Sitting in our sun room, I am drinking a summer blend coffee from Harry and David. The rain falling much of the morning is taking a break, but I can see raindrops dripping from the Japanese maple tree in the back yard. The grass so persistently shy last year is growing like mad this year, and I am glad about that. I love to see lush green replacing the dead brown patches.
A couple weeks ago, I re-discovered podcasts. I’d listened to a few awhile back when my brother-in-law was discovering all kinds of interesting things. Now, there are even more options, including two new podcasts I discovered. One is about scrapbooking, one is about size acceptance. I’ve become a subscriber to both, and I’ve spent many afternoons, walking around the neighborhood, listening and getting so absorbed in the discussions, that ninety minutes go by like nothing.
I’ve become attached to my walking time, disappointed when I can’t do it. I’m feeling inspired and rejuvenated, and I’m feeling a shift in my focus in more than one area of my life.
Yesterday, I listened to the latest episode of Paperclipping Roundtable. The special guest was Jessica Sprague, who is one of the most well-known gurus of digital scrapbooking. Digi, as it’s called in the industry, is not my cup of tea, so I was a little disappointed when I first heard Jessica was the guest. I didn’t really want to listen to a long talk about the joys of the latest digital supplies online or the hot techniques digi scrappers are using. That’s what I expected, but I was pleasantly surprised.
The discussion was about stories and how so many people are finding it important to tell their stories in a variety of ways, not limited to any specific scrapbooking technique. At one point, the panel was talking about journaling on scrapbook pages, and how difficult it is for some of us scrapbookers to do that. I was telling Daniel last night, I’ve been a writer for a long time, and I’ve done a lot of writing, but I still have trouble with simple scrapbook journaling. I usually cram it into whatever space is left after the photos and embellishments are glued down. It’s not the wrong way to do it, but I don’t like how the story of my pages is an afterthought, rather than the focus.
Jessica Sprague addressed the issue by reminding us that we never really forget to ride a bicycle, but if we haven’t ridden in ten years, and we get back on that bike, we’re going to be wobbly at first. Then she suggested getting a bound journal or a notebook and writing all the time for practice. It was one of those moments when I felt like I was being personally addressed. Do this. How much clearer can it be?
Because lately...I’ve been thinking again about writing. I’ve talked about it so much on this blog, and I’ve thought about it so much in those moments of driving to the grocery store, sweeping the floor, watching television, hearing a song I knew in high school. I always wanted to be a writer, but I’m not actually writing, and I don’t know why.
When I sit down to do Writing, the big important project, I’m stumped. Blocked, frustrated. Sentences simply don’t come together with the ease they once did. Why not? Why have I been contained behind this steel wall writer’s block for so, so long?
Not long ago, maybe a couple weeks, I tentatively picked up Natalie Goldberg’s book, Writing Down the Bones. It has always been my refresher course in inspiration. I know what it’s about. I’ve read it many times, and it always rekindles my writing spark, fans that little ember, and gets the fire lit again. Every single time, which is why I love it so much. I read the introduction, and I felt that old energy flowing through me again. The excitement of writing.
I haven’t read any more since, but I feel like the message from myself is to return to practice. Like with scrapbook pages, writing needs to be the focus of my life, not an afterthought. It has become something that languishes at the bottom of my to-do list, and it needs to be at the top, above laundry, above emails to be answered, above volunteer work, above scrapbooking. If I want to be a writer, then dammit, I need to answer the call already, quit lollygagging around, and start writing.
Every day.
Even if it’s a sentence. Even if it’s just ten minutes of practice. Even if I write, as Natalie Goldberg says, “the worst junk in America.” Because if I practice, eventually, it won’t be the worst junk. I will remember again. I will write with the proficiency that used to come easy when I was young and wrote all the time and didn’t think of it as Writing.
The point, in my life as in my scrapbooking, is to tell the story. That’s what matters.
Copyright 2010 Melissa LaFavers