the kindred project: day 6 (nine with meredith winn)

The Kindred Project: 12 Days of Light and Yes is about sharing our stories of light and hope. The moments where we said "yes" to choosing beauty in the midst of it all. The moments where we stood in our own light. The moments where we saw someone else choose hope. The moments where another became our teacher and where we taught ourselves. Read more about the project and share your own stories in this post. During these 12 days, I am sharing a few of the lights along my path that have pushed me and taught me and held me in the midsts of it all. 

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The world of blogging has brought so many lights into my world in the form of many incredible women who are living their lives wide and deep. They are dancing and resting and being as they walk paths of realness and grief and hope and joy. They teach me as they share their stories. The Nine series has become a way for me to interview a few of these people in a way that teaches all of us about how they see their worlds in this moment. Today, I am rebooting this series a bit with a slightly new set of questions. Look for more Nine interviews in the months to come.

Today's Nine interview is with Meredith Winn. Oh how this woman shares pieces of beauty and truth through her words and photography. Every time I visit her blog, she deeply inspires me with her courage, and even though our stories are different, she has this way of pushing me to know that I am not alone. I am so thankful our paths have crossed and am delighted that she agreed to kick off the Nine series reboot.

Enjoy this peek into Meredith's story.

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Question 1: Who are you?

 

Question 2: In this moment, where are you?

 

Question 3: What are the textures of your corner of the world?

 

Question 4: If you had an hour alone to just play, what would you do?

 

Question 5: How do you seek joy?

Question 6: What nourishes you?

 

Question 7: When you need to simply take a breath and ground yourself, what do you do?

 

Question 8: How do you nurture your creative dreams?

 

Question 9: Does your heart have a secret wish you want to share?

 

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Meredith Winn is a sometimes writer and an everyday photographer. Meredith’s creative nonfiction has been published in various magazines including Midwifery Today, Motherverse, Literary Mama, Hip Mama, and a forthcoming issue of Mothering Magazine. Her photography has been on exhibit in TX, VT, and NYC. Meredith is a contributing editor and photographer to Shutter Sisters and is also a contributing photographer for Getty Images. Her photography portfolio can be found online. She is a somewhat elusive (and sporadic) blogger found at the~spirit~of~the~river. Meredith drinks chai tea, parents
mindfully, embraces this human existence, and will always be a camera shy momma. You can find her on twitter (@camerashymomma).

(All photos copyright Meredith Winn.)

*****

Nine is an interview series with creative folks that began in the Spring of 2009; the interviewees are asked to respond to the interview questions in photographs (or video). You can scroll through all the interviews here.

a woman and her prompts

even a photo can be a writing prompt . gearhart, oregon . august 2010

If you have been visiting this space since the beginning or you have read Inner Excavation, you know I love prompts. Like big time. I even used to co-lead a site that was about weekly poetry prompts. I love to use prompts in my creative work, and I really, really love to come up with prompts. Yep. Love them.

And I especially love writing prompts. They give my mind, my crazy "can't slow down for one minute because then the ideas would not be swirling about and oh i should probably try to keep figuring myself out and think about why others do things and wait! what is for breakfast today oh we are out of eggs" mind, a focus.

Prompts give my mind a rest so my heart (where my most waiting to be told stories reside) can write. 

So you can imagine my, well, shock when I discovered that my good friend and fellow writer and editor Jenna McGuiggan did not like prompts.

When we first talked about them a couple years ago, I can hardly remember what was said because I spent most of the time with my face scrunched in this weird look that was saying, "How can you not like prompts? I can't even hear what you are saying because I am stuck where you said, 'Oh, I hate prompts.'" (As I type this, my face is doing it again.) When I snapped out of that scrunched-up disbelief, I began a crusade of sorts to explain why I love prompts. But more importantly, why I believe prompts are something we should all keep in our creative toolbox.

Jenna wrote about her relationship with prompts on her blog last week, and when I read her post, I wanted to share her every word here in this space. Because, well, because she is really good at creating prompts, and I want my readers (and the creative souls working through Inner Excavation) to know about her next session of Alchemy Daily (which I loved taking in February). But, I also really wanted you to read about why Jenna has (mostly) changed her mind and now believes prompts are a good thing. Her perspective makes me smile big time.

