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Rutland, VT Writers Groups – updated 9/12

Posted in Workshop Offered, Writing & Career, tagged , on September 13, 2012 | 2 Comments »

Please help me (and our fellow writers) by letting me know about your Vermont writing group or conference.

When we first moved back to Vermont I was trying to find a writer’s group to connect with and it wasn’t easy. I did eventually find one through some round-about internet and email networking. Yesterday I noticed someone found my blog by searching for “Rutland, VT writer’s groups” which made me think I should do an informational post. I would love to meet more writers in this area, so if you are reading this post because you are searching for a group of like-minded people, please contact me!

I will add more as I discover them and if anyone would like to add to this list, please feel free to leave the info in the comments.

Poultney, Vermont

Horace Greeley Writer’s Guild: Meet on a not-so regular monthly basis in Poultney or Middletown Springs, VT: Wednesday 7-9PM. Free and open to the public. [As of Nov. 2011, this group has not met for a while, however the conference is still scheduled annually.]

Diverse group that meets, sometimes eats, and chats about writing.

Annual conference in October.

Brandon, Vermont

Brandon Writer’s Group (Unofficial name),: Meets irregularly and geared toward YA writers. By invitation due to space limitations.

Rutland, Vermont

Chaffee Art Center Writer’s Group, Chaffee Art Center. (802) 775-0356. Meets Fridays 11AM-1PM. By donation.

COMING SOON: Monthly writing group to be held at The Writers’ Room at Allen House. (802) 747.0761. Details to be announced. Also coming to The Writers’ Room: Open Writers’ Hours with free wi-fi.

Shushan, New York

Dionondehowa Writer’s Group/Retreat, Meets Tuesdays 7-9PM. Cost $15. Annual retreat in July.

Manchester, Vermont

Northshire Bookstore, Wednesday evenings. Call 800-437-3700 and ask for Sarah.

League of Vermont Writers

www.leaguevtwriters.org, Writer’s Conference annually in July.

White River Junction, Vermont

The Writer’s Center, Offers workshops and classes on a variety of writing topics.

Tinmouth, Vermont

Green Mountain Writers Conference Annually in August

_______

Please visit my Examiner.com page for articles on Journaling for Kids, Organization and almost everything in between.

Private coaching - Customized to help you re-INK your own life – available in person or via email.

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The Elevator Pitch the Write Way

Posted in Journaling Techniques & Prompts, Writing & Career, tagged , , on July 23, 2012 | 1 Comment »

You’ve probably heard the term Elevator Pitch. According to Wikipedia, it’s “a short summary used to quickly and simply define a product, service, or organization… [and] should be possible to deliver the summary in the time span of an elevator ride, or approximately thirty seconds to two minutes.”

At one Goddard College graduate residency we played on this idea in a getting-to-know-you exercise. We had to walk across the room and tell someone in about 30 seconds with no prep what questions we were researching (Goddard’s Individualized MA program is all independent study). It was very helpful for me to have to summarize the myriad ideas I was looking into and state my one main point of query. One year and much research and writing later, I find I need to do this again. The Elevator Pitch for both my research and my memoir synopsis is rambling around in my head and has become more of an “… and Into the Lobby and out onto the Sidewalk Pitch.”

I saw this link today to a news story from Fox 44 news in Burlington, Vermont posted by The League of Vermont Writers: New Writers Pitch to Literary Agents.

It recounts the League’s recent Writers Meet Agents Event at its biennial conference in Burlington, where wannabe authors pitched their ideas to literary agents in a kind of “speed dating” process. Just reading about this made my stomach turn. I immediately thought, “What on earth would I say (without coming across as a bumbling idiot)???”

Time to get out my journal.

Here’s how one way to focus your ideas, not just for others to understand exactly what it is you do all day, but, maybe more importantly, for you to focus. It gives you a way to gather the harvest of fresh imaginings, colorful memories and juicy research nibblets, and then single out what you need to make the tonight’s dinner (i.e. book, essay, project, etc.).

