Writing With Abandon

Reflections and ramblings about life as an educator, writer, reader, knitter, and over-thinker. Trying to do the writing only I can do.

Tag: SOL25

  • Bilateral Beach

    For someone who has lived in the Sunshine State for almost 4 years, I don’t go to the beach nearly as much as one might expect. Nor to the pool, even though each of the three buildings I’ve lived in since moving here has one.

    But every other Saturday since late October, I’ve been driving the 45-60 minutes up to Hollywood Beach to see an EMDR therapist in her tiny house whose street leads to the beach. Whether before or after my sessions, I make sure to come sit and look out at the rolling waves, feel the salty air lick my face, and stick my feet in the sand.

    The hottest day can feel bearable when you’re at the beach, the respite of the cool water just steps away. Likewise, I enjoyed coming out here on cooler mornings this “winter” in a light sweater, hugging my knees close.

    EMDR – Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing – therapy works through bilateral stimulation, alternating beats or taps or a side-by-side visual. It helps people process traumatic memories, and it’s been far more effective for me than regular talk/cognitive behavioral therapy. I came here the first time amidst nonstop panic attacks, unable to eat or hold food down. Now, 4 months later, I have found a place of calm within me that hadn’t existed before. Or, perhaps it existed, but was buried beneath so much.

    I sit here, staring at the water, its blue and turquoise hues, and recognize my growth. I have only gratitude.

    There are big changes coming soon. I will leave the classroom after this year and see what’s next. There is fear, and excitement, and unease, and impatience.

    But like so many other transformative moments of my life, I will trust my gut, ride the wave, and come out the other side. I’ll step out onto a different shore, ready to greet what awaits me.

  • On Doing the Writing Only I Can Do

    I crack open the notebook I used for the Quoddy Writing Retreat this past August, led by Ralph Fletcher and Georgia Heard. The notebook I haven’t touched since landing back in Miami, even though I made promises — to myself, to my writing group — to set aside time to write. My streak of Tuesdays got away from me sometime in the early fall. Life happened, as they say.

    But Ralph told me that writing will always wait for you. If writing is important, it will come back to you. The muse will come knocking.

    I hope writing has been patient, as I’ve set her aside these past many months. I hope she doesn’t mind me picking her back up, dusting her off with the fabric at the bottom of my t-shirt.

    Because it’s the third Slice of Life challenge I’ll be participating in, and this time around, I have an even larger community doing it with me.

    I’m skimming these pages and gems are jumping out at me, quotes from Ralph and Georgia and other published writers. I’ll jot them here, in hopes I can return to them on the days when slicing just feels too hard. Reminding me that I’m in great company.

    ***

    Do the writing that only you can do.

    “Tell your stories. You own everything that happened to you.” – Anne Lamott

    Write with abandon.

    “It is, really, about heart; about a human being looking at life through her own lens and thinking and feeling it through and then making something – even something very simple – that says something new and truthful – something that reaches out to the reader in a spirit of commiseration.” – George Saunders

    “Be you. Be all in. Fall. Get up. Try again.” – Brené Brown

    “The bigger the issue, the smaller you write.” – Richard Price

    Let the image do the work for you.

    Revision is like chiseling away at stone, at clay.

    “Revision is not a way to fix a broken piece. It’s a way to honor a great piece.” – Ralph Fletcher

    The notebook is a playground.

    “We tell ourselves stories in order to live.” – Joan Didion

    ***

    It’s with these writers at my back that I embark yet again on this challenge. I will write with abandon, “just have fun with it,” as my dad says. I’ll do the writing only I can do!