And Now, You Write

Today's prompt will help you to experience Writing Bliss with "And Now You Write" #ANYW2010

You are welcome to join “And Now You Write” at any point.Your timing is just right to write with us.

Writing Prompt(s) for today:

I experience bliss when I.........

I experience delight when I......

I experience perfect contentment when I.....

 

Please feel free to participate in our next optional teleconference writing sessions which are held daily at 8:30 AM Pacific time.

Simply dial the Access Number: 1-712-432-3100 and enter the Conference Code: 440137

Today we will explore the concept of "heaven"
in a slightly different way.

Instead of thinking of "heaven" as a place
which is removed from us - and something
claimed only by a particular religious group -
instead we will claim heaven as "a place or
condition of utmost happiness" - which, not
surprisingly, is one of the definitions of
heaven as given by our dear friend,
Merriam Webster.

A story: It was quiet, sunny morning that I felt heaven
deeply in my body - all the way to the cells
within my inner organs, muscles and bones.

To the outside observer, it may have appeared
as "Woman sitting on the porch in the early
morning with pencil and notepad in hand." It
was much more than that.

There is something about the freshness of the
early morning air that makes my heart leap
from my chest with joy.

I took a deep breath, smiled and connected
with my pencil and the page.

I reached into heaven and divinity reached
back.

This experience of heaven is something
available to each of us every single day.
Frequently the choice is to just not access
heaven. We get too busy with our hectic
schedules or our "have-to-dos" and "gotta-dos'
to just allow that little tickling in our center to
open up, to welcome heaven in and then
break the doorway to heaven wide open.

This morning when my children awaken, they
will experience a post-heavenly visit Mom
instead of a tired, what is next on our
relentless to-do-list-Mom.

My clients will hear a coach who is a smidgen
lighter.

My neighbors will receive a more authentic
smile as we greet each other.

The simplest result is I will feel better so that
I will produce higher quality work, give with
more abundance and the reward will be
that much sweeter. Not because I am looking
or pushing or striving for the sweet reward: it
will manifest simply because I chose today
to reach into heaven first.

I connected with that which brings me peace,
joy, tranquility, freedom and allows me to
contemplate and contribute in a way that
invokes grandeur into each subsequent
experience.

Your method of accessing heaven is, most
likely, personalized especially for you. It might
be similar to mine and it might be completely
different.

It is up to you to experiment with different
methods and techniques through following
the call of your heart. For example, if you find
you really feel connected when you are out in
your garden, create a daily means – a context
of a sacred, set aside time – a "me" time --
of being out in your garden. If you feel really
vibrant when you play the piano, set aside
some sacred time to play the piano.

Pay attention to what brings out your vitality
and follow that vitality to your experience
of heaven.

Is there freshness in your life that you can
connect with regularly?

Can you recall an experience with traces
of heaven connected to it?

In a moment I will be speaking words
which connect with heaven.

As you hear me speak the words, literally
breathe the energy of each word, one by
one, into your body.

Direct the energy of your breath (which you
will have filled with these expansive words)
into your heart.

Listen, breathe, and connect now to

bliss - paradise - glory - enchantment -
blessing - joy - perfect contentment - euphoria -
delight - exhilaration - gratitude - love -
transcendence

Take a moment to allow the energy of these
words to really feel the abundant energy
as it continues to echo through your body.

Prepare to write:

We are going to now write our experience of
heaven so that we can both be present to
the circumstances that connect us to delight
and also to deliberately attract more joy,
more exhilaration, more contentment into
our everyday experience.

If your pencil slows during our writing time,
simply restate the prompt, perhaps using a
slightly different word for "bliss" from the list
of heavenly words we just used to fill our souls.

I will begin your writing time with several
variations - allow your pencil to begin moving
right away - and choose the prompt which most
resonates for you.

Writing Prompt:

I experience bliss when I.........

I experience delight when I......

I experience perfect contentment when I.....

And Now You Write Throughout the Day

Experiencing heaven is as simple as
making a choice to honor yourself.

Today purposefully create a time of
bliss, a time of delight, a time of
perfect contentment, a time of heaven -
even amongst your regular routine tasks.

Once you master experiencing delight,
contentment, bliss and heaven while
doing such mundane tasks as grocery
shopping, vacuuming and cleaning the
kitchen, you will have not only a remarkable
life, your writing will be filled with
bliss, delight, contentment and be
absolutely heavenly.

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I am so grateful to be writing together with you.

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Writers, Poets: Try "And Now You Write" Prompt for today: When my heart opens, I....

You are welcome to join “And Now You Write” at any point. Your timing is just right to write with us.

Today's Prompt: When my heart opens, I....

  

  Listen to today's audio here:

Please feel free to participate in our next optional teleconference writing sessions which are held daily at 8:30 AM Pacific time.

Simply dial the Access Number: 1-712-432-3100 and enter the Conference Code: 440137

Truths to remember:

As writers, we must choose to trust ourselves.

When we stay open to learning from our

deepest feelings  and when we see it is

definitely safe to write them on the

page –our lives and our writing will

both be transformed.

 

It starts with permission.

 

Allow yourself to be pure, raw and completely

Yourself as you grow with each word you write.

 

Trust yourself as a writer and as a person.

 

Know your right readers connect with your heart

message no matter what shape or direction my

writing takes today.

 

Speaking of heart feelings, one of the masters

of feeling with the heart was Helen Keller. This

quote from her is famous:

 

“The best and most beautiful things in the world

cannot be seen, nor touched ... but are felt in

the heart.”

 

Heart-feelings. Helen Keller has been a hero of mine

since I was a little girl. I completely understand

this quote. I feel this quote in my blood, in my

bones, in my vocal chords.

 

Today we will explore deep moments of emotion.

 

Open your mind heart to receive that clear, emotional

memory as you listen to a story from my life.

It was a Saturday morning a couple years ago and

it began like many other of my days: calendar filled

with errands, places to be, people to see,

conversations to have and tasks to complete.

 

It was after the first couple hours driving around

that I started getting flustered.

 

I could not find my walkman. The Walkman I

could live without: I had only had it for several weeks.

The upset was from the tape that

was lost along with the Walkman.

