Julia Cameron made a big deal of walking in her sequels to The Artist's Way,
which many of you read, as I did, to recover our blocked inner artist.
I thought, yeah, OK, when I first saw "daily walk" up there with
"morning pages" and "artist's date." I liked to walk, but not every day
and certainly not as part of my writing routine.
I've
been preparing my manuscript for an editor. Finding problems, large
and small, embarrassing and must-be-fixed, and getting excellent
questions to ponder. Problem is, I can't easily ponder at my desk.
When I'm at my desk, I write, revise, research. I need to get away from
the desk to think.
Add
to that some family issues (elderly mom, young adult son) that arose
this week, which were equally gnarly, which distracted me from the
creative flow, to put it mildly. After an hour of teeth gnashing and
too many snacks, I threw on my down jacket and put Yak-Traks (netted
metal grippers) on my walking shoes and went outside.
For
about a mile, I just stomped. Anger and frustration over life and
writing pushed me up the country road by our house, which is mostly
uphill. When I reached level ground, I began walking faster. The
Yak-Traks kept me from sliding on the snow pack left by the plows and I
didn't have to watch my step. It took another mile before I stopped
being mad, before the cold air and stretches of snow-covered farm fields
and woods calmed me down. By the time I reached my turn-around point, I
had my first solution to the writing problem (family problems take
longer). By the time I got back home, I felt completely ready to start
up again.
That
afternoon's writing went very smoothly. Surprisingly so. I sent the
chapter off to my editor and felt great about it. I didn't attribute it
to the walk, not that day. But when it kept happening, I caught on.
Those
of you who run regularly, who work out, who garden, who kayak, who do
any kind of sport or activity that lets the mind rest, know what I'm
talking about. It doesn't have to be walking. It just has to be
something that gets you out of your own way, which usually means getting
you out of your head long enough to refresh the inner screen. I
imagine it gets jammed up like my browser does, loading old ideas and
images, and it needs to be refreshed. The mindless movement does that.
A
tiny bow of gratitude to Julia, who first introduced the idea to this
reluctant receiver. Now I'm a convert. I write, I walk, then I can
write again.
Your
weekly writing exercise is to notice your rhythm. Do you hit a wall
and keep pushing, because you think you should? Because some writing
teacher or friend said you were (1) lazy, (2) procrastinating, or (3)
not a real writer if you took a break? Because you are afraid you won't
get going again if you stop? How has this worked for you? If it
hasn't, consider a mindless movement activity. Try a walk.
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