a writers heart Archives - Carol Holland March

October 28, 2024October 28, 2024

Where Did the Center Go?

Have you noticed how many of us are nervous, overworked, over-scheduled, and often puzzled on how to separate truth from fabrication? What’s going to happen? Who will tell us what’s going on?

We are most confident when we stand in the middle, surrounded by familiar faces, roles, and tasks. From a solid center, we know what to do. We can choose a goal, make plans, find resources and collaborators. We can predict with confidence. Paths emerge. All we have to do is choose one.

But when the center evaporates and we stand on the edge of things, uncertainty beckons. When the familiar dissipates, who knows what lurks in the chaos beyond the wall? Stories of monsters waiting to devour us titillate our senses, reminding us to stay put and stay safe.

But that’s not the only choice. When the safety of the ordinary fails, another response is called for. If we stop, even for a moment, we might remember something. A shiver, a feeling, a vague memory of what once was and could be again.

We might recall that we are more than what the world sees. We might remember that the outer world reflects a deeper reality. We might remember our soul sitting deep inside us, ever patient, ever waiting for us to hear its whispered call.

“In the interval between each thought, in the interval between each heartbeat, we remember what we always knew.”

(William Irwin Thompson)

Peace does not happen out there. Peace starts with those willing to look for new responses, new ways of being in the world. Inside each person who chooses peace over strife, a bud of solitude can bloom into an awareness of the vast creative nature of what connects us to all that lives.

We can access that awareness through our Creative Self, a bridge between our ordinary waking mind and the soul. The Creative Self invites us to be more, know more, remember more. It is calm, patient, joyful, and playful. It wants to paint a picture, compose a poem, dance all night and then watch the sunrise offer the promise of another day. The Creative Self plays a game with no winners and losers because its game will never end.

Peace starts with us. We start small. We slow down. We remember that even when the center of society is shifting into something we can’t fathom, we have our own center.

To remember who you really are, try a few simple techniques:

Find time to be alone without tasks or the buzz of electronics. Embrace stillness. Even a few minutes of silence can clear your mind and promote a sense of peace.

Spend time in nature. Grass, trees, lakes, a running brook, or an ocean can soothe our minds and remind us we are part of something huge. A hike in the mountains, a walk in a park, sitting in your garden. All are healing and peaceful.

Set aside time for creative work. Learn to draw, record your memories, play with clay. Even using colored pencils to fill in the images in an adult coloring book has the power to evoke the playful child within and increase feelings of peace.

Find a child or a dog, then play with them. You’ll have to sit on the floor, but it’s worth it, since they are our teachers in loving without judgment.

Our center hasn’t gone anywhere. Our task is to unearth it, climb inside, and look out at our world with different eyes.

September 29, 2024September 29, 2024

Finding Your True Voice

Journaling is a bridge to the Creative Self. For writers, journaling is a warm up exercise, a place to practice craft, to make sense of our thoughts and ideas. It’s a private exercise, not meant for any eyes but our own.

It works equally well for those with no desire to publish fiction or nonfiction. It’s a simple, practical way to process our experience, to learn, change, and grow.

In your journal, you can tell the truth. The whole truth, unvarnished, however messy and convoluted.

You don’t have to be “nice.” You don’t need the diplomatic turn of phrase. You don’t have to hedge, be vague, hesitate, or wonder if what you have to say will be accepted.

THERE IS A RULE:

NO ONE READS YOUR JOURNAL

The only way you can write the truth is to assume that what you set down will never be read. Not by any other person, and not even by yourself at some later date.

Margaret Atwood

If you’re upset, angry, feel left out, not good enough, put down, ill at ease, or if you don’t know how you feel, but know it isn’t good, this is the place to go. This is where you can say it all. To other people. To yourself. To the world.

To journal is to become a truth teller in training. To practice being honest. To let go of inhibitions, fears, hesitancy, or doubt that what you have to say is not good enough. What matters is not pleasing others, but finding your authentic voice.

If you move on from journaling and write stories, essays, or books for the public, it’s even more important to tell the truth. Your truth. Facts matter, but in any story, the emotional journey matters more. No matter what you write about, your take on it will be your own.

