Tag Archives: Book Writing Saturday

Book Writing Saturday

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The truth is that sometimes there’s a need to yield, to soften, to surrender, to get out of the way of something bigger and faster than you, to give up even. Today feels like that kind of day.

This morning, we went on a mini hike with Dexter at Lory State Park. It’s been three weeks since he’s been there. That last hike was a real one: at least eight miles, most of it spent running. But then things shifted for him just enough that we decided that kind of exercise might be too much for him now, and the times since when Eric has gone with Sam, Dexter has waited at home with me. I was feeling so bad about it that I asked Eric to go this morning, so we could all be there together one more time, even if we couldn’t go that far. We still went about six miles, but we stayed down in the flat land, rather than hiking up in the rocks. We saw the sunrise and lots of deer, and I took a lot of pictures. It felt good to be there, together.

I have to admit though that this letting go is wearing me down. I am tired, depleted, and raw. My intention to work on this book, to keep going is every bit as intense as before, I just don’t have the energy right now to do anything more than to live it. Today I chose to spend what I have, energy and time, with my little family, to take comfort in that, and then to allow myself to rest.

Book Writing Saturday

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When I first read this message from the Universe, via Andrea Scher (given to me at her Mondo Beyondo session at the World Domination Summit this past summer), I knew it was true. I had absolutely no doubt about it.

I brought the note home with me, carrying it from Portland to Waldport, and then to Fort Collins as if it were a precious gift, a sacred text, a magic object. I placed it on my writing desk with a collection of other important, inspiring items, right where I would see it first thing every morning when I sat down to write.

Before I start a new project, and every Saturday when I sit down to start my four hours of work on my book, I read a prayer, an incantation that includes “I am here to lovingly and gently manifest the basic goodness that is at the heart of all, to embody wisdom and kindness, to be a warrior with a brave and tender heart.” Whether I remember to read it or not, this is always my intention, with my work, my art, my life.

It was clear to me when I first read my message from the Universe, written in Andrea’s handwriting, that “the dream” was to write and publish a book, the book I’ve been living, carrying in my heart. This was obvious to me, no doubt and no confusion. I though the “space” I was to make was obvious too–clear out the space in your schedule, make time. More specifically, I committed to these four hours, Book Writing Saturday.

I still think making time, committing to that is right, but it’s not everything. There is more to “making space” than just making time. Space is freedom. Space is unlimited and boundless, but also the measurable distance between, unoccupied, open, available. Space is the gap, the blank, the breath, the quiet between words. Space is what occupies this moment. Space is where my voice echoes and sounds, takes shape and is heard. Space is open and vast, can accommodate and contain anything and everything, or nothing.

I need to open up space, allow for things to arise (and dissolve) naturally while I remain open and available. I need to clear out the confusion and clutter, quiet the chatter, to simplify, to surrender, to let go. The other part of the book that needs space is the part I’m living, losing the 2nd dog in three years to cancer. Losing Obi started this book, this life rehab, and here I am again. This loss, this letting go needs my attention, my time, my awareness.

I am here to lovingly and gently manifest the basic goodness that is at the heart of all, to embody wisdom and kindness, to be a warrior with a brave and tender heart.