1. Write down ALL your ideas, angles/layers, questions or descriptions of your project.

Write them in no particular order. Maybe mind-map them. Draw lines between connected concepts. (A huge piece of paper and colored pens might come in useful.) (And, warning! Whole new connections and ideas may arise while doing this.)

2. Circle or make a list of which words, phrases or themes come up most often.

Put the top ranked word/theme (or top two or three, if they are close) at the top of a blank page.

3. Just write!

Start with a prompt such as, “My book is about…” “I am studying…” “The premise of my thesis…” “The theme of my memoir is…,” and free write non-stop for five minutes (don’t stop even if it means writing in ums and ahhhs or oh crap, I have no idea what I’m writing-s!) However, you may find that after mind-mapping all your ideas, your writing flows easier.

4. Chop. Dice. Boil down. Spice up.

Re-write until you have two or three sentences that concisely, creatively, and above all, passionately describe what you are writing (but please leave out the adverbs!).

5. Say it out loud.

Read what you’ve written and then practice saying it until it sounds natural, as if you have such complete and utter clarity about your work (which you do now, right?) that you are just able to reel it off without thinking. Time yourself to make sure it is within the thirty second to two minute range.

6. P.S.  This technique doesn’t have to apply to just writing.

Think Personal Mission Statements. Artist Statements. Life choices even. (You don’t need to end up with blurb/pitch for this one unless you want to, but the process of whittling down options can still be used.) Whenever you have a sense of confusion, overwhelm, and/or lack of clarity, get it ALL on paper and let the pen do its magic.

Photo credit: d3designs from morguefile.com

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Trust your pen

Posted in Journaling Techniques & Prompts, Living Authentically, Looking for the Spiritual, Writing & Career, tagged , , , on December 2, 2011 | 5 Comments »

I have to share a beautiful experience that speaks to the power of the pen to tap into something deeper and older than we can explain.

This morning I was reading The Chalice and the Blade by Riane Eisler. I won’t go into all the emotions this book arouses in me but I cannot emphasize strongly enough that EVERY woman in the world – and every man who was born from the body of a beautiful woman – should read this book. I’m sure I will touch on this some more in the future. However, the point is, as I sat here by the fire contemplating the repercussions of Eisler’s words, I suddenly realized what I had to do.

With my life.

Yeah, kind of a big deal.

Of course, I rushed to my journal to talk this epiphany through, to make sure I had heard my heart correctly. And yes, I had. My whole life, from the family and church I was born into, to the thesis I wrote as an undergrad, to writing a journal for the past 20-odd years, to teaching, to my Goddard Master’s degree program – all have led me to this place, right now. My eyes have been opened and I now have a responsibility to do something with the knowledge I have been given.

But here is the actual point of this post: As I put the period at the end of the final sentence of my journal entry, I wrote in big letters, SHALOM. That’s strange, I thought, why would I write a Hebrew word when the Hebrew Bible was what caused most of this trouble [i.e. the suppression of women] in the first place? So, I looked it up. Here’s what I read:

Shalom also means completeness, wholeness, health, peace, welfare, safety soundness, tranquility, prosperity, perfectness, fullness, rest, harmony, the absence of agitation or discord. Shalom comes from the root verb shalom meaning to be complete, perfect and full. (via http://www.therefinersfire.org/meaning_of_shalom.htm)

By speaking out about how and why we as a species became so unbalanced psychologically and spiritually, it is the point of my thesis work and my teaching to help others on their own quest for wholeness to feel “complete, perfect and full.”

Shalom, indeed.

So, trust your pen. Write what it wants to write. You know more than you know you know.

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Gotta dance!

