Writing is dynamic, it requires you to be dynamic. It’s not something that’s going to happen to you or for you. You need to be the active force that makes the decision to write, that decides to exercise your mind, every time you sit down to write. This week’s show is about some of the questions I ask myself to engender that activity. First up is -  

1. Can I take the first step?
   I know that making a small effort, a small improvement, a small change every day leads to massive impact. Improvement, change, transformation - they all happen incrementally, step by step, in my experience. I have seen this so many times in my life I expect it to be second nature to me by now. But of course it’s not. Inertia is a law, just like gravity.You can only get going in the direction you want to go, or think you want to go, when you start by taking that first step. So it is with my writing practice. If I want to exercise my mind I have to write that first word. Every day. My writing practice isn’t going to start by itself. I have to make the first move. Every day.
   What I’ve also found is that the next step is always clear. You may not be able to see your destination but you can always figure out your next step. And when you take that step, everything is different. If that step doesn’t seem to be going in the right direction, well then you’ve only taken one step in that direction and you can take the next one in a direction that seems better.
   You can never predict the end of a journey or whatever you’re writing but you can be sure it will be an interesting adventure if you hold faith with the process of creating it by taking that first step, writing that first word. 

2. What am I willing to let go of?
   If I want to change I can’t hold on to everything that’s keeping me in place.  But to write the first word means moving from the spot I’m in. Something has to change.
   I still have this wild hope where my current situation is suddenly blown up and replaced by an imaginary one - where things are instantly different - that I’ll win the lottery, or write a best-seller, or inherit a bundle of money, or any of an endless number of scenarios. In other words, and, most importantly, where I don’t have to change. That is the crux of the matter for me. For me to start doing anything differently, to start writing to exercise my mind, means being open to things changing, to moving from the ways I’m set in.
   For example, I’m a brooder. I brood over things. It’s one of my default states. Maybe it comes from my island genes where, for many generations, the winter weather kept you inside for months sitting around the fire trying to stay warm. And often you’d spend the time nursing your grudges and thinking up new ones. At least, that’s one explanation I make up for myself. If I’m not paying attention and deciding what I want to do, then I can find myself dwelling on things from the past. It can be from any time in my past and they’re invariably negative memories of some kind that I’ve been holding on to. Writing helps me to dissolve the hold these memories have on me and my thinking. Writing helps me to let go and not experience a loss but a gain because I’ve replaced them with something better. It may not happen in one go but every time I write about them they become lighter and I carry less of the weight of the past around with me.
   I know when I stick with the practice of writing that some of things I hold most closely and dearly will evaporate in that light. And I also know that the wonder of something new and different will come. 

3. What am I going to discover today?
   To me one of the most amazing things about writing is that I don’t know what’s going to come until I start writing. It’s like when you have a good conversation with friends or family. You don’t know what the conversation is going to be about before it starts, and you don’t know what you’re going to say, but you always find that, somehow, you have something to say. Writing is like that – only you write instead of talking. And just as there is always something to say, there is always something to write.
   The more I write the freer I become to explore my thinking. And it is an adventure. It leads me to more understanding - of myself, or of whatever thing it is that I find myself writing about. And it often leads to a new way of thinking for me. And so I end up furthering my knowledge, stretching my thinking, finding new meaning. Writing keeps that sense of exploration alive.

4. What am I willing to overcome today?
   It’s always interesting how the mind works. Here’s an instance of one mind working – mine, that is. I remember reading a book or about a book where the author describes how he used laughter to cure what had been diagnosed as an incurable disease. In one of the chapters he describes spending some time in the house of a famous concert musician. He describes the morning ritual of the musician who is very old at this point and riddled with arthritis in his hands. Every morning he goes to his piano with his stiff and sore hands and starts trying to play the scales. It takes him some time and effort to be able to play them. When he is able to play them freely then he moves to playing Bach on his own instrument. The author describes the change in the musician from starting with the pain, working through it, to the joy he sees on the musician’s face when he is playing Bach. This is the daily practice of the musician. The author reckons that knowing this joy is available and having the determination to work through the obstacles to get to it is what keeps the musician going and still performing at his great age. (I have put a link to the book in the RESOURCES section below.)
   That is how I remember the story, it’s not necessarily how the story actually goes. However, accuracy is not the point I’m trying to get to here. Memories like this help me on mornings when I’m sluggish or unwilling to get up or get started. They help me to remember and ask myself the question - “What obstacle are you willing to overcome to get to the joy you know writing brings?” Having memories like this help me. I know my mind is pretty typical so I offer this example so you can remember whatever it is that will get you to this question. 