In my journaling practice, I started simple. Stayed on the surface. What happened? How upset I was. How angry. Misunderstood. I was right, they were wrong. My journal was a record of what happened and how I felt.

But as I kept going, exploring my feelings and reactions, I went deeper, gaining perspective and getting more honest.

Not that I had been lying before, but I was peeling off the layers of my outer perception so I could see beneath the surface. Like floating face down on the surface of the sea and catching glimpses of shells, a clump of seaweed, or a crab burrowing into the sand.

I started asking different questions. What was the truth? Had I spun a tale of half-truths to justify my actions? So everyone else could feel satisfied? What really motivated me? What hurt the most? Did this pain feel familiar? What was under the pain? How much was I trying to please others by diluting what I said?

The more often we show up on the page and push ourselves further into that space under our ordinary awareness, the more relief we feel. We let go. We laugh at ourselves. We learn. We gain another degree of freedom.

So, write it out. Dig deep. Ask your younger self what she has been longing to say since you were three years old.

Her wisdom might surprise you.

I write entirely to find out what I’m thinking, what I’m looking at, what I see and what it means. What I want and what I fear. Joan Didion

August 26, 2024August 26, 2024

Are You Waiting for inspiration?

When writers tell me this is why work is not progressing, it reminds me of waiting for the elusive Godot. He never comes. We spend a lot of time wondering why. We never figure it out.

If you wait for inspiration to write; you’re not a writer, you’re a waiter.–Dan Poynter

Inspiration usually comes during work, not before it.—Madeleine L’Engle

I don’t wait for moods. You accomplish nothing if you do that. Your mind must know it has got to get down to work.—Pearl S. Buck

Why is it hard to finish a book?

1. Fear it isn’t any good; it won’t sell; people will criticize it

I went for years not finishing anything. Because, of course, when you finish something, you can be judged. I had pieces that were re-written so many times I suspect it was just a way of avoiding sending them out.—Erica Jong

2. Fear it is good; it will sell; and people will wait breathlessly for the next one

The Mother of all Fears is so close to us that even when we verbalize it, we don’t believe it. The Fear That We Will Succeed. That we can access the powers we secretly know we possess.—Steven Pressfield, The War of Art

3. Fear you don’t have the experience/credentials/wisdom needed to finish

Remember, our enemy is not lack of preparation; it’s not the difficulty of the project or the state of the marketplace or the emptiness of our bank account. The enemy is resistance. —Steven Pressfield, Do the Work.

4. You have to do more research and you haven’t found the time for that

Time is the coin of your life. It is the only coin you have and only you can determine how it will be spent. Be careful lest you let other people spend it for you.— Carl Sandburg

What happens When We Finish?

A great sense of satisfaction warms our hearts from accomplishing a personal goal we set for ourselves. This is what we’re supposed to be doing. Changing. Growing. Risking. Learning.

We develop our craft. Maybe this story or book is not marketable, but the next one will be better. No learning is in vain.

We get to say it! We finished! We wrote the story, the novel, the memoir. That one thing alone tells the universe we are serious about expressing ourselves, and you know what happens when the universe takes notice.

Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative and creation, there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one commits oneself, then providence moves too. — Goethe

To Invite the Muse

Make space
Make time
Commit to your project
Work on a regular schedule
Learn what you don’t know
Keep going

Sometimes inspiration comes with a prayer, because you lit a candle, because you begged most earnestly. And sometimes,

You can’t wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club. –Jack London

March 10, 2024March 10, 2024

Where Does the Creative Self Live?

The inner world is endless and infinite. Pregnant with knowledge, it waits for us to turn our attention around so the birth of new ideas, new songs, and new stories can emerge into our everyday world .

The earliest depiction of the infinity concept comes from Ancient Egypt in the form of the Ouroboros—the image of a serpent or dragon eating its own tail. A symbol of eternity and renewal, harmony and balance, and cyclical rhythms, the infinity symbol has spoken through the ages to creatives and spiritual seekers.

Infinity is unlimited potential, and when you put it like that, you realize nothing is stopping you from expressing your authentic self.

But how do we do it? How do we find the right place? The right time?

The creative impulse stirs.

We listen.

We hear the whisper.

We dare new thoughts.

