February 21, 2024

Hello friends,

I’ve missed quite a few days. It can be frustrating how long it takes to get back into a routine when something disrupts it, but I’m trying to not let it get me down and instead pick it up again. It often feels like learning the same lessons over and over again, but it does get a bit easier every time, especially when I’m able to let go of my frustration or anger at myself faster.

As I’ve been trying to reset my routine and get back into the swing of things, I’ve been realizing some things that I naturally prioritize and others that I want to prioritize, but haven’t fully internalized yet. I need things to be tidy. I am pretty easily able to keep our bedroom, the living room, and our dining room tidy, but I really struggle with the kitchen. I know I need to be in a tidy space to read or write, so I’ve been working on letting things be good enough and just being creative in the spaces that are clear, because if I clean the whole house first the day gets away from me.

I’ve been thinking a lot about what I need in order to sustain an artistic practice. I want that to be a priority and consistent no matter what disrupts my routine. One of the wonderful things about writing is that it takes up such little space in your luggage. I’ve long gotten past the point where I relied on random inspiration to sit down and write, but I have been thinking about how to cultivate openness and receptiveness. What are the habits that set me up well? What are the rituals that get me in the right frame of mind? How can I build those cues into my day?

I love all sorts of storytelling, but I’ve noticed that some inspire me more than others. While I enjoy watching TV, even the most artistic and well-made show won’t inspire me to create myself. It will entertain me and I will get a lot of pleasure out of it, but that isn’t the same thing as inspiration.

I love books. I love audiobooks just as much as I love reading a physical book, but something about words on a page makes me want to write and gets my brain going in a way that listing to a story just doesn’t. Reading on an e-reader is more inspiring than an audiobook, but not as inspiring as a physical book. And a physical book that I’m allowed to write in helps me get my creative juices going best of all, because I will write all over the margins, underline things, and write story ideas and thoughts on any blank pages and interior covers. (As a side note, one of my favorite memories from high school is the books that would circulate in our friend group where entire conversations happened in the margins between all of us as we shared our thoughts about what we were reading.)

I’ve also noticed that having a consistent mindfulness practice really helps me notice details in the world to use in my writing. I think writing is very embodied for me. My best writing (and my favorite writing to read from others) is full of sensory details. That, as best as I can tell, is what makes something “showing not telling,” to lean on that old writing advice cliché. (I always found that one very confusing before I made the connection to sensory and visceral details. Before I thought showing is what I was doing.) To really notice the sensory details in the world, I need to be really embodied. I need to be connected to my senses in a way that when I am in pain, physical or emotional, is hard to do and counterintuitive.

Another thing I find as frustrating as having to learn the same lesson over and over again is that often that lesson is that the things that feel hardest are exactly what you need to do to feel better. One of the best ways to manage all types of pain is a mindfulness practice, but I face a lot of resistance from myself when I try to connect with my body in pain.

I’ve been playing with this as a writing warm up: describing in as much sensory detail as I can an object or moment that I experienced that day or the day before. It has surprisingly also worked well as a mindfulness practice. I find myself being more aware and observant during the day thinking, “will I write about how these lilies came back to life and opened up wider when I switched out their water,” “will I write about how it feels to have an allergic reaction while giving my dog a bath,” or even “how will I write about this intimate moment in all of its tenderness and silliness.” I love how it makes me more observant. In those moment I try to practice not narrating because that takes me away from the sensory experience of the moment and instead to just experience.

I think we often default to thinking of any mindfulness practice as sitting and trying to fully clear the mind, or sitting and focusing on the breath, or maybe if we are feeling frisky, doing slow and gentle movements while not thinking or thinking only about breathing. All of these are really wonderful tools, but I wonder, what in your life opens you up to awareness and experience? For my mom and me, another thing that makes us feel more alive and aware is swing dancing.

I find inspiration comes from habits and consistency. Inspiration itself is hard work. It takes practice to develop the habits that keep you open, but this kind of inspiration, this kind of keen awareness and connection between myself and the world is what makes writing and any arts practice so deeply satisfying and rewarding to me. Another lesson I keep having to relearn is that while I love to share my writing, and I would love to earn an income from just my art, ultimately I write for pleasure and for myself. When I forget that, inspiration fails me. When I remember that, inspiration is everywhere.

Take 5-15 minutes and write about

What inspires you?

Your friend,
Laura