Posted in Journaling Techniques & Prompts, Living Authentically, Memoir, tagged , , on November 28, 2011 | 1 Comment »

When I was a very little girl I loved to dance. Once a week my Nana would take me to the Senior Center (which in England I think they used to call the Old Age Pensioner’s Club – nice) so I could gavotte around for their entertainment. I loved it. And I almost killed my other grandmother when I was three. As I straddle-hopped the footstool and jumped around in a frenzied expression of Spanish Calypso, dear old Gran would be nearly asphyxiated with laughter. Once a year Gran would take me to the International Dance Festival where dancers from around the world would twirl and stomp, sashay and jig. I absorbed the colors and fabrics and rhythms like Weetabix does milk. Watching Fame! was the highlight of my week. For at least an hour after the show I was still flinging myself around the house.

When I was a teenager, my happy-drug of choice was a mixed tape of Salt-N-Pepa, Vanilla Ice (Ice, Baby), and whatever else allowed me to attempt my horrendous version of the “Running Man.” (My other upper – or downer if I needed a good cry – was to drive in the car singing at the top of my lung to Les Miserables or Phantom of the Opera as they blared from the less than sufficient speakers.) Later in life I tried belly-dancing for a little while, but once I had passed the age of “going out dancing” I kind of forgot – or ignored – my love for dancing.

But once in a while I’ll remember. I still have CDs of African, Indian, Persian, and other highly rhythmic music. When that music starts it’s no good trying to keep me still! Taiko or African drumming gets my blood pumping, and I now have discovered Pandora… Bollywood and Zumba, baby! Try dancing with a straight face… I dare ya!

What we loved as a child, when we are naturally authentic,  is always a key to what can make us more content as adults. And the bonus here is, as I have discovered through my graduate studies,* is that using our bodies helps with creativity and inspiration. Contrary to the believe of our head/mind/thought-focused culture, our best ideas usually come from somewhere other than the noggin. It’s as if movement and deeper breathing knocks loose the memories and creativity locked in our unconscious. This is our body wisdom.

My mood lifts and I am able to write and concentrate with more ease after I have gotten myself some rhythm. And my love-handles appreciate it too.

Prompt: When I was a child, I loved to…

*Three books in particular: Writing Begins with the Breath, Writing from the Body, and The Spirituality of the Body.

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An open letter to those who are human

Posted in Healing, Journaling Techniques & Prompts, Living Authentically, tagged , , , , , , , , , on November 19, 2011 | 4 Comments »

C.P. Estes (author of Women Who Run With the Wolves) always addresses her readers as “Dear Brave Souls.” I do not know her exact reasoning for this but I can guess that she knows how much courage it takes to live in this world, to face the pains and heartbreaks, unknowns and setbacks. But even more than this, it takes a strong heart to live as a “wild” woman (or man), that is, one who steps out from behind the mask – our persona – shadow and all. It takes strength to live authentically, saying what we truly know, doing what we truly love, and loving how we need to be loved. So, taking a page from the book of the beautiful soul, Ms. Estes, I too shall address my readers so.

Dear Brave Souls:

I am not a psychologist but I am lucky enough to be human. I have my very own persona, ego, unconscious, authentic voice – and shadow. I have to live with myself on a daily basis and I know that I am far from perfect. But no one is! There is no such thing! I have biases, I make unjust judgements, I have anger, I have selfishness, and I also project the unwanted, uncomfortable, painful, most repressed parts of myself onto others. But I also have love and concern and hope and dreams. And I believe it is my responsibility while on this human-life quest for self-actualization – on the path of my potential – to choose love over judgement. And to be honest with and to myself. Every aspect of myself.

I doubt there is a soul in this beautiful but confusing world who does not have anger in their heart. Everyone of us have had experiences that hurt us deeply – tragically. We cannot compare one person’s pain to another. Each of us is a medley of our experiences which blend to make us the unique beings we are. Yes, we are angry, we feel rage sometimes, but these are the voices of our past. They are old recordings from our frightened egos which try to keep us safe from things no longer a threat. But our heart, our soul, knows the truth.