 

It was the recording of the music I was preparing

for an upcoming recital.

 

The music is "Vedrai, Carino" by Mozart. It is my first

attempt at singing an Aria.

 

I learned the song phonetically as I do not speak Italian.

Until now, I have never sung in Italian. English,

German and Latin, yes.

 

Italian? Not at that point.

 

Katherine, my then eleven-year-old listened patiently

as I recounted where the missing Walkman might

be hiding, barely out of reach.

 

As I took a breath, she said with her face filled

with peace and calm: "Mommy, I know you like

challenges. I wonder, though, why you didn't

choose to learn the language before you

decided to sing the song?"

 

I did the motherly thing.

 

I kept driving without answering.

 

As we entered a parking lot, I explained that

Celine Dion sang English before she spoke it.

 

What I found difficult to put into words was how

it felt to sing the aria itself, to lose myself in words

I do not understand beyond the feeling they give

me and the meaning I read in the English

translation.

 

How do I describe to daughter how my heart feels

as my voice soars to hit a whole string of high notes

I never thought I could sing?

 

How do I explain how it feels to begin the note in my

belly and have it roll up through my heart and out the

top of my head, ring through my ears and then

down my arms and out my hands?

 

How do I explain the tears that filled my eyes

without warning and the chills which run from the

top of my neck to the base of my spine?

 

Katherine questioned me about my love of

challenges.

 

Challenges? Did she mean trials, problems,

"gaps"? I choose to see it differently.

 

What if we looked at challenges as callings?

 

Challenges may be used to pull us out of

the muck and mire of limiting beliefs.

Nothing has worked better for me in

processing false expectations and both

past and present sadness or hurt.

 

I found my walkman and my tape before the end

of the day. I practiced "Vedrai" in many small

chunks throughout the next two

days.

 

As Monday morning dawned, I woke up hearing

myself singing it repeatedly.

 

Last night I sang the aria for the first time for

my teacher, Amber.

 

She coached me on improving my pronunciation

and my tone. She had me practice as she observed

nuances such as how my tongue was placed

in my mouth and how to have the instrument of

my body do more of the production instead

isolating the sound creation in my throat and

mouth.

 

She complimented me on how well the language

was sounding as well as how clear it was that

I had been practicing.

 

Amber further affirmed me by saying "I can tell you

have been singing a lot just from hearing your solo

in `Razzle Dazzle'"

 

You see, that's another benefit of rising to the top

along with your challenges: there are outcomes

that come to you as if by magic.

 

They stretch miles beyond the challenge itself.

 

This overflow is natural, effortless and rewarding

beyond any thing you might have planned.

 

So far, I wasn't ever able to give Katherine

a complete answer to her question.

 

Perhaps next time I will sing the response.

 

Open your mind-heart to an experience in your

life that brought your heart-feeling to a space

like this - listen again to my descriptions:

 

How do I describe to daughter how my heart feels

as my voice soars to hit a whole string of high notes

I never thought I could sing?

 

How do I explain how it feels to begin the note in my

belly and have it roll up through my heart and out the

top of my head, ring through my ears and then

down my arms and out my hands?

 

How do I explain the tears which spring to my eyes

without warning and the chills which run from the

top of my neck to the base of my spine?

 

Prepare to Write:

 

Now open to your  own emotional-response-moment for writing inspiration.

 

Remember a moment from your own life

where your heart opened through an

emotional experience.

 

Take a moment to re-visit that moment.

 

Use your senses to remember.

 

Prompt: When my heart opened, I saw…

 

When my heart opened, I heard…

 

When my heart opened, I touched…

 

When my heart opened, I tasted….

 

When my heart opened, I smelled….

 

If your pencil, pen, or fingers on the keyboard stop

moving, simply use the familiar prompt:

 - "I remember."

 

Hold the memory –

 

Use your senses to remember.

 

Begin to write, starting with whichever

Sense is the most likely to stir up

Your writing.

 

When my heart opened, I saw…

 

When my heart opened, I heard…

 

When my heart opened, I touched…

 

When my heart opened, I tasted….

 

When my heart opened, I smelled….

 

 

 

Hold this positive heart-emotion - memory close

throughout the day. Re-read your writing, perhaps,

or simply close your eyes and transport yourself

to that moment. You may even choose to carry

the memory close beyond the day and

into tomorrow.

 

 

 

Please share your writing with us using Mr. Linky. If you use this prompt to blog, we would love to know and include you in our community. Mr. Linky is an easy creative tool to help connections happen easily.

 

Add your writing related blog posts using Mr. Linky so that we may stay in touch, as a community.

JOIN OUR ADVENTURE IN WRITING -
Sign up here to receive daily lessons.

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I am so grateful to be writing together with you.

If you are interested in firing up your writing even more, please visit the Page for "And Now You Write: Premium Program."

9/29 #ANYW2010: Today's prompt -When rules and inspiration meet, I....

You are welcome to join “And Now You Write” at any time.

Your timing is just right to write with us.

Today's Prompt: When rules and inspiration meet, I.....

 

Write along with today's audio here:

 Please feel free to participate in our next optional teleconference writing sessions which are held daily at 8:30 AM Pacific time.

Simply dial the Access Number: 1-712-432-3100 and enter

the Conference Code: 440137

Today's prompt:When rules and inspiration meet, I...

When rules and inspiration meet, I find freedom.

I take root.

Noah Lukeman wrote a book
called The First Five Pages.
It is about the structure or form
of the first five pages of a book so
that the said book will sell.

It is about writing with a precision
and a strategy. It is about writing
following very tightly bound rules.

Imagine my surprise to read
his words, when he said:

"Most of the truly great artists have broken
all the rules, and this is precisely what has
made them great. What would have become of
Beethoven's music if he'd chased rules
instead of inspiration? Of van
Gogh's painting?"
 
Lukeman continues:
 
"It is always through the unexpected, the unorthodox.
that artist's break through to higher levels of
performance."

I don't see rules and inspiration as an either/or situation.

I choose to see them as dear friends. Respectful
of one another, deeply aware of the value each
one offers to artists, writers and other
creative people.

Remember what was written at the very
beginning of today's lesson?