Jenna's post, "Writing Prompts: My love-hate relationship," follows:

*****

"I don't give prompts. The world is your prompt!"

So said the writer leading my workshop.

And I thought, "Yes, yes! Real writers don't need to be told what to write. I am an artiste! The world is my prompt!"

And then I realized that I've routinely found myself wondering what to write about, worrying that I'm not a real writer after all. Phooey.

Whatever shall I do if the world is not enough?

** ** **

I have a friend who loves prompts. For months she kept nudging me toward them, gently but firmly, trying to convince me that a good prompt is better than the whole wide world, because a good prompt gives you a focus and a way in.

** ** **

You know what I hate? The blank page. The blank, ever-so-white, mocking-me-with-its-clean-emptiness, no-words page.

When I was a teenager I wrote a poem called "A Bright White Room is Hell." I didn't intend it as a metaphor for the blank page, but I think I'd like to intend that now.

But give me a page with my own messy thoughts and I can breathe a little more easily. I have something to hang on to, something to swing around my head. Most days, words -- any words -- are better than a blank page.

** ** **

That same teacher who insisted that the world is our prompt conceded and gave us just one little bit of direction. She told us we could choose a color and write about whatever came to mind when we thought of that color.

I chose brown.

This is not what I wrote, but this is what I wrote about: how on the first day of first grade, the tip of my big, fat Crayola snapped off and left with me a pointless tree stump of a crayon. The teacher was a nice lady, but she wouldn't give me a new one. I cried during the whole walk home with my mother, who later recorded this event in the spiral-bound notebook she kept as a journal when my brother and I were little. Years later, that teacher, still a youngish woman, died of cancer. I began to think (while writing about "brown") how little things and big things can go wrong unexpectedly, and how there's not always a do-over or replacement waiting in the wings, even if your teacher is kind, even if God is loving.

All of that from brown. Brown was my way in.

** ** **

So here's the thing. The world is enough. But the world is overwhelming. And sometimes we're tired. Sometimes our creative mojonators slow down and we need help to crank things back up. I think of prompts this way: I know how to cook without a recipe. But sometimes I run out of ideas or get bored, and then I like to read cookbooks and websites for yummy ideas which I can follow verbatim or tweak to my liking.

There is no shame in wanting, needing, using creative prompts. I still resist them, but that's because I'm stubborn and silly. Even so, I am now a prompt convert. I believe in them. If nothing else, they can get us unstuck, get us writing, get some messy words on that blank page so we can swing them around later. If nothing else, prompts can be practice. And when I say practice, I mean as a musician practices scales and as a Buddhist practices meditation.

** ** **

Some days the world is enough. Other days, I need a little help finding the right piece of the world to write about.

I've discovered that I like a certain kind of prompt. I like ones that are open-ended enough to let me jump from the color brown to first grade to death (so to speak). I don't love the ones that are overly prescriptive and tell me to write a sci-fi story about toasters that come to life (for example). That's a bit too much of a way in, and I don't really want to go there anyway.

So I've created a batch of writing prompts that I'd actually want to do, and packaged them up for you, in case you'd like to do them too.

The next session of Alchemy Daily starts May 1. You'll get 30 days of writing prompts, inspiration, and magic delivered to your email inbox for just $35. It'll be fun.  And no toasters, I promise. (Unless that's your thing, and then you can write about them.)

book review: the wisdom to know the difference

Today, I am hosting a day of Eileen Flanagan's blog tour for her book The Wisdom to Know the Difference: When to Make a Change - and When to Let Go.

In this book, Eileen uses the Serenity Prayer as a jumping off point for looking at themes that include change, fear, letting go, and courage. Through her discussions of these (and other) themes, she weaves personal stories from her own experience and the varied experiences of others. 

The Serenity Prayer states, "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."

So here it is: As I stand in this place in my life where this past year has been so full of the light and beauty and the dark and shadows, I am deeply drawn to the Serenity Prayer and making the choice to seek ways to change while also giving myself permission to listen to what I already know as my truth. This book is a welcome companion to where I am on my journey. As I reflect on the stories I want to share about my experiences of the past year, I am looking to books like this one and books by Brene Brown and Pema Chodron and others as lanterns on my path as I figure out how to share these pieces of my truth. (As I figure out where I am going, how I can rest, what I can let go of, and how I can best help myself as I take the next step and the one after that.) I look forward to sharing more of what I have learned from this book as I share these stories in 2011.

