Creativity, Trauma, and My Beautiful Selfishness

Last weekend I ran away for “my selfish weekend.” Alone and unplugged, I focused on creativity and restoration.

I painted. I walked in the woods. I made collage. I drew a bubble chart of my projects. I wrote poems, worked on my novel.

I’d tossed into my bag Healing from Trauma: A Survivor’s Guide to Understanding Your Symptoms and Reclaiming Your Life. I picked it up. It came to me in a fresh wave that indeed, I survived chronic childhood trauma.

One thing trauma does is shut a person down. Creativity opens a person up.

As I’ve learned to express myself, I’ve woken up to life.

And life isn’t about being comfortable.

Over the past year, emotions have sharpened. The life force insisted I pay more attention to my inner world.  I tackled creative growth with a fierce, new selfishness.

Yet there’s been a sticky sense of guilt. Part of me wants to go back to being the person I used to be.

And, honestly, the people around me have been less than thrilled. One family member said, “Everything’s about you, you, you.”

I could explain what’s happening as healing from post-traumatic stress. Or I could grab another label: midlife crisis, perimenopause, empty nest syndrome, soul recovery.

Or I can just call this my beautiful selfishness.

As I told one friend, “I can hardly believe myself. I’ve started doing what I really want to do. I am not all about my husband and kids anymore. I’ve stopped asking permission.”

“Oh, then it’s balanced,” she said.

“What?”

“It’s balanced. When your kids were young, when you were newly married, you focused on everyone else. You spent years doing that. This is a time of putting things into balance.”

I came across this in Healing from Trauma:

“It’s okay to enjoy yourself,” writes author Jasmin Lee Cori. “It’s okay to let go of others’ suffering as well as your own and for a little time be ‘selfish.’ Actually it’s not selfish; it’s self-regeneration. It’s a very human capacity that helps keep us alive.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yes, giving ourselves time and permission to create, play, and heal can feel selfish. But it’s our birthright. It’s being alive.

I must claim all of this if I’m going to help anyone else do the same. The more care I give my soul, the more I can care for others.

This selfishness is crucial to wholeness.

It’s balanced.

It’s beautiful.

 

 

National Poetry Month: You Expand the Definition

To highlight National Poetry Month, I’ve been talking in Burn Wild class about how each poet brings something new to the definition of poetry.

Poetry was never e.e. cummings or Mary Oliver or William Stafford until they created their work in the world, released their voice, and expanded what poetry could be.

In the same way, even if you’ve never written a poem, you can decide for yourself what you like and what your boundaries are. You can celebrate your own way of seeing things. You can choose where to place the words on the page. And suddenly: poetry is now expanded by the presence of a new poet.

Here is how Wildfire Writer Susan Gordinier expands the definition of poetry:

The Poem

A new way to see

Inside

A way to let

Inside

Out

A journey

A discovery

A road map

A vacation

A path that brings you

Roundabout—

About what to say

How to take the think

And make

New something

A new

Feeling

A

Release

A let it go

Catharsis

Yes

 

I do like poems

Because i

Don’t like

VERBOSE

 

And I also

Like

Rhythm

And

The taste

Of the

Words

in

My

mouth

 

And

That

Is

How

I

Want

To

write

–Susan Gordinier

Now I’d like to invite other Wildfire Writers – those of you who are using a ten-minute practice you’ve learned in my class or elsewhere – to share your poems with me. I’d love to show them off during this month. Post them on the Wildfire Writing Facebook page and some might even find their way here.

Keep saying what you need to say, the way you want to say it . . .

Resources for National Poetry Month

This is it!  National Poetry Month is the time to be surrounded by inspirational resources. You could write your very first poem, or collection of poems.

Never-too-late---leafThe poet William Stafford lived the spirit of National Poetry Month before such a thing existed. He wrote a poem every day – just calling it that, calling it good, even when he didn’t feel his work measured up. He made the call that it was good enough.

Another of my favorite Oregon writers, Brian Doyle, shared some words about Stafford with the Portland Tribune. “I love the fact that he thought everyone was a poet, if only we pay attention to the miracle of what is and report on it without fuss and bluster.”

Paying attention to the miracle of what is. Making a report. So simple.

Here are some resources for National Poetry Month:

And a way to see if you might be a poet, even if you’ve never considered it before. Because it’s a good time for that.