"When rules and inspiration meet, I find freedom.
I take root."

I dance with angels while my feet feel mud underneath
them - I wiggle my toes to feel the darkened ooziness
well up from deep in the Earth.  My nose inhales the freshly mown
grass alongside the mud and I smile with intense satisfaction.

When rules and inspiration meet, I understand in
new and profound ways. The “shoulds” evaporate and
leave a kissable dew-mist on my cheeks.

My skin, moist, soft creative lines of love and thought
leave traces of all that has been and all that is yet
to become because of and through me.

Lines of rivers, rivers, following the flow, the norms,
their centuries old structure, move away for a while so
that I can nestle into their softness…. Inspiration… from
rules’ residue…..

When I am not involved in a theater project, I
attend poetry groups around Bakersfield.

I don't consider myself a regular at any of them,
but I am  know some of the faces, voices and
the distinctive quirks and personality traits
of the poets who gather there.

One night, we were introduced to a new form of poetry, the
Fibonacci Poem.

Like Haiku, it connects poetry to a numerical form. Some
poets balk at such a structure. Here is my take. As free flowing
and "there are no rules, there are no wrongs" as I am, I
completely relish the joyful, free, clarifying sense of
peace that comes from embracing a poetic form.

It is an example of joyful discipline, free practice,
constricted abundance. Ah, the glee of paradox.

This new form of poetry is based on a formula where the
length of each subsequent line of the poem is based
upon the length of the two preceding lines of the poem.

The first line is O + 1 which equals, 1. Therefore,
the first two lines each have one syllable. The third
line is the addition of the first and second line, so it is
2 syllables. The third line has three, the fourth five, the
fifth, eight and so on. The standard, if there is one, for
now is five lines of twenty syllables.

It is conceivable one could go much further, stretching
single lines out infinitely. Remember, there are no rules,
there are no rights or wrongs in
the Julie-book-of-creativity.

I sat in the midst of my fellow poets and wrote a
few "Fibs" (Fibonacci's abbreviated name.)

Fib #1
She
Draws
A quick
About face
I won't surrender!
She cries as she runs away fast…..

Fib #2
"Must
I
Listen?"
She wonders
"I would rather not."
She curls up and falls fast asleep.

I actually presented those Fibs as a part of the
poetry group last night, being the ultimate teacher's
pet that I am. Jenn gave us an assignment to write
a Fib as homework. I did it as Circle Work.

This morning during my writing practice,
more Fibs popped.

Fib #4
Have
You
Ever felt
Tennis shoes
Really hug your feet?
I savor their loving support

Fib #5

You
Say
She is
Teacher's Pet
Instead I say this:
She loves learning and shares this love

Now, a bit more spiritual and deep:

Fib #6

She
Said
"Fill me"
And he did
That sacred moment
Forever felt in memory

This next one is based on multiple conversations I have
had about "Cleansed", a play that is stirring up
controversy here in Bakersfield. I moved to a longer
form of Fib in order to say all that needed to be said.

Fib #7
Why?
Why?
Do we
Give it power?
Negative forces…….
Our strength may need its brutal pull….
Internal resurrection one soul finds her light way

When I realize some people insist they don't "get" or
"like" poetry my gut and my throat hurt.

I say, let's keep poetry alive. That may
mean we need to use new forms to bring their
heartbeat into alignment with the joy of poetry,
the simplicity of poetry, the delight of words
breathed onto paper in a form which
is not our norm.

Let's allow rules and inspiration to meet. Let's join
them in our own writing.

Today's Prompt: When rules and inspiration meet, I.....

9/28/2010 Writing - Erase fear #ANYW2010 - Today's Writing Prompt When I forget I am afraid, I....

You are welcome to join “And Now You Write” at any time. Your timing is just right to write with us.

Today's Writing Prompt: When I forget to be afraid I......

 Please feel free to participate in our next optional teleconference writing sessions which are held daily at 8:30 AM Pacific time.

Simply dial the Access Number: 1-712-432-3100 and enter the Conference Code: 440137

During our "Pre-Lesson Gathering time" today, I share about the "What does love want me to write" session. If you would like to visit that prompt page, you will find it here. Please, if you leave prior to today's lesson, come back. Love and Fear do sometimes go hand-in-hand, even if that is not said very often - I know it is so.

You may also listen to today's audio here:

 

It never fails to take me by surprise: the moment fear suddenly shows up when I am doing something seemingly innocuous, boom. It appears, begging for attention.

This morning I was driving home from the post office. I had taken Samuel his saxophone which he left at home and then, to the post office on Emma's behalf and as I sat at an intersection, boom.

Perhaps it was the way the light hit the building. Perhaps it triggered something in my subconscious mind.

Maybe it was a divine thing: I had cleared away enough garbage in my mind and it created space for the "right" ingredients to blend into Fear Soup.

I only panicked slightly. 

Instead of letting the fear to drag my heart down a destructive path, my heart grabbed my fear and said, "Create, create!" so I did.

The strength of my writing practice and the consistency of my poetry meant I was able to take this moment and write into the fear rather than let the fear trample my urge to write.

Here is the poem that was borne:

I step back, silently
feeling the fear in my chest
my toes clinging
to the rubberized soles

in my plaid cloth shoes
I lift one foot up
the other foot twisted, slightly
I didn't want to get too close

Too intimate
Too anything
with the ghosts that

danced on the stairs,
there, underneath the
sign declaring "Auditorium"

Translated into
"Auditory" "Ummmm"
My breath stutters

"I don't
I don't want
I dont't want to
I don't want to write"

Yet I write into the
pounding pulse now
cradled in my chest
The ghosts stand, silent

Wait to be recollected
faces painted, faces clean
my own eyes and nose and
cheekbones among them

Duplicated and separate
there, as well, looking
looking out the window
above from left behind
years ago.

I see my lips moving,
I whisper -
"What am I doing here?"

I turn, drive away
leave the question
unlived

not willing yet
and praying I won't
praying I will
screaming I can't
crying I won't

get up the
nerve to look at
myself inside that
window again

In these moments I honored fear and I forgot the fear through being conscious rather than overpowered by fear.

This is what happens when I am fall deeply into any creative process. I consciously dive in and all of a sudden fear turns into exhilaration.

