Writing without Sight--March 13: Slice of Life Challenge #SOLC 2015: 13/31

Writing without Sight

I woke up this morning, long before my alarm clock, thinking...thinking, thinking, thinking. I couldn't get back to sleep. My teacher's mind, last night, was a very, very busy place. How often we speak of and know and experience the benefits of reflection, but sometimes it can all go too far. That is where the true benefit of writing comes in for me.

I can actually think too much, reflect too much, and drive myself crazy with things that are out of my control.

So today, I got up, way too early, I know--and sought out the perfect release for me. For a long time, I'd dipped in and then out of Julia Cameron's daily morning pages book, The Artist's Way.

Morning writing, emptying myself of external distractions by putting it all down on the page, has freed me to be more open to my own creative path. Three pages each day, every day. For a while, I filled binders with thoughts and ramblings, clearing the way for characters in my fiction writing to become vivid and then fill up a different page.

But lately, I have not been writing...not fictionally, anyway. This month, blogging daily, has got me back in story mode. But there's a lot I'd never say publicly, and I do need to clear my brain every day. The dishes get run through the dishwasher, and my cluttered brain needs a good washing too.

So this morning, sitting upright, I've processed my worries and put them away.

The creative inside me is ready to being to play--an idea I saw on Tara's page at Two Writing Teachers has popped into my head from yesterday. It was a wonderful piece yesterday about how often in writing we overdo it on the visuals and short change the other senses in our work.

So...Writing without Sight--(well, almost)

I sit in darkness, with nothing but the palest light of the moon. The heating unit rattles and kicks up a blast of warmth that toasts by just-out-of-bed cold feet. Padding paws followed me up a creaky wooden ramp, first into the linoleum-floored kitchen, then a the darkened sunroom. A soft velvet couch cushion awaits, and my large puppy, a shadow coated in black, plops down and begins to lick, lick, lick laying atop his cushioned bed. It's way too early for food...and somehow he knows not to beg.

Morning wind kicks up outside, windows rattle, and the rich smell of strong coffee, once again, fills my nostrils and calls my name. But it's the soft sound of a snoring dog, his wet nose stretched over my bare feet, that holds me there, captivated by this soft golden mass of fur. Time stands still...no thoughts, no worries, I'm caught in this moment willing to stay here for as long as he needs.

But then, my alarm sounds...he pops up and stretches, and that wet nose is poking my knee. Now is the time, he knows, for his favorite sound; the cascading crunchies rattling the sides of his porcelain bowl. Time for the morning feast!

I love these early writing mornings. Time and thought stand still. Because I am, unlike that snow globe, filled with thoughts and worries and sensations when laying down, often more settled, released when awake.

Slice of Life Challenge: 

For the month of March, I'm participating in a daily writing challenge, blogging, and posting, and reading other teachers' blogs. This challenge was started by two writing teachers, and can be found at their blog each day: www.twowritingteachers.wordpress.com. Feel free to join me! It's a great way to keep story threading throughout your brain each day.