But the impetus fades. Disappointed and a little sad, we notice that the call to create requires more than an impassioned beginning. How do we recapture the feeling that something new is possible?

Ask the Creative Self for guidance, of course. But how?

Demanding that inspiration appear rarely works. That’s how the Greek Muses got their reputation for being flighty and unreliable. The Creative Self must be approached gently. With respect. As you approach that vast reservoir of creative energy, be humble.

The Creative Self operates on a different wavelength. She lives where time is spacious, measured in layers of meaning rather than hours and minutes. As in fairy tales, a day in the inner world might be a year in ours.

With the noise of everyday life, it isn’t easy to hear our authentic voice, which differs in kind from the repetitive mumblings of Practical Self.

You don’t have time for that now, Practical Self states, with smooth assurance.Learning to say no to Practical Self is a muscle that gets stronger with repetition.

Listening for the voice of Creative Self helps you notice how the negative messages of Practical Self reverberate through your mind. Noticing the blocks and letting them go clears the channel.

To deepen your communication with your Creative Self, try this simple exercise.

Sit quietly in a safe space where you will not be disturbed for ten minutes. If thoughts intrude, let them float by. If negative beliefs come up, say hello to them and bid them goodbye. Notice how your chest expands with each breath. Notice yourself as a conscious mind and a breathing body connected to the earth and sky.
Imagine all your repetitive thoughts collected in an enormous bubble that floats away at your command.

Imagine a golden mist covering all the repetitive thoughts like a warm blanket. The thoughts dissolve, leaving an open field of golden light where your Creative Self can play.

Try this before each creative session to deepen the connection to your inner world. Being still and receptive is an invitation. In stillness, Creative Self offers its gifts.

February 11, 2024February 12, 2024

Sharing Love

The ancient Egyptians and Greeks knew a lot about the human heart. They saw it as the seat of empathy and love, and the place to go when the intellect got stuck.

Modern science now confirms these intuitive beliefs about the physical heart as a source of inner guidance and even intelligence.

The physical heart is an information processing center, sending signals to the brain and the rest of the body. It has a complex nervous system, called the heart-brain, which talks to the head-brain. It produces a powerful electromagnetic field that is imprinted by our emotions. This explains why we sometimes perceive meaning intuitively through our heart faster than the head can process the same information.

The heart may be more important than the brain in calming the body, reducing stress, and increasing intuition. Getting the heart and brain to work in harmony is the key to living more peacefully.

The HeartMath Research Institute has developed tools to help us regulate our emotions and break the cycles of knee-jerk responses to stress. The beauty of their techniques is their simplicity. Anyone can use them to handle difficult emotions, change how they approach problems, and boost the immune system.

When heart and brain work together, that is called coherence, the opposite of feeling stressed. The more coherent our body systems are, the more we can rceive new ideas, understand connections, and experience the joy of expressing ourselves honestly.

Heart-brain coherence can be achieved at will by actively self-generating positive emotions like love, compassion, gratitude, appreciation, patience, and kindness.

Here is an example of a simple exercise you can do anytime you want to feel better, be more centered, and express more of your loving nature to those around you.

Focus your attention in the area of the heart. Imagine your breath is flowing in and out of your heart or chest area, breathing a little slower and deeper than usual. Find a rhythm easy for you.

2. Activate and sustain a regenerative feeling such as appreciation, gratitude, love, care or compassion. Think of a beloved person, pet, experience, or place to generate the feeling.

3. Continue breathing in and out from the area of our heart, slowly and deeply. Radiate that renewing feeling to yourself and others.

Here is a link to a free video course that includes information, PDFs to download, and the basic HeartMath techniques.

February 11, 2024February 11, 2024

Debut Novel by a Talented Storyteller

My friend, Gency Brown, recently published her first novel, A Right Fine Life. I attended her book launch party at one of our locally owned bookstores, Books on the Bosque, an excellent store that welcomes author events.

The book is a contemporary saga of a young man who dreams of becoming a country western recording artist and the challenges he encounters as he learns about the tradeoffs required to achieve fame. The research that went into this book made it come alive for me. I learned a lot about the behind-the-scenes world of country music. Gency is active in the country music community, and I asked her how important it was to write about a character breaking into the music business in her first book.