5. How do I want to remember that?
   This is a method I use to approach difficult memories or places I’m stuck in. We all experience and remember the same thing differently, sometimes very differently. I see this from time to time in how differently my sister and brothers and I remember episodes from our growing up together. I know well the quiet pause after one of us has recounted some incident in a way that is utterly different from how the rest of us remember it. It happens often enough that it’s become a kind of a game for us when we meet. They remember things differently from me and differently from each other.
   It reminds me that my way of thinking is just one way of thinking, my way of experiencing is just one way of experiencing. I think finding the way to be with others in any situation is part of the opportunity and challenge of being human. So when I start off angry or resentful at a situation or a person I write about that and ask myself if that is the way I want to remember this. If not, and it is usually not, then how? Or I ask how did it get to be or how did they get to think like that? Then I write about that. Knowing there are as many different perspectives as there are people helps me to reconsider, to remember better. And, as always happens with writing, I end up in a better place than I started.

6. What will I pay attention to?
   Here is the newsreel running somewhere inside my head this morning – It’s the end of the month the bills are due, hope we have enough left over to pay down some of the credit cards; the leaves need cleaned up in the yard before it gets too messy; it’s getting colder, need to check the heating unit, it wasn’t working well last year, hope we don’t have to replace it, not something we have the money for now; better let the dogs out. And so on. I have other things going on as well – it is quiet and peaceful in the house, I got up early to have some time for writing before starting on other things, the world outside is waking up, birds are starting to talk and move, squirrels are shifting, almost all the sounds are natural. I know if I start writing that I will discover and produce something new from myself. This will change how I think and how I feel about everything else. I know this because I’ve done it so many times before. So then the question I ask myself is what am I going to pay attention to now? 

7. Who am I writing for?
   In a hundred years, as my father-in-law used to say, none of us will be here and where we will be no one knows for certain. What I do know for certain is that there is a whole unknown realm waiting to be explored and discovered by me when I write. When I write, I write for myself as a person learning more about the scope and scale of what it is to be human. I also have the unformed hope that by throwing out my filament in this way it is a contribution in some way.

8. What am I welcoming about today’s experience?
   That I am taking the time to enhance my day? That I am throwing the counterweight to all the diminishing feelings and thoughts? That I am going to experience my own inspiration? That I will understand something better or something about myself better? That I will assume good intent for those I write about? Some or all of this?

9. What made me glad to be alive?
   What I mean by this is looking for a couple of things in the last twenty-four hours, or since you last wrote, that gave you that internal bubbling, of whatever size, about being glad to be alive. the little moments of joy – like having dinner at home with the family, a nice evening with friends, the feeling of satisfaction from cleaning the yard of leaves, some effort coming to fruition successfully, having a laugh while watching a movie with my wife. 
   I tried this because my wife suggested it. She suggested it because there was a time when I’d often wake up feeling anxious or fearful about my situation, often much earlier than I’d planned. So she suggested trying to choose something else to think about, something more life-enhancing. I was skeptical. I’d tried approaches to choosing how you think, to be positive, to be more empowered. They never worked for me. However, when I limited the question to the last day or so, I did start waking up feeling lighter. And when I started writing them down it had an even bigger impact. I didn’t notice it at first but then one day I realized I was looking forward to getting up to write. And that was a wonderful moment. 

Writing has given me more moments of joy than any other activity I’ve done. My fondest wish is that you are able to find this for yourself as well. 

RESOURCES:

Norman Cousins: Anatomy of an Illness