All emotions are messages. Anger is a particularly strong message. And those we are angry at, our mirrors. We must look at – and accept – our anger because, yes!, it is real and should not be denied or ignored. But look at it closely. Look in that mirror. There, peering back at us, are the dark parts of us we’d rather not know (and of which we may not even be aware). That is our Shadow. It tells us things about another person or event that have nothing to do with them. We are not angry with them, we are angry with ourselves. It is our own pain speaking.

Smile at those silly shadows because they are tricksters, making us believe in illusion. The reality is there can be no shadow if there is no light! 

So our Shadows are also there to teach - if we are willing to learn. We must listen to our Shadow – it is there in that scary place that we will also discover our Light. We cannot be whole until we can integrate the dark with the light (just think of the moon).

And we have tools* to help. We have the ability to listen to our true strength, our inner wisdom, our higher self, for it knows the truth. We have to listen hard and with an open mind – it may not tell us what we are used to hearing. But it is our own truth – our own healing truth. It is our truth that can take our rage and turn it to proactive outrage. It is our truth that can take our pain and turn it to strength and compassion.

We are all in this together – everyone of us. And we must forgive those who, like us, are also learning to listen to their truth and inner wisdom.

*One of these tools is to write. Expressive journaling – meaning, to write freely without thinking or editing – this accesses deeper wisdom and allows us to discover our own truth. Once we become aware – and accept – our own truth we live more authentically, and therefore, with more joy.

Prompt: One truth I know is…

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Natural Wisdom – in verse

Posted in Healing, Looking for the Spiritual, tagged , , , , , on November 18, 2011 | Leave a Comment »

These poems were written by a participant in one of my recent workshops, Natural Wisdom: Writing as Spiritual Voice. They are Alphapoems written in response to prompts while listening to sounds from nature. As you will read, not all are directly related to nature, but this is an example of the wonder and power of expressive writing: If you open yourself to the writing process, what wants/needs to be expressed will be. The author remarked that she was not expecting these words to come out, “they just kinda did!”

Thank you for your generosity for sharing them with us!

Poems by Gwendoline James

THE STORM

Dark skies releasing themselves of pent-up heat,

Inspired by Thor;  continual rumblings then stomach-churning crashes.

Straight rain falling to earth with relentless power,

Threatening all beneath its touch without regard,

Analogy for washing clean, washing away,

Never heeding any demands to stop.

Clean, so clean, until it hits earth, rivers, fields, then mud and torrents and flood and devastation.

Eternal rain……… or so it seems at this moment.

MOTHER LOST

Gone before I knew you, like the

Wind, blowing through and leaving

Emptiness, which I

Never recognized until the need to know you became

Dominant  in my later life.

Open my heart to the memories I do not have.  I want to hear you

Laugh, cry, talk ……why did

Illness take you away so that I

Never knew you, felt your warmth, heard your voice, fed off your

Energy, which was all spent by the time you gave me life.

SIDMOUTH

Soothing my fears, calming my thoughts, in this

Idyllic place.

Damp seaweed gently sweeping between my toes, the

Mouth of the river opening itself into the

Ocean.  What powerful secrets lie

Under your white crests;  your dark teal depths reflecting the

Turmoil of my mind before I came to stand in awe at your edge

Happy for the seagulls overhead and for your cleansing, incessant water to wash over my feet and

recede again into itself.

– Gwendoline James

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A turret and some (alone) time

Posted in Journaling Techniques & Prompts, Living Authentically, Writing & Career, tagged , , , on November 15, 2011 | 12 Comments »

I’m sitting in my new Writer’s Turret, as I am calling it. It’s actually just a small room we recently created by putting up a dividing wall in our son’s large bedroom. It is a north-facing room and I was concerned that I would feel the lack of light. But with my desk directly next to the window, looking out over the porch roof onto our residential street, the result is unexpectedly and pleasantly, well, turret-y. I don’t know why I have always fancied myself writing in a turret, it seems very Jane Austen (that’s probably the wrong author – I am embarrassingly unversed in English Lit) or Shakespeare-ish, I guess. I imagined I could be both artistically tortured and prolific in a turret. And alone.