Listen to that again: fear becomes exhilaration.

It doesn't create lack creativity, it creates an abundance of creativity.

In this particular situation, it invited another round of playful experimentation. Between the time I write this and tomorrow morning's session, I will have consciously engaged with this fear and once again created from it.

I like to think of it as thumbing my nose at fear. Asking fear, "What is it you want to tell me? What is it you want me to create from you?" instead of turning and running away, I am turning and walking toward it.

Consciously and with more than a little excitement.

People are curious. 

"Tell me about this," they are saying.

They want to know what comes next.

All I can say right now is I am not sure what comes now beyond the saying of "Yes."

I have fear, and I am forgetting to be afraid.

I have fear and because it is conscious, I am forgetting the nervousness, I am forgetting the twisted notions, the stuttering, the panic, the overload. 

My stance is different and my words are different.

Let's read the final few stanzas again:

I turn, drive away
leave the question
unlived

not willing yet
and praying I won't
praying I will
screaming I can't
crying I won't

get up the
nerve to look at
myself inside that
window again

Last week we created a word pool as a community. Weave these into your writing from the prompt if you feel called to do so.

If you are working independently you may also create a list of possibilities before starting your free writing time.

Today's Writing Prompt: When I forget to be afraid I......

have courage to be me

make mistakes

laugh

step into my bigger self

find power

love intensely

go for dreams

surprise myself

become sandpaper

flow freely

stand in my wisdom

feel the wind at my back

can be my best me

encourage others

begin to grow....

And Now You Write from Today's Writing Prompt: When I forget to be afraid I......

 

 

 

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Monday, September 27, 2010: And Now You Write - Experience and write fragrant delight

You are welcome to join "And Now You Write" at any point. We love to have new writers join in so if you are called to write, don't hesitate –

Please feel free to participate in our next optional teleconference writing session which will be held Tuesday, September 28 at 8:30 AM Pacific time.



Simply Dial-in here: Access Number: 1-712-432-3100 and enter the Conference Code: 440137

Listen to the audio of the writing session earlier today

here:

"Love is like a beautiful flower which I may not

touch, but whose fragrance makes the garden
a place of delight just the same."

Helen Keller

It is a scientific fact that salmon can smell their
stream of birth from hundreds of miles away.
The scent of it weaves its way back to the
salmon like a love-call.

"Come back to me, Come back to me!" Fragrant
Scent calls.

The salmon smells her invitation and makes the way
back through hundreds of miles of water. The smell
rises and falls with the water, its essence harkens
to the ancient connection that is borne in the salmon.

We have primitive connections to the sense of smell
as well. It is our most "animalistic" sense, especially
since the connections between the language
centers and smell are so few, we are left to our
most base responses to it.

Another intriguing fact for you – smell is closely
connected to our memory centers. If you are
memorizing something – studying for a test, for
example, do your studying in a highly fragrant room.

Studies have proven you will remember more
than if you were in a completely unscented room.

Our sense of smell alerts us much more quickly
than our other sensory signals because it is tied
so closely to our most ancient selves.

Our responses are completely innate and
beneath our consciousness.

You may have heard expressions such as:

The smell of fear
The smell of awareness
The smell of lust
The smell of awakening
The smell of love

I combined one of my loves with scent
to create a poem that audiences and
readers alike really enjoy -  which proved
that many other people share this object-of-love
and many engage in this surprising activity.

In case you are not a "poetry person" please
accept my invitation to hear this as prose, just
formatted a little bit differently than the norm.

There is absolutely no hidden meaning here, just
clear, heart felt imagery and experience.

The Old Book

Holding the old book open in the center
I bring it to my face and inhale deeply
Bringing me into my center
And my aching history
And my celebratory history
All matched together

Holding the old book open in the center
I bring it to my face and inhale deeply
And suddenly I am inside basements
And attics with whispered secrets and laughter
and discovery
And character and play acting for hours on end
And real acting for a lifetime

Holding the old book open in the center
I bring it to my face and inhale deeply
Transports me fully to the here and now
And the past so very deeply aware
Of the magic beholden in the words
The artistry within the craft itself

Holding the old book open in the center
I bring it to my face and inhale deeply
The mustiness reminds me of my neighbors
The dustiness reminds me of my son
The appearance reminds me of Hamlet's madness
The print brings me to a place transcendent

Holding the old book open in the center
I bring it to my face and inhale
And connect viscerally to the bounty and privilege
Within my my blood my skin my breath and
I breathe in, deeply and more deeply
And more deeply and more deeply

The depth of this poem-experience brings
us full circle back to our opening quote from
Helen Keller.

Hear her words again:

"Love is like a beautiful flower which I may not
touch, but whose fragrance makes the garden
a place of delight just the same."

Fragrance and delight.

Fragrance and delight.

Fragrance and delight.

It is like an echo from the poem – delighting
in the fragrance of an old book… something
that on its own does not appear to be such
a sensory treat, yet in the application – very
earthy and connecting.

Fragrance and delight.

Fragrance and delight.

Fragrance and delight.

Let's prepare to write:

Bring to your mind and heart an object or
experience that you love deeply. This may
be mundane, like a book – or it may be
much more spiritual – like a sanctuary or
other sacred space or object.  And then
again, books and words are sacred objects
in what may appear to be a mundane
overcoat.

Now: Do you have that object pictured in your
mind and heart?

Next, place it in your hands in front of you.

Now bring it to your nose and inhale it deeply.

We are now actively combining fragrance
and delight.

Take your hands away from your face and
continue to breathe slowly.

Once again, hold the image of the object in
your hands.

Bring it to your nose and inhale deeply.

Experience the fragrant delight.

One more time, put the object into your hands
from your mind and heart.

Bring it to your nose and inhale deeply.

Experience the fragrant delight.

Your prompt today is simple:

When I smell ________(the object of your
fragrant delight) _, I ……

When I smell _________, I ……

When I smell _________, I ……

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I am so grateful to be writing together with you.

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"And Now You Write" Sunday, September 26: Playful new method - Prompt - I remember when...

