Dear Reader 3.7.21

Dear Reader,

If there’s anything more lovely than having the time and space to luxuriate in a sunrise in early March, I haven’t found it yet. Despite having a long (and ever-growing) list of to-dos to accomplish before heading back to school tomorrow, I allowed myself to watch the orange yolk of the sun crack the horizon and grow big, fat, and bright in the east sky before I got out of bed. It truly felt like an indulgence. I make a habit of watching sunrises in summer and on vacation, but with the darkness in Ohio and early arrival times to school, I’ve spent the last 26 years watching sunrises from behind a classroom window. This was such a delicious moment, I know I’ll carry it with me.

On the idea of carrying things with you, what kind of beliefs do you carry with you about your writing process, skills or abilities? This week’s Let’s Write lesson focuses on allowing yourself the space to create, and how you can think through the things that tend to close you in. The lesson came from an insight from my coursework with Lorin Roche to become a meditation teacher, and I was immediately struck by how it applies to the writer as well. Curious? Read more here: Let’s Write: Creating Mental Space.

I’ve been playing around with words in myriad forms, this week’s offerings coming out in the form of an article on the value of longhand writing, a poem on a summer memory shared with my sister, and thoughts about what I’m looking forward to most this spring.

I will admit that this week’s writing was affected by some deep emotional lows I had to work through, but as always, the flow resumed through the use of my morning pages. I’d be lost without them. Do you use morning pages? I’d love to hear how they help your process.

It’s nearing mid-morning and the sun is now higher overhead than where I left it last, streaming in my bedroom window. It’s calling me to a long walk to process the spaces where I’ve been over the last 11.95 months away from school, and inviting me to create the foundation of a week that neither I nor my students have ever experienced before–or probably ever will again. Time for the walking shoes! Wishing you a week full of walks and words.

I’ll let you know how it goes next week.