For me, the image of a turret conquers up feelings – glorious feelings – of solitude. Creative solitude. I dream daily of being alone, just me and my words. Emotions, sensations, experiences – intangibles – forming themselves into words and sentences that I might grasp them, hold them, and understand them as best I can. Of course, I don’t need a turret for this, just a writing implement. But solitude? Now that’s an essential.

In one essay I wrote: “In my early twenties the vision of my future life included only the patter of fingers on the keyboard, not that of tiny feet. My imaginary writer’s turret didn’t come equipped with a safety gate.” In one recent workshop which I facilitated, one woman lamented that mothers cannot be fully creative, not because our brains have atrophied, but because of all the demands placed on us. Sadly, unless we can afford, or would be willing to commit to, full-time child-care and/or house-keeping, a mother does not have the luxury to create at her fullest potential. Even with my children out of the home to their respective educational institutions either 3 or 6 hours a day, I find my ability to write (or study for grad school) hampered. I have tried rising extremely early (4AM) and I loved the mental acuity of that time of day. But by Wednesday evening after all the housework, sibling-refereeing, taxiing, errands, etc. etc. etc., I wasn’t fit to be anyone’s mother or companion, let alone write.

I’m not good at grabbing moments. I’m a slow writer. I ponder each word and then go back and ponder it again. This analyzing (self-criticism?) can make a short blog post last the entire length of a Pre-K session. Suddenly I am having to abandon my treasure-trunk of words, ripping myself away mid-sentence to fly out the door to become Mom again. And take today: I have the flu (or something else icky but not bed-riddening). I am home with no demands for the day because after Pre-K my mother (bless her) is taking my son. But Hubby asked that we use this opportunity to do some important paperwork. So I delayed my writing, but then the phone rang and I sat for almost an hour waiting for him to get off the phone. (You know that infuriating situation when you’re meeting someone who’s late and you don’t know whether to leave because they might come right now… or maybe now…? Waiting for him to get off the phone any moment was like that.)

And so goes my life, it seems. I want to write, I love to write, I need to write, but I don’t write (much). I have responsibilities and always the question: should I be doing this or that? what is more important – the clothes or the blog post? And it is this constant questioning – deciding – that is part of the mental exhaustion (links to a NYT article). I love writing so much that I want to dedicate myself to it fully, not some half-hearted minute or two here and there, and so I don’t commit, because I can’t.

But I must. Because by not writing I am forsaking my own soul. My vision of a writer’s turret was just a symbol of my highest need: To be alone with “pen” in hand, scratching away, whittling words – the only tools I have – to make sense of my self and this world.

My turret is finally here. And today is “I Love to Write Day” and I do. So I am. And I will. Will you?

(And as I finish writing this I see this post on FB from Julia Cameron: “Time is what we all need more of–or do we? Time can be chiseled out of the busiest life by replacing our worrying with doing.” Ah, Synchronicity.)

Prompt: If we believe our visions and imaginings are symbols of deep (or higher) yearnings – from our authentic self – what is your “turret”?

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Hungry fingers. Or, What brings you joy.

Posted in Journaling Techniques & Prompts, Living Authentically, tagged , on October 17, 2011 | Leave a Comment »

This is going to be one of those posts where I just start writing in order to figure out what I’m going to write about. Which, dear writerly friends, is a very good way to start writing. Just write something. Anything. You’ll get where you need to go in just a little while.

October has been and continues to be insane: I have been preparing for six workshops and have facilitated four so far.  And I haven’t been writing, either in my journal or more formally. But I miss writing. I love writing. I need writing. I wrote on my Facebook and Twitter status that I feel disconnected when I haven’t been writing. Others agreed and also described feeling Uncentered and Grief-struck. What is it about writing that provokes such emotion? Such attachment?