YES! We are even writing this weekend on Sunday -

You are welcome to join "And Now You Write" at any point. We love to have new writers join in so if you are called to write, don't hesitate -

  

Listen to the audio from today's life writing session:

Please feel free to participate in our next optional teleconference writing session which will be held Monday, September 27 at 8:30 AM Pacific time.

Simply Dial-in here: Access Number: 1-712-432-3100 and enter the Conference Code: 440137

Today’s prompt  as we prepare for the lesson and to write: "I remember when I (we) _____________ and saw (felt, heard, touched, smelled, tasted)....

Don't you love discovering a new method of

something-or-other and then applying it in an

assortment of different ways?  I know I do – which

is why I want to share with you this idea which you

can then take to apply to awakening yourself to

every moment in YOUR life as I did in mine.

 I read a book created especially for fiction

writers titled "The 3 A.M. Epiphany" by Brian

Kitely. 


I took an idea Mr. Kitely wrote which was

originally meant to flesh out a fiction-work-in-progress

and tweaked it first for actors in "5 Women Wearing

the Same Dress" to develop their characters and

then I used it once again to be more alive to the

images which float into my life as a writer.


I see countless applications for anyone choosing

to be a deeper witness of life: it helped me to

remember the specifics of "what happened" which

will help writers of any genre - and then I can

plug those tasty specifics into any writing at

any time OR allow those specifics to be

seed starters and prompts for those times

I have the (mistaken) belief I don't have

anything to write.
 

I simply wrote a sentence as a seed-starter and

then allowed the memories and images to flow – they

won't necessarily make sense to you, I simply wanted

you to see how simple it is to put into play.

 

"Emma and I walked along the path slowly, feeling

our smallness amidst the enormity that surrounded us.

 

During our trip to Wupatki, we experienced:

 

   1. The crispness of the air
   2. The red lava residue
   3. The black lava residue
   4. the complexity of the Native Structure
   5. my father's passion for the Native Structure
   6. Emma's memory of the Sardine Can
   7. The poetry flowing
   8. The view
   9. My prickly face
  10. The young woman volunteer
  11. The older woman full body description
  12. Sam's camera improve
  13. Seeing through and with Sam's eyues
  14. Katherine's peaceful appraisal
  15. 16 years? 16 years!
  16. Sheer beauty
  17. How did I not see it?
  18. Speed policing self
  19. Peace all pervasive
  20. Familiarity
  21. Emma's earthquake
  22. hands on nature
  23. trust
  24. no cell phone
  25. Sam in front
  26. Open windows, so cold
  27. trees amidst lava
  28. frozen lava
  29. Ugh Ugh family
  30. Men's room with Sam
  31. Unconventional Parenting
  32. Butterflies
  33. Silence
  34. Where are the birds?
  35. Gentle smell
  36. Empty roads, long stretching
  37. Motorcycles
  38. Gold Wing is in my way
  39. No crossing out
  40. Painted Desert
  41. Marlena
  42. Bianca
  43. Art
  44. Artist's choices
  45. Improvving life
  46. License
  47. Contentment
  48. Holding Hands
  49. Katherine is so grown up
  50. Sam's shoes
  51. Sam's running
  52. Sam's "Say Cheese"
  53. Sam's nap amidst grandeur
  54. Haiku Moments
  55. Wish for a camera
  56. Knowing all is well
  57. Commitment to returning

 And then my list stopped. I am guessing someone

interrupted me with a question or a challenge or

something which took away my train of thought.

 

I wrote underneath the unfinished list, "Stepping back

into the flow is more difficult than just beginning again."

I wonder what I meant by that last statement and I wonder

what made me write it?  What was the perceived difference

between stepping back in versus just starting again?

 

What is exciting about this now is it really doesn't

matter – instead of following that thread of questioning,

I will instead choose to write from my initial awakening

so that you can see how you can follow up

from your lists.

 

#30 – Men's Room with Sam

 

Sam will not use public women's rooms anymore.

He insists he is a boy, he needs the boys room. Mommy,

Kathie and Emma are girls and we use the girls room.

He recognizes the symbols so don't even think of

dragging him into the opposite restroom.

 

Besides, one of his purest joys is using the urinal

and we females don't have those in our public restrooms.

 

This would all be fine and dandy if it wasn't for

the remainder of the rest room ritual.  You see,

after he uses the urinal, he gets soap, washes

his hands and dries them… and most restrooms

are not built with a four-year-old's height in mind.

 

Inevitably I hear a voice bark from the men's room,

"MOM!" and so it continues until I scamper into the

restroom to help him out. I have apologized more

times than you know. Sometimes the men

get really mad at me.

 

In Kingman, Arizona I was ready for the state

police to come after me at the Super Wal-mart.

Note to Super Wal-mart Restroom engineers. Automatic

stuff doesn't work when you are the size of even a

large four year old.

 

The Ugh-Ugh family at Wupatki didn't appreciate my

visit to the men's room with Sam. One of the children

indignantly stated (within ear shot of Emma) "She should

make him go to the girl's room!"

 

Ha!

 

#38. Gold Wing is in the Way.

 

I turned the rental car back and forth, attempting to

move out of the way of the Gold Wing. Oh, a Gold Wing.

It is a beautiful machine, one which I have lusted after

for a long time.  It reminds me of riding

a love-seat-turned-sideways.

 

I would settle for a sportier Buell Blast, in purple of

course, but a Gold Wing, even blocking my path, brings

me simple joy and longing.

 

My wistful facial expression must have made

the owner snap out of his site-seeing reverie

because he came and moved his motorcycle

and I no longer had a choice. I had to go forward,

leaving my Gold Wing dream behind.

 

= + = + = +

 

Now it is your turn –

 

Write a list of images from a memorable day

in your recent past. We will take about a minute

to do this, after taking a moment or two to settle

in and remember that day and allow the images

to return to your recollection.


Start the list with "I remember when we

_____________, I saw (heart, felt, heard, touched,

experienced)


Take a moment to look over your list and chose the

three which most call to you.


Next, create a vignette or "word snapshot" starting

with "I remember when we _________ and I _______"

Take five minutes to write without stopping and if

you do slow down, plug in the next memory and

see how deeply you can take this.


Enjoy what unfolds!