I feel moved to point out that much of The Wisdom to Know the Difference is seen through the lens of the Christian tradition. However, I found the writing to be encompassing of many views (with examples and stories from many faiths), and I was easily able to see it as a book grounded in a spiritual perspective. The many examples, teachers, stories that Eileen cites help to illustrate the common themes people experience when facing the challenging moments of their lives.

There are several meditations and exercises shared throughout the book and you can guess that I loved those. It is always enjoyable to read another person's thoughts about ways to sit in the quiet. Additionally, the questions Eileen invites you to reflect on at the end of each chapter were another aspect of the book that resonated. I like this idea of asking the reader to sift through what she has read and then only take what she needs/what will serve her.

As I was reading this book, I sought out more information about Eileen on her website. Then, while reading a few posts on her blog, it became clear to me that she would do a much better job of introducing herself to the readers and friends who come to my site than I could by sharing a brief bio with you. So I asked her if I could repost a blog post she wrote this past fall entitled, "If You Want to Write." The words that she shares in the following post really spoke to me as a writer.

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If You Want to Write
by Eileen Flanagan 

I’ve gotten several requests lately from people who want to write about their spiritual experiences. A recent email asks, “Do you have any advice?” a question so broad that I could write a book to answer it, though I’m going to settle for a blog post. My hope is that this will be helpful to the many people who feel that longing to share their story in print (and that it will spare me the hours it could potentially take to answer each of these requests individually).

Here’s my first and main piece of advice: if you feel called to write, start writing.

I first started feeling the inner-nudge to write while I was working for a non-profit about 19 years ago. I started typing up funny or interesting things that happened at work. I took a few days of vacation in a cabin in the woods with my dog where I read Brenda Ueland’s encouraging classic, If You Want To Write: A Book about Art, Independence and Spirit, and scribbled one of my first articles in long-hand on a legal pad. A few months later, I left my job and became a resident student at a spiritual study center called Pendle Hill where I took a class called Writing Your Spiritual Autobiography, based on Dan Wakefield's book. It was a wonderful class because it gave me a weekly assignment and an encouraging audience. Encouragement really helps, especially in the beginning.

I wrote a lot during my 15 months as a student and then a staff member at Pendle Hill. By the time I left, I had the idea for my first book, but I had also realized that writing was a craft as much as a calling, so I read books on how to improve as a writer. Because Natalie Goldberg encouraged daily writing practice, I took my black and white composition book out to grimy diners and scribbled descriptions of the people at the counter while I sipped my diner coffee. I worked at my book every day. I joined a writer’s group where we read each other’s work and argued over whether people improved from encouragement or critique (both, I believe, in the right measure). I started teaching writing in a prison. Eventually I was ready to write a book proposal and send it to agents, so I started reading the many books on how to do that. So far I’ve published two books and many articles by following the standard publishing advice available on the shelves of Borders and many libraries.

That’s how I got started. I’m sure there are lots of ways, but I suspect they all involve writing a lot, at least if you want to get published and do this full time. Maybe you don’t, and that’s fine. I believe writing is a powerful spiritual practice, and there is much value in writing our stories, regardless of whether or not they are ever published or earn money (which is another matter entirely). I learned this teaching in the prison, watching women who had never been encouraged to express themselves find the joy of exploring their inner landscape. If you have the slightest urge to put your feelings and experiences into words, I say, do it! It will certainly be good for you and it may help other people, too. In the bigger scheme of things, I think it is good for the world when people know themselves and share their stories, though I realize that sounds a bit grandiose. 

But here’s where I want to offer caution along with encouragement. There are many myths about being a writer in our culture, and aspiring writers can sometimes get carried away with the fantasy. For example, we know that Elizabeth Gilbert had a rough divorce, ate a lot of gelato, and started praying—and that her memoir about this phase of her life became an international bestseller that has now been made into a motion picture starring Julia Roberts. “Well, I had a rough divorce, and I like gelato,” the aspiring writer might think, and before you know it they are paralyzed by the question of who will play them in the movie version of their life and whether they really want people to know about that time they couldn’t zip up their jeans—and so they stop writing. 