For me writing is my true voice. It is the expression of my true self. Which is why after an arid writing period I begin to feel disconnected from my self. I don’t know another way to describe it, it just feels as if I am drifting through my days, not wholly taking part in each moment. I lose track of feelings. Even my dreams of late have been chaotic, frantic, and immediately forgotten upon waking. I’ve lost touch with my what makes me, well, me.

Today, thanks to an “assignment” given by a newspaper editor at the writers’ conference at which I presented this past Saturday, I had the push I needed to put fingers to keys. It was a short piece and not the kind of thing I usually write, but I loved punching out words and sentences, pushing them around until they clicked together exactly as I wanted. It was also the first day we had a fire – and what writer doesn’t envision themselves writing by a fire? It was a good day. Deadline met, fingers hungry for more word-punching. Hungry for self-connection.

At my workshop yesterday, we had a discussion about how we all have the self-sabotaging tendency to do exactly not the things we love. Why do we avoid the things that being us joy? Why are we always too busy, too “I’ve got to do this first,” too tired, too… ? Do we like being unhappy? Uncentered? Grief-struck?

Personally, I don’t.

Prompt: Write a list of the things that bring you joy. Are you doing any of them? Why not? Do one now.

(I must credit my dear friend and colleague, Sue – whose birthday it happens to be today – for that prompt and question, which she often puts to her own clients.)

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I write to know I Am

Posted in It's all About Me, Living Authentically, Writing & Career, tagged , , on July 12, 2010 | 1 Comment »