“I wasn’t ticking off an item on my bucket list,” she said. “The character grabbed me and told his story through my memories and imagination. I knew people like him. I wanted to show that not all country music stars are drunks or drug addicts. They’re good people in a hard business.”

When I asked Gency about her biggest challenge in bringing her story to life, she mentioned the editing process, and how valuable her beta readers were, as well as a helpful critique partner. Gency also mentioned that she attends writer’s conferences, always a wonderful source of information and inspiration.

Gency is retired, as are many of my writing students, and I asked her what advice she has for writers starting their books later in life. “Believe in your story and yourself,” Gency declared. “You bring a lifetime of experience to the work but never stop learning.” Good advice for us all.

Finishing a first novel and having it accepted by a traditional publisher is an enormous accomplishment, and when I asked her what was most rewarding about the process, she smiled and said, “Finishing! I had doubts throughout the writing, but kept going, and now I’m proud of the finished product.”

Given the enthusiastic crowd of well-wishers at the launch party, it was clear that her readers appreciate her efforts.

You can pick up a copy of A Right Fine Life at Amazon and and, of course, Books on the Bosque. Gency’s website is www.gencybrown.com and her social media is under gencybrownauthor. Her website blog offers insights into her writing process. Check it out for words of wisdom from a published author!

January 18, 2024January 20, 2024

2024! Here We Come, Ready or Not

A new year is exciting, scary, full of promise, hope, and maybe trepidation.

A time to look back on how we did last year. For remembering the goals we reached. For forgiving ourselves for those we didn’t. For being thankful for family, friends, lessons learned, doing good work, taking risks. For making it through.

I gave up on making new year’s resolutions long ago. They didn’t motivate me. I often lost the paper or file where I noted them.

Instead, I look at what I want to let go of. More than cleaning out the closets (which is good and helpful), I look at old ideas, used-up patterns, and beliefs that no longer serve. What can I change to make the coming year brighter, regardless of what’s going on in the outer world?

I can stop being overwhelmed by the details of projects I chose to do. Over booked and over-committed, I worry. Even when the project is self-inflicted. This makes me less productive. So, what is really important?

I’ve made my choices. I will finish the book I’m working on now. Set the marketing plan in place and then tackle the novel that is beckoning me to learn about new characters and discover their story. That means making time for research, finding new resources, and writing. How will that time fit with my other responsibilities? What might I have to let go of? (Maybe the misguided notion I can do everything, all the time, no matter what).

What about you? What’s the most important thing you want to spend time on in 2024? The project/idea/task/group/person that gives you the most joy? Go ahead, write it down. In your journal. No one will know.

What excites you the most about the possibilities for this project? Write what comes. There are no wrong answers.

Then ask yourself, what, if anything, stops me from giving this beloved activity the attention it deserves?

Intention can be tricky, the same way goals can be tricky. It’s easy enough to think, “lose ten pounds,” “paint the kitchen,” “write that story I dream about.”

To make our intention real, we write it, paint it, or make a collage. Anything to bring it into the physical world with us.

That’s the first step. We also need to acknowledge what stands in the way. What ideas, beliefs, old programming, or fears are waiting in the wings to sabotage us?

When we cling to the limitations of the past, we may not notice why the grand intention falls by the wayside, or the goal is forgotten.

For writers and non-writers alike, personal journaling helps to clear out the debris, toss what’s no longer needed, and develop new, shiny, resilient beliefs to keep us going.

Yes, there is enough time. Yes, you can do it. Yes, working toward your heart’s desire is worth it, even if it’s hard.

So, try it. Write morning pages. Tell your journal what you want, how you feel, what makes you angry, and how you’re going to move through this next year, brave and free.

You’re in charge. If you’re not satisfied with your story, change it! And let me know how it goes, cause I’m right beside you, changing mine.

September 3, 2023September 22, 2023

The Gift of Acceptance

When I attended a school in California to learn to meditate, a seven-week experiment turned into a three-year program of transformation. The teachers used no books or written material. All instruction was verbal, in the tradition of the great mystery schools of ancient times.

Similar to Gnosticism in its approach, at that unconventinal school we learned to understand and work with our energy systems. They taught us to find and release ideas, beliefs, experiences, and patterns that hindered us from being a clear channel for our own highest information. In other words, we learned how to invite direct perception of our own higher/deeper aspects that are connected to Source.