Here’s the thing people forget: Elizabeth Gilbert wrote since childhood. She wrote short stories in college and became a journalist. She honed her craft for 20 years before she published her memoir, which didn’t do nearly as well in hardcover as it later did in paperback. This doesn't mean you should give up if you haven't been at it for 20 years. Not at all. It just means you should forget about whatever fears or ambitions her story triggers, and start working. Gilbert herself gives a similar message in the Thoughts on Writing page of her website, where she encourages potential writers to “take on this work like a holy calling” not from a desire for success or recognition. I agree, and I find it's advice I need to give myself from time to time.

The questions I'm getting from aspiring writers are reminding me of my first impulse to write, which had nothing to do with amazon ranking or book sales. It's good to stay in touch with that for as William Blake wrote (as quoted in Brenda Ueland's book), "Imagination is the divine body in every man." Nurture it.

*****

Read more about Eileen Flanagan, including a few "outtakes" from her book, at her website and blog.

TLC Book Tours asked me to review The Wisdom to Know the Difference and I received a copy of the book to read in exchange for sharing my thoughts about it. Visit the other sites on Eileen's book/blog tour here.

Rituals & The Writing Process (a guest post from Jenna McGuiggan)

photo by Jenna

My dear friend Jenna is hosting an online writing course this fall called Alchemy: The Art & Craft of Writing. I am honored to be one of the guests joining her in The Word Cellar for this course, and I will be sharing a bit about how we can use the senses as a writing tool to help make our writing richer and full of texture. 

And here is the part where I tell you a secret: I am also taking the course because I want to feel like a student again and find myself knee-deep in the world of words with others who want to be knee deep beside me. I look forward to pushing myself to continue to enrich the way I put the stories whispering within me onto the page. 

Because I really hope you will think about joining Jenna and me and the other fantastic guests and the participants who have I already signed up, I invited Jenna to share a bit about the course and some of her writing tips:

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Jenna says: One of my readers asked me for advice on how to navigate the transition from the world of writing to the world off the page. 

The Word Cellar reader asked:

“Once you let the writing take over and you're flowing, how do you know when to stop or rather how do you separate that life you are creating on paper from the life you are creating around you? I find it hard to write for a few hours and emerge from that space with the ability to stay connected with the people, places and things around me. The feeling scares me and as a result I haven't written much in the last few months. I just start to feel like I'm going crazy and I don't want to.”

What an intriguing and powerful question.

I tend to have the opposite problem: The people, places, and things around me often pull me out of my writing. I'm too easily distracted away from the page. That said, I do experience times when the writing draws me in and I'm immersed in the story.

These moments of flow feel magical to me, but I understand how an intense writing experience could be disorienting and even frightening as you come out of that focused state.

I've developed a technique that I use when I need to quiet my mind and work through distractions. It's a little ritual, really. I make sure I have something to drink next to me (usually water, tea, or coffee) so I don't have an excuse to get up for a beverage. I light my favorite candle (Lavender Leaves by Henri Bendel) and commit to writing for an hour. I even make the commitment out loud to myself: "I will write for an hour while this candle burns." Sometimes I set a gentle-sounding alarm (on my cell phone) as a way to keep myself from checking the time obsessively during that hour.

This simple ritual helps me to enter into my writing. Sometimes I struggle for most of that hour, wrestling with words and trying to stay focused. But I don't let myself check Facebook or email or go do the laundry. I keep writing. Sometimes I find the flow before the hour ends, and sometimes I don't. Either way, I've put in an hour of writing, and that feels good. When the hour ends, I can choose whether to keep going or to rest and then do another round.

I wonder if you could create a ritual or technique to help you transition out of an intense writing experience. Maybe you could light a candle when you start writing, and perhaps set a timer to go off ten or fifteen minutes before the time you need to stop writing and re-enter the world around you. By giving yourself that cushion of time, you allow yourself to recalibrate and refocus. During those minutes, you could do some yoga poses or stretches, listen to some favorite music, do a little dance around the room -- something to ground you in the physical "now" away from the page. After this little interlude, you could blow out the candle to symbolize the transition to whatever you need to do next, knowing that the candle and the story are available to you when you can return to them.