 

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#ANYW2010 Responding to Love's Questions - Today's Prompt: Love is asking me to write....

Today's Prompt: Love is asking me to write....

You are welcome to join “And Now You Write” at any time. Your timing is just right to write with us.

Everyone is welcome. Please feel free to participate in our next optional teleconference writing sessions which will be held today, Sunday, September 26 at 8:30 AM Pacific time.

Simply dial the Access Number: 1-712-432-3100 and enter the Conference Code: 440137

Now you may listen to our live lesson and write from it, here.

Now: our session begins -

I love, love, love this quote:

"Someday, after mastering the winds, the waves,
the tides and gravity, we shall harness for God
the energies of love, and then, for a second time
in the history of the world, man will have
discovered fire."

Pierre Teilhard de Chardin

Love feels rapturous.

Sometimes I allow fear to assault it and fear
morphs into lead in the pit of my stomach.  It
turns into an internal fortress, built for "protection"
yet it is that "protection" that actually makes the
love slowly, silently, numbly fade from my view.

Even in the presence of love, I can not sense it because
the fortress has buffered my sight, my hearing,
my heart-emotions.

The "safety" device turns out to be the most
dangerous device of all.

Love isn't afraid to feel – it cries "bring it on, baby,
bring it on, give it to me NOW let me hear it, play it,
sing it, don't contain it….."

Love is like a pile of leaves waiting to be leapt
into at any moment. It stands at rapt inattention,
amber-brown-red, crinkly and fragrant.

You walk by and see it standing there and the
child within you says "Leap, leap, leap!" and if you
are so lucky to listen to that child within, you do… and
the laughter echoes through the smashing leave
sounds and the slight ache in your bottom and yes,
the leaf remnants fill your mouth, your ears, your
nose and you wonder, "How long has it been since
I leapt so rapturously in a pile of leaves?"

You shrug off the response so that you can do
it again and say, "Oh, it has been about 5 minutes
since I leapt into a pile of leaves, thank you!"

Robert Browning had it right when he wrote, "Take
away love and our earth is a tomb."

On a sunny, autumn Sunday morning when Sam
was only six months old we joyfully explored an
area that was new to us. Sam sat perched behind
me in a baby backpack. I felt strong and healthy
even though I was sitting just on the safe side
of a very deep depression.

Sam and I were blissfully aware of the brisk air
with the sun shining overhead. It was as if the
Sun, the Air, and the street were all playing
along with us as we ventured about in the
quiet of the early morning.

We came upon an old style clapboard church.  It
stood alone as if it was the lighthouse of the
neighborhood. Its appearance bordered on
surreal as it nestled among the much newer
tract houses surrounding it.

It was as if a long ago choir was singing, "Notice
me, notice me, notice me" especially to
Sam and me.

I focused on the square, wooden announcement
board that stood in front of the building.

"What questions does Love ask?" the
announcement board asked no one and
everyone who passed it.

Its words stopped me. My foot wouldn't lift from
the ground. Breath filled my lungs as I gasped
at the simplicity of the inquiry.

Love, capitalized.

Yes, Love is an entity in and of itself.  This tiny,
clapboard out-of-its-element church understood.

Love rightfully claims the title of a proper noun –
just because it is.

Let's spend a few moments with that same question.
The sign asked me – and now, it is time for the
sign to ask you, too.

"What questions does love ask?"

Consider that for a moment – tuck it in the back
of your mind.

The apostle Paul observed that Love as being
patient, kind. He continued this way:  love does
not envy, boast and is not arrogant.  It is not self
seeking or easily angered. Love keeps no
record of wrongs. It does not delight in evil.
Love rejoices in truth.  Love always protects.
Love always hopes. Love always perseveres.
Love never fails.

What questions does Love ask?

What responses do you give to Love?  You
know – the responses you give through your
thoughts, through your actions, through your
being.

What do you say to love when it taps
you on the shoulder or attracts you into the
awareness of its presence to call you into
a sacred partnership?

Martin Luther King, Jr. said "Everybody can be
great... because anybody can serve. You don't have
to have a college degree to serve.  You don't have
to make your subject and verb agree to serve.
You only need a heart full of grace, a soul generated
by love."

Martin Luther King somehow connected with
Love in that moment and somehow knew we
would use his wisdom in a writing class years
after his death.  "You don't have to make your
subject and verb agree" he said.

You don't have to even appear "right" because
when your heart and soul are filled and generated
with Love, when your presence is shaped and
molded by "Love" it is ALL right.

It is all right.

The quote I read in the beginning of the

lesson today speaks of harnessing
the energies of love.

Does Love ask you to harness its energy?

Does Love explain that in being fully, authentically
you then you ARE harnessing its energy?

Repeating Martin Luther King's wisdom, you
only need a heart full of grace and a soul
generated by love.

Breathe that energy into your being now.

What questions does love ask? "I have a
heart full of grace."

What questions does love ask? "I have a
soul generated by love."

Another sort of Spiritual Group, The
Beatles, reminded us, "Love is
all you need."

Listen to their knowing.  "Love is all you need."

Prepare to write.

Just like love is asking you questions, love is
communicating its special, unique responses
to you.

The questions love asks brings you to a
higher knowing, a shift in perspective, a
gentle embrace.

The questions love asks reside in the deep
knowing of love - a deep intimacy -  so it helps
to know what love is for you – what it is like – in
what ways it takes form uniquely for you.

We heard today that to me, love is like a
pile of leaves, poised and inviting.

Consider, for you, what love is like….

Love is like…..

Love is like……

Breathe your knowledge of love into your
body and allow it out through your pencil,
your pen, or your fingers on the keyboard.

Your prompt today is simple:

Love is asking me to write......

Love is asking me to write.....

Today allow your knowledge of love to
gently hold you throughout the day.  Take
  that deep, intimate knowing into an even
deeper place in your body and allow it to
come out through words on the page
and through the words you
speak to one another.

Love is all you need.

You have a heart full of grace.

You have a soul generated by love.

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September 24: "And Now You Write" Squelching the Inner Critic Using the Sense of Sound

You are welcome to join “And Now You Write” at any time. Your timing is just right to write with us.