Dan Berne and The Gods of Second Chances

I’m damn lucky to know a human being like Dan Berne, whom I met last fall through the fireball known as Laura Stanfill.

Dan’s down-to-earth kindness impressed me; his wife, Aliza, had her own stories to tell and a dazzling smile.

DSC09120

I love it when nice humans turn out to be hardworking and amazing at their craft. This is the case with Dan Berne.

And humanity is what I love about The Gods of Second Chances, published by Forest Avenue Press.

Dan’s characters are flawed, vulnerable people with relatable longings and regrets.

I am impressed by the blend of action and emotion. The book moves at a beautiful clip, depicting how we can get hurt in family, using this hurt to defend ourselves against the world.

What’s more, I’ve been doubly, even triply blessed, to hear Dan read his work at the fabulous Powell’s launch of The Gods of Second Chances last month.

Then, he was guest in my classroom. Dan visited “Finding Your Stride,” my March co-teaching adventure with Sage Cohen. Sage and I were front row beneficiaries of Dan’s wisdom on how to build characters who pull you in.

Together with our wonderful writing students, we soaked up Dan’s stories behind the story.

headerI’m not sure how it works, scientifically, but knowledge peaks through live human contact. I’m sure of it.

When I meet the writer, then read his work, there’s a transference of strength and possibility.

 

It resonates through a handshake, a smile, a voice.

It’s not the same by reading merely, or by admiring work from afar.

There’s something about having that writer hand you their book, signed by their pen, warmed by their hands. And it’s exciting to realize this writer’s success grew out of working in a community, getting support and encouragement from other human beings on a weekly basis.

Being willing to be real, to be human, to risk reaching out – it shows in Dan’s stories. It shows in his life.

Effortless: The Swan

swan-March-12My word for 2014 is “effortless.” Last night I finished up a delightful workshop series that perfectly expressed what it means to be effortless. I taught alongside the lovely and wise Sage Cohen. Together, we imparted lessons on finding momentum in the writing life.

Our insights dovetailed in uncanny ways. With no discussion, we blogged the exact same words within hours of each other. Then there was the day we came to class chewing gum. “Actually, I haven’t chewed gum in years,” I said. “Me neither,” she said, and we both delivered our wads to the trash, laughing.

At the same time, we noticed and appreciated the difference in our approaches. I’m an intuitive, spontaneous teacher who uses visuals and “big picture” questions to access the now. Sage is thorough and full of foresight, enabling students to design their future and see what comes next.

What we expressed to our students is that each writer needs to find her own style, her own way, without judgment. Once you understand what you love to do, what comes naturally to you, and who you really are, everything is easy. Momentum is easy.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this swan. So awkward on land, it finds grace and support on the water. There is a place where you, too, are at ease and in your element.

Are you trying to be another kind of writer or creative person? Let it go. Die to that. Come alive to who you really are. Let others surround you who understand and complement you. See how the waters part, effortlessly.

 

By the way, Sage is my special guest this evening at the Cascade Park Community Library in Vancouver, Washington at 7 pm. She will be speaking on “Writing as Transportation through Transformation.”

On What Makes A Real Writer

I received this note:

I’ve gone back and forth about writing and decided it was time to reach out. Dr. Codger is killing me lately.

I’m feeling like a sham as if any day someone will look under the sheet and say “Ah ha! We knew you couldn’t be a writer. Who did you think you were you fooling?”

I’m reading your book and employing all the tricks I know to shut him up but it feels like Dr. Codger is winning. Do/did you suffer from severe self-doubt? Even though I’ve written my way through my life, maybe I’m not really a writer?

This letter went right to my heart. I know exactly how it feels to be riddled with self-doubt, and it’s no picnic.

There are times even now, after more than twenty years of calling myself a writer, when I doubt myself and my work.

That internal critic and killjoy, Dr. Codger, says things like: “Well, sure, you’ve published stories and poems and books and such. But what about your autobiographical novel? It hasn’t sold to a publisher. You must not be a real writer.”

Or: “If you were a real writer, you wouldn’t procrastinate. I mean, it’s been over two months since you’ve put out a newsletter!”

Or: “If you were a real writer, you would never have had to self-publish your last book.”

Or: “If you were a real writer, people would notice your stories and poems when they come out, instead of ignoring them.”