This is just one suggestion. Everyone has a different writing process. I'd love to hear other ideas and techniques in the comments. How do you stay focused on your writing? How do you leave the story-world for the physical world around you? Please share.

*****

I invite you to join me this October in The Word Cellar for more discussions like this. I've created an online writing course for creative souls who are interested in learning more about writing. Alchemy: The Art & Craft of Writing is a doorway into a magical world in which practical tips and craft lessons ignite your inspiration and help you bloom as a writer. I'll share some of my most effective tips and techniques for turning everyday words into beautiful pieces of writing. There will be craft lessons, writing exercises, and invitations to inspiration. We'll also have a private online community where we can share our work and share the experience of living the writing life. Will you join us?

Note: Today, September 30, is the last day to take part in Jenna's generous Alchemy sale. She is offering the price at a discounted rate, so if you want to sign up, consider doing so today.

(This post originally appeared here as part of In The Word Cellar, a writing column that runs on the second and fourth Wednesday of the month.)

asking questions {a guest post from meghan o'rourke lecates}

while we are soaking up the wonder of a newborn in the house, a few of my blogging friends are sharing some guests posts...enjoy these musings from Meghan O’Rourke LeCates.

*****

one of the most powerful + life-saving tools
i use
to grow + mend + thrive
{perhaps my first real tool in this realm of grow + mend + thrive}
is this:
asking questions

yes
this asking questions
coming from
{mostly in my younger years + sometimes still}
shy me
easily red-faced {to match my hair} me
the one who didn’t want to raise her hand
to draw attention to herself

asking questions = scary

someone{s} would be looking at me
focused on me
maybe even
seeing me

{i have long danced with:
i don’t want to be seen + i want to be seen
of course, you know, it’s all about wanting to be seen
yes, even the “i don’t want to be seen!”
is about this:
“i want to be seen”}

yes, me
asking questions

the one who didn’t want to ask
because it would mean
i didn’t know
and
“shouldn’t” i already know?

i thought i was supposed to know things

{how i was just supposed to know
i don’t know
but i was supposed to know
you know?}

if i didn’t know
it was on me

{a failure
a lack
on my part}

sigh

{can you identify with
any of this?}

yes
i started to ask questions
and
{at first}
not the kinds of questions you might expect
like
how does this work?
or
what does this mean?
or
could you explain that to me again, please?
{although i practice asking these kinds of questions, too}

the questions i started to ask
were questions i asked myself

necessary questions
questions
desperate
to be spoken + answered
hungry
to heal + lighten

deeply, deeply, deeply sensitive being that i was
{and still am
gratefully
with many tools in my ever-expanding toolkit -
i am ready for a toolshed}
i sometimes {= incessantly} thought
not helpful thoughts about myself
thoughts of the
i-am-wrong + i-am-not-good {enough}
variety 

finally
one day
this question made it’s way
mysteriously
{it’s not something i had ever heard before}
to me
and
rose up
through me:
is it true?

is it?

Is
it
true?

one question

it changed my life

here’s how it worked
i thought a
i-did-something-wrong thought
and
i started to feel
low-down-dark about it
and then
i inquired

i started to do
some investigating
some excavating
with this
singular question:
is it true?

is it?

Is
it
true?

True
as it turned out
mostly was
{always, even}
something else entirely

i don’t ask
is it true?
as much anymore

in this case
i do
just know

a question i ask a lot now is:
what do i need?

what do
i
need?

truly need?

i also ask:
does this resonate?
and
is this aligned?

i dwell in the asking of this:
what am i grateful for?

i am newly inspired + guided by this question:
what is the most playful + lighthearted choice i can make right now?

i wonder:
what question(s} are you asking?
how is this question{s} changing your life?

*****

Meghan O’Rourke LeCates is an ordained interfaith minister, ceremony designer + officiant, Reiki Master practitioner, spiritual director + coach and inspirational writer. Her motto these days: Rise + Shine!