   

 Listen to the recording of today's session here if your preference is to have an audio guide to your writing:

Please feel free to participate in our next optional teleconference writing session which will be held Sasturday at 8:30 AM Pacific time.

Simply Dial-in here:

Access Number: 1-712-432-3100 and enter the Conference

Code: 440137

AUDIO will be added by 11 AM Pacific time if you prefer to write along with a recording.

Now: our session begins -

It is no secret that I love haiku. I love the brevity, I love the way it makes me feel to write haiku and I love the way it feels to read haiku aloud.

One of the most popular haiku artists of all time, Basho, wrote these words.

Listen carefully:

The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound 
coming out of the flowers.

Listen to Basho’s words again. Read them aloud if you are not participating on an audio version of this program. “The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound 
coming out of the flowers.”

Did you hear the temple bells in the vowel sounds?

If you didn't hear it, release your concern about 'what you didn't hear' and instead settle into the lush word choices - simple, elegant sounds within those words.

“The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound 
coming out of the flowers.”

This technique is called "assonance".

Assonance is the repetition of vowel sounds within
a piece  of writing.  It is frequently used as a device
in poetry AND it can be used in any form of writing.

I intentionally use this form of writing when I am 
"at risk" for being stuck.

Here is why:

Creating exercises and games is one of the surest
ways to jump start the creative process.  It unblocks 
clogs which may be present due to circumstances, 
moods or those moments when we are discouraged or overwhelmed. An added bonus is this: listening to your own voice 
as you verbally speak the sounds can create another bridge to deeper creativity.

It keeps my writing fresh, clear and crisp - especially 
during times when I might be more prone to slow 
down in my writing practice is to keep a steady 
supply of writing games on hand.

One day shortly after the death of my friend, Tom, 
I sat at my kitchen table, pencil poised to the page. 
I created a word pool based on the vowel sound 
"ah" like in "Mom" or "Balm".

I wasn't sure what I would create, but I knew I had to create – I knew the longer I only focused 
on feeling out of sorts about Tom's death, 
the less likely it would be that I would ever 
create any decent writing in the near future.

I chanted "Ah, Ah, Ah, Ah" and let the words flow.

Soon I had quite a collection of words and wrote a semi-surreal, assonance based
poem.  Listen to the results, focusing on sounds produced in the words.

Dissolving
© 2003, 2004
Julie Jordan Scott

Dissolving into a bog like trance of tears

and disbelief


Someone had absconded

with her resolve


Slowly she dropped, loose and floppy


Her body a blonde modge podge


No longer a treasure to behold


Instead a trodden upon over run


Marsh of weeds and soggy grasses


Begging to be cut down and mowed


So something useful could 


Be grown, filling the space

which now only held


The salt of her tears which slowly

filled
Her mouth with an unquenchable

thirst
For small, green frogs gathered at dusk


From the nearby pond


Soggy, lifeless green mushing into her


Mouth smothered blithely in butter and


Swallowed almost whole, bonded and


Sought to be more than a blot, a void


A mottled mirage

====

I remember the muffled awe which struck me


after I composed that poem.

The moment echoed light. I might have heard the string section in an orchestra
as it played a grand crescendo of emotion if I listened carefully.

It became an auditory a-ha experience.

Julia Cameron has an inner censor who hissed "
Who do you think you are, writing a book about
 writing?" There the words are, written by Cameron
herself. They march across a page in her book, 
"The Right to Write."

Using a tool like an assonance based word
 pool can do wonders for squelching the inner 
critic – and the outer critic as well.

I was amazed to learn of Julia Cameron having 
an inner censor remarkably like my own. The 
Divine Diva of inspiring writer-dom herself has
 an inner critic?

This realization brought my defenses flopping at my
feet, inert and exempt of their former power.

Julia Cameron hears the same sort of untruth and rumors
and sees the same sneaky slights of hand that we do.

What a relief.

I remember when I was interacted with the tormenting 
barrier-like wall built up and surrounded by my nay-saying internal
anti-cheering squad.

We talked about our inner critics the other day, when they took the form of a human. Sometimes our inner critics take the form of a wall or a blockade to our writing voice. One of my ways of dismantling the wall is to describe it, to become more familiar with it.

My “inner critic” wall is made of chain links and barbed wire and
has electrical charges 6,026 feet above and below
it, too. There is no burrowing under it or climbing
over it without some extreme equipment which in
these moments seem way out of reach.

The chain link monster has a built in laughing track
and every single time I get within six inches of it the
wall itself there are out of control shrieks and gales
of laughter and taunting choruses gleefully, hatefully,
scornfully greet me.

I could be doing stand-up comedy in front of creative
souls and laughter would bubble towards me (and
towards themselves) due to the sheer ridiculousness
of my wall plus the joyful recognition that we are not
alone in the disengaging devices created by our inner critic. We are also not
alone in the ease and ability to untangle ourselves
from what had at once felt like a strong-hold upon
our hopes and dreams.

We all have these sinister, ordinary, run-of-the-mill
and extravagant false beliefs and barriers to our
own brand of extraordinary-ness. None of us has
the corner on the monumental girth and depth
and tempestuousness of self-doubt.

Mine has ebbs and tides, it rises with occasional mean
spirited notions which I can usually spirit away rather
easily as quickly as they unexpectedly arise.

And guess what?

We can choose to create, to plan or to simply be even
when the winds from the gales of laughter feel like
we could fly our thought-made kites into them.

You, me, Julia Cameron, your next door neighbor
who bears a stunning resemblance to Clark Kent, we
can all choose to write or choose to sew or choose to
make that phone call we have, up until now, let our
own internalized inventions of doom cast their
power upon our moments.

Not any more.

I am siding with Julia. And You. And Me

Today we will build a word pool and use that word 
pool in our writing time.  I would like us to use 
the vowel sound that is found in "ooohhhm" – 
because it is a sacred sound and will keep us
grounded in that spiritual energetic space.

If you are present during our live session, we will simply bubble up the words that are spoken
into your heart-mind and I will echo the words
back to you as I write it into the pool in front 
of me. You may want to scribe the words 
the others speak as we go along.

If you are working on your own, you may follow the same process, simply doing it in your own voice at home.

Here are some words to start the process.