All of these thoughts seem part of a diabolical design to tear me down and make me relinquish the proud title of “writer.”

Here’s the deal. I’m a real writer because I write. The end results of my work are not up to me. Whether a publisher wants my words, or whether an audience purchases my book, or whether I am noticed and celebrated or utterly ignored—these things are not what determine my path.

Neither will it stop me if I am feeling critical of my own work, or dissatisfied with my stories, or frustrated with a project. It won’t stop me, that is, unless I let it.

It’s so easy to let feelings and circumstances tell us who we are. But as the above writer said, “I’ve written my way through life.”

Despite all opposition, there it is: the deep-down pull to create. That desire won’t go away, no matter how much discouragement there is at the surface level.

Yield to the call.

Decide it is more important than your doubts.

 

Small and Slow is Beautiful: What Matters to An Author

2 tiny snail

Yesterday, putting pen to paper seemed like a waste of time. The thought crossed my mind: “Who am I touching with my writing, anyway?”

A too-critical mindset looks for reasons the work isn’t valid. Or gets you into comparing, by the numbers. “How many people are buying and reading my last book?” for instance.

Our society loves to rate and measure. Just today, I got a message that my Klout score went up. Does this make a rat’s ass of difference in the world?

Numbers have nothing to do with real success.

Yesterday I also heard from a couple of budding writers. One told me, “Thank you for sharing these poems, your story, with me. Thank God for nature, and art, and a few kind words.” The other writer had been having a hard day, and explained, “Once I settled in and started reading your book, it was like, okay.”

What matters is that I do the work I’ve been given to do.

What matters are these humans: one, two. Two seems like a pretty small number. But who can truly measure the value and beauty of those human beings, on this single day in time, and how by some grace I was able to help them?

These are the two people I will think about as I continue, day after day, the long, slow work of scribbling on the page.

Smallness, slowness, has its own beauty.

Untranslatable Words, shows a lot about different cultures

See on Scoop.itCreativity

Click to see the pic and write a comment…

Christi Krug‘s insight:

Love the concept! This opens us up to learning from other cultures at the deepest root, language. 

 

Just yesterday on Jonathan Goldstein’s NPR show, Wire Tap, a Welsh word debated to mean either "longing for what you don’t have," or "a longing to be in Wales."

See on 9gag.com

The Enneagram for Awakening: Old Egos and New Heroes

See on Scoop.itArtful and Mindful Living

www.enneagramplayground.com From the Muppets to Mother Teresa, enneagram fixations are everywhere. Eckhart Tolle and Abraham-Hicks have been a massive help t…

Christi Krug‘s insight:

What is the enneagram? A delightful key to what drives you. 

 

It’s humbling and freeing all at the same time to find out that your stumbling blocks aren’t unique.

 

For example, I was shocked to discover that my lifelong complaint, "No one understands me" was the common perspective of type 4.

 

In any case, I’m loving Joshua French’s perspectives on the enneagram, and according to his great video introduction, I’m Kermit the Frog.

 

Sigh. It’s not easy being green.

 

 

See on www.youtube.com

Margaret Atwood’s Creative Process | Margaret Atwood | Big Think

See on Scoop.itWriting

For the author, it’s not a question of sitting around and wondering what to write; it’s a question of deciding which of the “far-fetched and absurd” ideas she’s going to try to tackle.

Christi Krug‘s insight:

(Clink on above link to read article.)

 

Roll with it! I love Atwood’s concept of using the rolling barrage. Doing two creative processes at once works if you use both the conscious and subconscious, both the active and "asleep" modes, paying attention always to timing. . 

See on bigthink.com

Kurt Vonnegut’s 8 rules for writing a short story – BookBaby Blog

See on Scoop.itWriting

Christi Krug‘s insight:

(Click on the link to read the 8 rules.)

 

I recently went through a collection of Vonnegut’s early short fiction. It was apparent that he was forming these rules, even then.

 

I especially like "Be a sadist." So many times, writers fall in love with their characters and want nothing bad to happen to them. This makes for a happy daydream, but a terrible short story.

 

Another important rule: number 3: every character should want something. I like to amp up that wanting and make the thing terribly, terribly important to my character – and have consequences to the character if she doesn’t get it.  

See on blog.bookbaby.com

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