Find out more about Meghan + her work and read her blog here: http://withpractice.com/. Follow Meghan on Twitter: https://twitter.com/withpractice.

in this moment {a guest post from vivienne mcmaster)

while we are soaking up the wonder of a newborn in the house, a few of my blogging friends are sharing some guests posts...enjoy this "in this moment" post from vivienne mcmaster.

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In this moment, I am no where else but here. In this sunshine, this warmth, the ending of another day well lived. I put my camera on the ground, aim it upwards, and begin. I document days like this and the ones far less shiny too. I have these images to tell the story in a way that my memory can’t hold onto. It’s not the facts I want to remember, the date, the place. It’s the story of contentment my smile tells, the way sunshine feels after a week of rain and the way taking photos in the ravine makes me feel alive.

I am the only one living this life, this day this exact way and I am the narrator of my own story.

*****

Vivienne McMaster is a fine art and portrait photographer with a great love for toy and vintage cameras, self-portraiture, and channeling joy through her camera and into an image.

Her work can be found on her website, www.viviennemcmaster.com.

in this moment {a guest post from jennifer mcguiggan)

while we are soaking up the wonder of a newborn in the house, a few of my blogging friends are sharing some guests posts...enjoy this audio post, "in this moment (hold onto hope)" from jenna mcguiggan. (just click on "hold onto hope" below.)

*****

Jennifer (Jenna) McGuiggan is a writer, editor, and writing coach who works with artists, writers, and bloggers. She is the creator and editor of Lanterns: A Gathering of Stories, a collaborative book of prose, poetry, and photography about women in creative community.

Jenna invites you to join her in The Word Cellar, which she envisions as a cozy, stone-walled chamber filled with twinkle lights, shelves of stories, nooks of books, and plush armchairs perfect for sharing your tale.

Visit her online at www.thewordcellar.com or email her at jennifer{at}thewordcellar{dot}com.

hold onto hope

know (a guest post from chelsea lonsdale)

while we are soaking up the wonder of a newborn in the house, a few of my blogging friends are sharing some guests posts...enjoy today's words from chelsea lonsdale.

*****

in this moment, i am overwhelmed with a move and the sorting of belongings, the temporary space in my daughter's father's apartment until we get the keys to our own (and, being together in the same space for the first time in two years, we will actually be parenting together briefly and sharing groceries, and the growth on each individual's behalf has been so exponential that it is almost like fellowship with a stranger, bright eyes and all). breathe. rest. when i am like this (which i am often, frazzled a bit and happily seeking balance with absolute confidence that it will be found), i draw from words. one phrase that i have written in my notes: "the earth is their communion." it is from a Wendell Berry poem, one that i cannot remember the name of and therefore cannot find for you because the book i got it from is out of print! (the country of marriage is the book - oh, if you can get your hands on this, please do) here, instead, is another of his: 

“As a people, we have lost sight of the profound communion—even the union— of the inner with the outer life.”—Wendell Berry 

know.

know both inside and out. know that the rhythm of our breathing, the energy between our selves, our children, our partners, our neighbors, the stranger sitting in the chair by the window here in this coffee house - we are in constant communion. breathe, and rest in this thought. we are in communion with one another, and with the earth, with the things we consume and the fabrics we clothe ourselves in. we possess an innate responsibility for these things. it is perpetual reciprocity - we give, it gives. we take, and it takes from us. what is 'it'? life? something within the universe? the mantras we hum under our breath? it is what you want it to be. it is in the push from life to death and to life again, from the ground up and then back down. know. grace. be. and be loyal to these things you have chosen. 

when are you most at peace?

i am most at peace when i am reminded of these things: the love between individuals - the way the poet writes to his dear wife, and the sacred places he makes for himself - near his window, in his house, as he plants and harvests (both literally and metaphorically). when there are flowers in my kitchen. when i am confident that my daily choices leave the smallest footprint. when there is simplicity. when my little one tells me she's going to be a woman someday.  when there is rain. when she meditates as she pours water from one little cup to the next. when spring turns to summer, and summer turns to fall. when there is community like this that liz has nurtured, that gives women the opportunity to connect and nurture one another. 

*****

chelsea is an aspiring writer who thrives on motherhood, community, and thrift stores. her blog can be found at nashifeet.blogspot.com. she also sells vintage and handmade on etsy at nashifeet.etsy.com.