The past four hours weren’t just about book writing, but also about book making and book reading and book research. I showed up, kept my heart open, and trusted my innate wisdom about where to focus my attention, where to put my hands, where to place my heart.
I started with writing about simplicity and the tiny sacred moments of our lives, about fear and story, about making space for magic to unfold.
Then I read from Mark Nepo’s The Book of Awakening and Brene’ Brown’s Daring Greatly, and I wrote some more. I poked around Austin Kleon’s website. I looked at Christina Rosalie’s A Field Guide to Now, flipping through the pages and looking at the artwork. This is the kind of research I do when I’m writing. I had a silent, one sided, but very real conversation with each author, asking questions and offering gratitude.
After that, I moved to book making, working on a belated birthday present for a friend who I’ll be meeting for lunch later. I scissored, printed, and glue sticked images and wrote lines of poetry, quotes, and writing prompts in a journal whose cover I had painted earlier this summer.
What the above picture can’t show are the tears, the big idea I got, the glue that’s dried on my fingers, the hunger in my belly, the sound of Greg Laswell singing in the background, and the tenderness, the surrender, the letting go.
Open Space Practice, (AKA: A Thousand Shades of Gray) 
Oh Jill, this is just lovely! You inspire with each post you write. I posted my second blog post yesterday and it still was a bit scary, but I’m really happy to now be “a blogger.”
I’d love to know more about the book you made, I mean how you did it. I’ve decided this year to “Unplug from the Christmas Machine,” the name of a book I bought at the beach, and want to make homemade gifts as much as possible. The journal you made sounds very much like an amazing gift for a couple of my children and friends. Can you share? BTW, I just can’t wait to read YOUR book and am hoping for a signed copy from you!! xoxo
We did all handmade Christmas presents last year too. I made Eric a book that I called “The Story of Us,” and even made myself one, used the blankish pages of a datebook he gave me and pasted in all kinds of inspiration for myself. For this one I just did, I found a blank journal (Moleskins with the brown paper covers work really well) and decorated the front (I painted the background, then attached an image I liked from a magazine, and painted over that, then sealed it with ModPodge). Then inside, I pasted images I’d printed out or ones I cut from magazines, and wrote lines of poetry or writing prompts that fit, one for about every five blank pages. It’s basically like making a scrapbook, but because she’s a writer, I wanted there to be room for her to fill in her own stuff. I’ve also made photo albums for my parents where I wrote something to go with each photo, so there was one page with a picture and the facing page was something I wrote, so kind of like a book. You should totally do a “things I’ve learned” book for your grandkids.
Your gift sounds wonderful!
Thanks, Kathryn–she loved it.
This is beautiful; the idea that our writing encompasses so much more than the words on the page. (Also? I agree wholeheartedly with tinakomi above – every blog post feels like a love letter to the world and always provides so much inspiration. Thank you.)
You’re welcome, Stephanie!
And thank you for framing it that way–that is a gift to me. As a writer and practitioner, don’t you find it hard to separate when you are writing, when you are practicing, from when you are doing anything else? The lines for me are completely blurring, and I’ve decided I won’t fight it anymore–it’s all just living, (and yet, I am still committed to four hours of setting my intention on writing this book each Saturday).
*nod* I agree. That the lines blur for me at times (especially as I’m moving toward teaching more practice than previously in my life), so I spend a lot more time in this space than I did.
I also think you make a really good point about setting aside specific time with intention. Like, I still like to set aside specific time to sit, or do writing practice specifically. That there is value and it’s really important (in my mind and understanding) that our post-meditation time encompasses the meditation practice we do… but, we need to have the specific act of making the time. (Does that make sense? It does in my head, but I’m not sure it’s translating well.)
Yep, it’s both: I am acting intentionally, but then I also find there are other times that I am acting in the same way naturally, or without having to intend it.
Perhaps dharma seeping in, as you’re allowing yourself to marinate in it? 🙂
🙂
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