grief and anxiety and writing and grace…

I often think it would be nice to be the kind of writer who could write any day, every day, no matter what was going on with life or emotions.

But I’m not.

Although I’m able to paint every day, even if life is in turmoil and the anxiety is high, I can’t do that with writing. I think it’s because, for me, writing involves some part of my mind and brain and attention that’s hard for me to access if I’m not feeling a certain amount of being settled inside myself. I don’t have to feel completely calm and settled to write, but there has to be a certain level of it that simply isn’t there when the anxiety is super high.

This definitely gets in the way of writing routines and rhythms. And it can mean writing in starts-and-stops. It can even feel as though I’m taking one step forward and two steps back.

And I have to admit that it’s discouraging. But it’s something that has been true for me throughout my decades of writing.

Even though this has consistently been the case for me, though, time and again I re-visit this issue and examine it and ask myself certain questions.

Should I push myself more? Should I force myself to be more discipled? Should I find some coping technique, even if it’s unhealthy, that numbs my feelings (whether anxiety or grief) enough that I can hear the characters and stories that want to be told through my writing?

None of those feel right for me. When the anxiety is so bad, pushing through it or pushing it aside seem impossible. And ever since the end of my long slow xanax taper, I have no desire to risk more anti-anxiety meds or even alcohol to numb. Whatever calming techniques I use or try need to be things that won’t mess with my brain and central nervous more than they’ve already been messed with (and harmed by) prescription medication.

So I keep coming back to giving myself grace. Or trying to, at least.

Giving myself grace and space and time to grieve the losses in my life. Giving myself grace and forgiveness for not meeting some self-imposed ideal of what my writing or productivity should look like. And giving myself grace and permission to honor my personal rhythms… whether that’s with my writing, or dealing with life in general, or going through a day.

And giving myself grace to do it all imperfectly.

How about you? Do you need to give yourself more grace? Do you need to do more honoring of your needs and your feelings and your rhythms?

If so, I hope you’ll do just that.

My art journaling page from early 2020 for my word-of-the-year – grace.

writing routines and rhythms…

I’ve never been good at sticking with a regular writing routine on a long-term basis. What seems to happen is that I develop a loose structure for myself, either for a period of time or for a particular project, and it works for a while.

Do I beat myself up about it and feel guilty about lacking discipline? There have definitely been times of that.

But I was recently reminded that it’s helpful for me to think about my writing routine less as a structure, and more in terms of a rhythm.

The rhythm isn’t always constant. It shifts and changes. But the beat of my writing is always there, even if it’s in the background of my life.

And when there are times I seem to lose the rhythm – which does happen – I just need to listen for it and connect to it again.

For me, that feels like a more gentle way to return to a writing routine, instead of trying to guilt and shame myself into a structure. It feels like a way of giving myself more grace. It feels more like being kind to myself – and to my writing.

And feeling that way helps me get back to writing, which connects me more to joy, and fuels my sense of purpose.

These past months, as I’ve been trying to find my way through grief and change, my writing has been quite start-and-stop. This has been a period, however, when I haven’t been beating myself up about it. I believe it’s been important to give myself the time and space I need for such major life events.

Time and space is still needed, but I’m starting to write more again. I’m also starting to feel the need and the desire for more of a regular writing routine again. More of a rhythm again.

So I’m leaning into that, and letting that desire guide the way. Not thinking of it as structure. Not thinking of it as a should.

But experimenting with times of day. Playing with flows of words. Listening for the beat of my writing and synching with its rhythm.

Connecting with the joy of it.

How about you? What helps with getting you to write? Whether it’s a structured schedule, a go-with-the-flow loose routine, or something else, the important thing is being aware of what helps you write if writing is what you want to do.

creativity every day…

Years ago, I made the decision to deliberately and intentionally stay connected to my creativity – no matter what was happening in my life. I made it my dream, my goal, to keep this relationship going on a consistent basis.

It’s true there are ebbs and flows with creative projects and the creative process in general. But even so, I believe it’s possible to stay connected with creativity. And I’ve been determined to do it… because creativity is vital to my mental and emotional well-being.

Writing, especially writing fiction, is the creative outlet with the longest pull on me. I started writing little stories with thick markers as soon as I could write sentences and put them together.

I don’t write every day, though.

For me to write fiction, I need a certain amount of feeling settled inside, and there are days the anxiety I experience (not anxiety about writing, but the daily anxiety I deal with) doesn’t calm down enough. That’s especially been the case over the past several years. And although I’m now writing more often and more consistently again, it’s not an each-and-every-day occurrence.

But there is a certain creative outlet I do on a daily basis. Whether I write or do any other creative activity on any given day, what I do each day, without fail, is paint.

Every single day.

It doesn’t have to be for a lengthy amount of time. It doesn’t need to turn into anything. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks about what I paint or how I do it.

All it requires is for me to pick up a paintbrush and move paint on canvas or paper.

That’s all.

But that’s so much.

There are days when I paint for less than five minutes. And that’s okay. There are times I paint a few hearts or circles or squares in the morning, and then paint a few more in the afternoon. That’s fine too. Sometimes I fill an entire page with paint, at other times one page represents a week’s worth of painting a small bit every day, and at other times I’ll spend weeks or more painting on a single canvas. All of that is also satisfying and good, as far as I’m concerned.

For me, it’s about the doing of it – what I call paint play – every day. Because it calms me, it helps ground me, and it brings me joy.

What creative activity does that for you? (And don’t say you’re not creative, because you are!)

Is it painting, sketching, drawing, writing, sewing, quilting, photography, pottery, cooking, calligraphy, knitting, playing an instrument? The list of possibilities is huge. Find the one (or ones) that bring you joy.

Even if you rotate through a variety of creative activities instead of sticking to just one, and even if it’s only for a few minutes when you do it, make time to connect with your creativity every day. 

It really does make a difference.