Writing in circles
When in doubt, run in circles.
This vague suggestion is my fail-proof method used in circus or theatre workshops when inspiration is hungover, taking a break or left the room. It is a strategy I have relied upon many times.
It is always surprising what can spiral out from the energy of circular motion.
My writing has found its pause-button and is using it indiscriminately. I try to accept its (hopefully) temporary status as just part of the process. But perhaps the process itself is flawed?
I have learnt that my process might be described by some as Pantser. That is, flying by the seat of my pants. I would prefer something sounding more respectful. 'Winging it' perhaps? But this doesn't quite cut it either. Pantser. Hmmmm. This illustrious term ignores the glamour of more favourable adjectives such as: intuitive, creative, spontaneous. It is suggestive of a whimsical, superficial approach that remains aloof from any thorough, rational, logical or methodological crafting.
I don't like this word. At all. It rides on a sneer, a ridicule. It reminds me that until recently, the logical and the rational asserted positions of superiority over the emotional or responsive. The Yin/Yang, Feminine/Masculine polarity immersed in judgement.
However, the concept of Pantser as opposed to the word itself, is more acceptable. It suggests a connection to stream of conscious thought, a creative flow. I don't mind this. Elizabeth Gilbert's TED Talk on Your Elusive Creative Genius offers a wonderful example of such processes.
The difficulty I am experiencing has probably less to do with creative flow, although there is definitely a blockage somewhere up stream, and more to do with Discipline (yes with a capital D). That structured time frame where my writing (should) take priority over all things: domestic tasks, coffee with friends, workout at the gym, cycling, genial lunches, oh and did I happen to mention a new granddaughter? It is an extensive list of love and toil that conveniently invites procrastination into the mix.
It is timely to consider the appropriateness of my own advice. In this case, to write in circles. With the expressed desire to entice new words onto a clean page.
Pause. Reflect. Within the circles I hear one of my favourite Pink Floyd songs':
I have run my circles and am back where I started. I am at a stage of my process where my daemons are toying with me. Daemons of distraction, craving, ignorance, darkness. And perhaps confusion for you, dear reader. Sorry about that.
This vague suggestion is my fail-proof method used in circus or theatre workshops when inspiration is hungover, taking a break or left the room. It is a strategy I have relied upon many times.
It is always surprising what can spiral out from the energy of circular motion.
My writing has found its pause-button and is using it indiscriminately. I try to accept its (hopefully) temporary status as just part of the process. But perhaps the process itself is flawed?
I have learnt that my process might be described by some as Pantser. That is, flying by the seat of my pants. I would prefer something sounding more respectful. 'Winging it' perhaps? But this doesn't quite cut it either. Pantser. Hmmmm. This illustrious term ignores the glamour of more favourable adjectives such as: intuitive, creative, spontaneous. It is suggestive of a whimsical, superficial approach that remains aloof from any thorough, rational, logical or methodological crafting.
I don't like this word. At all. It rides on a sneer, a ridicule. It reminds me that until recently, the logical and the rational asserted positions of superiority over the emotional or responsive. The Yin/Yang, Feminine/Masculine polarity immersed in judgement.
However, the concept of Pantser as opposed to the word itself, is more acceptable. It suggests a connection to stream of conscious thought, a creative flow. I don't mind this. Elizabeth Gilbert's TED Talk on Your Elusive Creative Genius offers a wonderful example of such processes.
The difficulty I am experiencing has probably less to do with creative flow, although there is definitely a blockage somewhere up stream, and more to do with Discipline (yes with a capital D). That structured time frame where my writing (should) take priority over all things: domestic tasks, coffee with friends, workout at the gym, cycling, genial lunches, oh and did I happen to mention a new granddaughter? It is an extensive list of love and toil that conveniently invites procrastination into the mix.
It is timely to consider the appropriateness of my own advice. In this case, to write in circles. With the expressed desire to entice new words onto a clean page.
Pause. Reflect. Within the circles I hear one of my favourite Pink Floyd songs':
"running over the same old ground
what have we found
the same old fears ..."
Running/writing in circles lets you do this - lets you see where you have been. Observation reveals tangents arising from the motion. Filtered out, sifted through. I can see through the smoke and mirror game I am playing with myself. I am guilty of distorting the vision, distracting the thought.
Discipline is a major issue. That is for sure. But my lack of discipline has nothing to do with motivation. Stripped bare, I can see by its nakedness that it is fear-based.
Again, pause. Reflect
Again, pause. Reflect
I have completed a lot of research and now know things I never knew before. I have paddled in the murky depths and pulled things up to the surface, into the light. Upon closer examination, I have discovered jewels that glitter: women's history to be released back into our lives.
I have netted catch-phrases, such as "historical not archetypal" when discussing Mary Magdalene and Jesus. And firmed my perception of that thing called religion.
I have netted catch-phrases, such as "historical not archetypal" when discussing Mary Magdalene and Jesus. And firmed my perception of that thing called religion.
The centrifugal force of 'running in circles' brings to mind some advice from a friend offered at the beginning process of writing A New Day.
"Darling, no more talk of the book. Gathering to self not dissipating to others. dear woman. protect the idea, gestate within."
But holding it in is causing a fester.
I have run my circles and am back where I started. I am at a stage of my process where my daemons are toying with me. Daemons of distraction, craving, ignorance, darkness. And perhaps confusion for you, dear reader. Sorry about that.
Time to harness my courage, seek clarity and pick at the loose threads that threaten to unravel before I even begin. Lets do this together shall we?
You already know some of this ...
I heard about a tour that involved research about Mary Magdalene.
I was enthralled and inspired.
Another book? I questioned.
Yes. I decided.
Seen from the eyes of a girl. There was a sense of looking up at the towering figure of Mary.
I called her Sara.
Then I learnt that Mary's child was called Sarah-Tamar.
Oh dear. I didn't want to write from the perspective of a 'real' person.
So I decided on a companion, Sophia.
Only to learn that Sophia means Wisdom. Sophia is also integral to the Gnostic's myth of the fall and restoration of Pistis Sophia.
Do I write from the perspective of Wisdom?
I struggle. My writing reveals this struggle between different voices of narration, and the essence of a story is lost as it slips through the cracks of indecision.
I no longer know what it is I am writing about.
I no longer know what it is I am writing about.
What is my story?
I flounder.
Discipline seems the least of my problems.
I do the only thing I can.
I sit in this cesspool of doubt and confusion and I wait.
While I wait I continue my research.
I read novels and think about their crafting, point of view and narrative voice.
Most importantly, I trust in the process.
Even though I have no idea.
There is a story lurking in the shadow. I need to create or enable a space for it to come into. I need to back off from harsh judgement and restore my faith in what I do. What I want to do.
I need to listen. Carefully.
Somewhere in my notes I remember I have written a framework. I will clean up my desk and retrieve this.
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