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The following post is recycled. I happened upon it this morning and it seemed appropriate today to re-post. I have been evaluating my Purpose lately and bottom line is: I need to write. I have no choice in this matter, it is my calling, my need, my salvation. Denying it would be like dragging my spirit along a dirt road; after not too long it would battered, bruised and bleeding.

~~~

It’s not like I write anything personal…

This was me defending my blog. The reaction from a family member was one of disbelief. Griping about my life and sharing my children’s antics is apparently way out of the comfort zone for some. But for me, the day-to-day mundanity of my existence on this planet – the struggles and the milestones – are not anything I am ashamed of or feel the need to hide. In fact, I need to share it, whether anyone reads it or not, so I know that I am alive and here for a reason.

At a family gathering this past weekend there was a discussion about the personal nature and vulnerability of art and various other occupations. Among the nine adults present were two writers, five artists/designers, three teachers, two hairdressers, a nurse, two counselors, and a preacher (most of us were some combination of these). It was agreed that the very act of creating of any kind is a bearing of the soul. The teachers/preachers/counselors also felt the vulnerability of their trade as they tell of their own experience to help others with theirs.

… hanging one of my paintings on the wall is like standing up naked in front of everyone…

When I write it is me that goes into those words. Me is all I know. So, on that plane the very act of writing is intimately personal. When you read my blog you are tasting my essence. And I am willing to give this to you. If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be a writer.

When I open the pages of a magazine like Brain, Child I am sometimes astounded by the honesty of the writing. These women lay their very souls down on the page and allow us, the readers, to poke around in their humanity. But it is this very vulnerability that allows us to understand we are not alone – and there’s always someone worse off than us. Recently, a mother told of being arrested for child neglect when she left her pre-teens at the mall with some younger siblings. I have to admit, I myself was surprised, as were many other readers. Consequently, the author has been sorely criticized (beyond reason in some cases) and her story has spread throughout the media channels. She took a chance with the honest telling of her story and suffered for it. At this point in my life I would not have the guts to tell the truth quite so, well, truthfully.

But there is a need for me to tell you things. I feel compelled to. Although, you’re not the one(s) I am speaking to primarily – it is myself. I re-live, assess, and understand my life by putting it into words. Anais Nin wrote,

We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospection.

I remember reading this in my early 20s and understanding exactly what she meant – I have to record my life to better live and appreciate it. The fact that I have allowed you, my readers, into my world and and believe you care is an arrogance. But it is also a yearning for community. I want to share the truth as I see it so I might connect with others who see it the same way – or don’t, but have another, equally valid opinion.

We all yearn to belong, to be a part of something, to believe someone cares about our lives. The meaningful conversations where we actually talk about the way we feel are, in general, missing from our everyday lives. We feel judged and ashamed of the way we feel (we can’t help the way we feel) and so we hide behind brainless chatter. I believe this is why Facebook, Twitter, and texting are so popular. But unfortunately, it has gone to extremes: I don’t care if you are going to the store to buy toilet paper and I didn’t really need to read that a FB friend had “afternoon delight.”

There is a quote from C.S. Lewis that I read when younger which really spoke to me:

We read to know we are not alone.

So I write for those who read so they may know they are not alone. I write to know I have purpose. I write to understand myself. I write to feel alive. And if I happen to inspire someone or help them feel less alone along the way then I have done my job as a writer.

_______

Please visit my Examiner.com page for articles on Journaling for Kids, Organization and almost everything in between.

Private coaching - Customized to help you re-INK your own life – available in person or via email.

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Quoting Christina: We write.

Posted in Life, Home & Community, Living Authentically, Writing & Career, tagged , , on July 7, 2010 | 4 Comments »

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What I think we are up to, we throngs of journal-writing pilgrims, is reclamation. We are searching for ways to reclaim a sense of place, a sense of empowerment, a sense of healthy relationship between our lives and our times. We look for whatever can help us make sense of the moment. We Write. (Christina Baldwin, Life’s Companion)

Dear Ms. Baldwin (may I call you Christina? I feel we are already friends):

Reading this quote today, I choked up. I’ve read it before and jotted it down for future reference but today it hit me, right in the chest. You see, Christina, I have gotten myself all in a tizzy.

I am working very hard to establish myself in this world. A very new world. A world of self-employment, in a unstable economy, in an unusual but emerging field: Transformational Language Arts. Most days I feel I am just shouting at the sky, HEY! People! I think you might want to listen to what I have to say! I can help you. Won’t you let me help you? I realize it will take time for society to see the value in the work I and my expressive writing colleagues are doing. But I network, I email, I provide free services, I blog, I Twitter, I Facebook, I Examine and still I see so little response. Many times I wonder why I keep doing it.

Despite this, on most days I still feel positive because I know in my heart that I am doing the right thing. I believe in what I teach and I know I can help people. I also know that those who need me the most will find me.

But the truth is, Christina, I’m tired. I’m overwhelmed by this monster I have birthed. I can’t just walk away from the little corner of the internet I now call my own. But it is pulling me under. My children, writing, time, energy, fun… these things are left floating above me while I drown in a social-media flood of my own making. I need to get back to the surface, catch a breath, gain balance and hold on tight to what I value and love – because ultimately it is these things that will get me back to shore.

But there is one thing I have not lost or neglected in this vortex: my journal. Each night and morning I fall on its pages as one falls into bed, exhausted and in need of rejuvenation. In particularly difficult moments I physically crave the respite I find there. My anxiety is high until I can sit with my journal on my lap and pour out my petty fears.

Because – yes! Christina – I am searching to reclaim. I need to reclaim my peace of mind, my self-confidence, my sense of who I am in this world when everything has become a little bit crazy. I am trying to re-find the “why” when I have gotten lost in the “how” and “when.”  Looking for the path of Purpose and Meaning again when I have veered off into the jungle of Productivity and Profit.

I write. And I reclaim myself. And when I reclaim myself I also know I am meant to write. My authentic self is a writer. And so, Christina, I chose to write to you today to thank you for your meaningful, powerful words, but also for the pure pleasure of stringing words together – an act that both calms and re-energizes me. And when I place the final period I will know I am doing the right thing. To be given the privilege to teach others the incredible power of writing is worth every effort to be able to do so.

Thank you,

joanna

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