Over and over, we were reminded to “stay in present time” which was both a concept and a grounding technique.

This is a tall order. Although I learned how to accomplish it in my sacred meditation and reading spaces, ordinary life was more challenging.

Accepting what comes with an open heart is a key to healing. Only through accepting and noticing both positive and negative events can I learn what hidden beliefs and karmic conditions influence me through what psychology calls the “shadow” identity.

For me, the first step was to stop resisting. Another tall order, especially with losses and health issues. The second step could not happen until I accepted the actual conditions of my life and found the reason my biofield had attracted them. Then, change and healing became possible.

For some of us–stubborn, opinionated, and slow to learn–these steps are taken again and again.

Mindset matters. Looking for the lesson, the pearl, the elusive needle hidden in the chaff, is a habit of thought that develops over time. With practice.

Although “awakening” to Source was not where I started, it has become my lifelong journey. The lessons continue to come, showing me deeper levels of my experience than I ever dreamed of accessing.

All creative work, all soul work, creates resistance. I don’t know why; it seems a function of how our mental minds work. I learned to deal with it first in my writing, and those lessons have served me well. As long as I remember to stay humble. As one of my teachers said long ago, “We’re all bozos on this bus.”

Humor matters. So does compassion. We know about compassion for others. We strive to express it without erasing the boundaries that keep us safe. And some of us have to learn compassion for ourselves. A worthy goal.

Today I was inspired by the words of the Dalai Lama in his Bodhisattva Prayer for Humanity.

“May I be a guard for those who need protection

A guide for those on the path

A boat, a raft, a bridge for those who wish to cross the flood

May I be a lamp in the darkness

A resting place for the weary

A healing medicine for all who are sick

A vase of plenty, a tree of miracles

And for the boundless multitudes of living beings

May I bring sustenance and awakening

Enduring like the earth and sky

Until all beings are freed from sorrow

And all are awakened.”

August 7, 2023August 7, 2023

The Joy of Finishing

This week I finished a short story I’ve been noodling around with for about five years. It started with an image of an old woman building a circular wooden device in her backyard. I saw her in a seaside town on a New England island, threatened by rising sea levels. She refused to evacuate, instead collecting items from the people in the village to add to her circle, which would become a magical shrine.

The finished version is quite different. There is still an old woman, but she lives in ancient times and travels to a village being held hostage by armed invaders who are waiting for the harvest so they can steal it to supply their army stationed nearby. She builds a circle in the forest, constructed of stone, and collects items from the villagers for a shrine, although no one knows why.

I always knew how the story would end. Rarely do I start a story without knowing its end, although I may not know the middle. The end is the most satisfying part, and when I finished what I now call “Mosaic,” I realized why it took so long.

When I started, I had a vague grasp of what the character was doing, but not until I knew more about the transformation she would undergo did the piece come together.

That is often the way. The impulse comes. Sometimes an image. A character. A setting. A title. But not enough for a complete story.

Patience has never been one of my virtues, but I’ve learned that forcing my creative energy to bend to the demands of my analytical mind is not helpful.

In other areas of my life and work, setting goals and making plans works fine. In rewriting, editing, finding markets, developing classes, and working with students, a loving discipline is useful.

But not for the initial creation.

For that, I must wait. Surrender to the process. Sometimes a day or two. Sometimes years.

I used to judge myself for the waiting. Then I noticed that waiting is valuable. It allows the creative impulse to gather itself, to grow and become more than it was.

Slowly, I learned the rhythm and timing of my Creative Self, and stopped scolding it for not marching along as quickly as ego-mind preferred.

Not that I don’t work on other things while a story is germinating. Of course I do. One of my mentors paraphrased the well-known saying:

All things come to she who waits

If she who waits works like hell while she waits.

I take that seriously. I’m a writer. I write every day. But I don’t force myself to complete what is not ready.

There is joy in waiting.

In allowing.

In surrendering to the growth required before a complete story peeks out from behind the veil.

Finishing any creative project is worth celebrating, so no matter what happens to “Mosaic,” published or not, appreciated or not, I’m happy. I finished.