like the best clinical encounter–query, intake, reflection, suggestion, action plan, follow up–connecting, learning, empowering, and always forward moving.
Practice makes better. The words are in there, and they don’t have to be fully formed or organized before pulling them out to the page or keyboard. Like icing out of a squeeze bag, ideas and expressions will take shape depending on temperature, pressure, movement, and tip. But regardless of the conditions, output is needed. It can be reshaped later; I just need to sit down regularly and squish it out in the first place. I’ got this.
Though I chose the 30 NaBlo topics a bit haphazardly, they were all meaningful, and the order in which some of them emerged felt organic as I wrote each day. If I were to continue, I’d add curiosity, kindness, and generosity to the list. Redundant, I know. The longer I write this blog, the more times I repeat myself and refer back to pieces I wrote years ago. And it’s okay. It’s just taken me this long to convince myself that I have something useful and relevant, something timeless to contribute, a thing worth amplifying. I had to build up the confidence, make it strong and solid. Now I’m ready.
Writing a book will be different from a blog, and now I have accumulated enough of both discipline and surrender to let some good writing flow from the deeper places. An image of volcanic magma emerges–not spewing in great explosions with atmosphere-darkening ash clouds, but a slow, burbling ooze, hot a pliable, soft and layered, unstoppable yet unobtrusive, solidifying over time to create new islands, smooth and round rather than jagged, places where we can stand together quietly in wonder and explore, from whence new perspective and understanding may grow.
Many thanks to all who have followed along this month. Could the post titles have been more boring? Overall it was not my best published output, but the intent all along was to use this month as personal and public writing lab for book work prep. It feels to me like time and energy well spent, worth the effort, and work I will refer back to often. Now to find the new routine, book and blog juxtaposition/integration? A fun new fork on the writing trail, yay! Or ooo, maybe a convergence. I trust it will all work out, unfold, and emerge in good time and space. Can’t wait.
Healing Through Connection 