Something     trumpet  Drum   Handsome 
Wonder     Winsome now

Now here is a list of words collected in our call, and feel free to add your own words:

spoke    brown  cone  invoke   gnome  foam  yodel  harmony   joke  oak reproach   folk  Oklahoma  round comb token toke  remote  Rhode Island   poke  gloat   pole  ohm moat spoke vote  fountain  phoney ground ohm invoke   sound

If you are working on your own, read the list of words aloud before you write. You may then weave as
many of these words as possible in your writing. 
As always, don't think about what you are creating
simply allow your pencil to move across the page.

The prompt for today is "In this moment I hear….."

"In this moment I hear….."

"In this moment I hear……"

Later today, tomorrow and next week, really hear the world 
which surrounds you.  Hear those sounds again through your words.  Your writing is improving. It is becoming more vivid and more enjoyable to your reader.

Please share your writing with us using Mr. Linky. If you use this prompt to blog, we would love to know and include you in our community. Mr. Linky is an easy creative tool to help connections happen easily.

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September 23: Prompt - What blessings do you see right now, in front of you? Write of them.....#ANYW2010

Today’s Writing Prompt: What blessings do you see, right there, in front of you? Write of them…..

 

You are welcome to join “And Now You Write” at any time. Your timing is just right to write with us.

Listen here to the recording of today's session:

We are getting to the heart of our writing work/play now.

Please feel free to participate in our next optional teleconference writing session which will be held tomorrow, September 23 at 8:30 AM Pacific time.

Simply Dial-in here:

Access Number: 1-712-432-3100 and enter the Conference

Code: 440137

We will begin to put an increased emphasis on writing from the senses and writing from an awakened, alive space where passion thrives and we learn to treasure – or at least appreciate – the present moment.

To remember: Writing is effortless when we are alive to the world.

When we write consistently, suddenly everything else is clearer, brighter and simply better, too.

And I know you would each and all agree: Writing – and life – is grand.

We will begin, now, to expand our witness of the world through our words.

See the ordinary as extraordinary. Communicate with ease and grace.

Our eyes – Our vision – the sights we see and describe with our words – open to the light.

When I was in Massachusetts recently, I had the opportunity to visit the home of Louisa May Alcott. I was in the very room where she wrote Little Women and peered out her windows, the very windows that straddled her desk. I could feel how the sunlight felt as she wrote.

I imagine as she looked through those windows as she worked, she would have said:

“Far away there in the sunshine are my

highest aspirations. I may not reach them, but

I can look up and see their beauty, believe

in them, and try to follow where they lead.”

///////

And now,  story in seeing beauty and following where it leads for each and all of us.

My dog Hank  and I stood surveying the view from a lookout point along the bluffs near our home. We have always loved standing here and pausing on our walk simply to breathe, to look down below at the Kern River canals and up to the sky at the clouds, if there are any, and straight ahead at miles and miles of oil fields.

This pause has become a cherished moment on our regular walks.

My children also love the bluffs. The night before Emma and I were out walking on a different part of this same path right at sunset. Emma was so touched by the luminescent iris – fuchsia – goldenrod appearance in

the sky she literally glowed from within as she shared her

observation of the beauty in the sky.

"Let's do this again, Mommy."

I felt gratitude welling up in me as I looked out over the view of the Kern River, slicing through the valley below me.

.

I wanted to see if the duck family I sometimes saw there was anywhere near by. I knew Hank would enjoy watching them frolic.

The ducks were not to be seen.

Instead my eyes caught the reflections of the trees in

the water. There was a shimmering re-visioning of the trees: one vision on solid ground, and one vision, floating in the water, moved in my heart in a way that surprised me. It brought something up in me, an unnamed emotion that I couldn’t wrap words around yet.

I had never noticed these reflections before, reflections which had clearly been present but I had not, for whatever reason, seen. I hadn’t tuned into

them until right at that perfect space of time.

I was present. I was focused on the “now” space. I wasn’t chastising myself for missing out, I was grateful for finally seeing.

I heard a familiar tune float into my consciousness, one which was written

way back in 1923 by a gentleman named Thomas Runyan.

.

"Great is Thy faithfulness!

Great is Thy faithfulness!

Morning by morning new mercies I see."

Those reflections were "new" mercies, sent by the Divine, who is ever faithful to me whether the moments which appear gray and drab or which appear to be evocative with colors so vivid I can feel their mist upon my skin.

I could see them with my eyes, feel them with my heart, sing them with my voice and multiply them by expressing my joy in reflection back to you.

Merriam-Webster defines "mercies" as blessings that are an act of divine favor or compassion. They are ever present and non judgmental. They are waiting for us to notice them everyday.

I like to think they feel some sort of satisfaction when we express gratitude for them, but mostly I think they want for us to allow them to serve

as conduits for our own journey to wholeness and blessings to others everyday.

We are going to tune into the mercies you can see and experience right in this moment.

We will specifically tune into what you connect with visually right here,

right now......

Prompt: What "mercies" and/or "blessings" do you see right in front of you as you write? Take a moment to describe them, adding feelings or reflections as you write…

If your pencil, pen or fingers slow down before the

end of the time, add this to your prompt:

"and I also see......"

Later today or tomorrow: Take some time today to really notice your

surroundings - what you regularly SEE in your every day life -

- and describe them in detail with words on a page.

In being a careful, deliberate witness - you may be surprised what opens up for you - simply by becoming more aware of what you may see now that you simply didn’t see before this moment.

Please share your writing with us using Mr. Linky. If you use this prompt to blog, we would love to know and include you in our community. Mr. Linky is an easy creative tool to help connections happen easily.

JOIN OUR ADVENTURE IN WRITING -
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I am so grateful to be writing together with you.

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September 22: And Now You Write - Today's Prompt: I fill the paper with the breathings of my heart..."

Today’s prompt: "I fill the 
paper with the breathings of my heart and……

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Holding today’s prompt in your breath as we prepare for the lesson and to write: "I fill the
paper with the breathings of my heart and…

Allow yourself to be pure, raw, 
and completely you.

Allow yourself to grow with 
each word you write. 

Trust yourself as a writer and 
as a person. 

Say this to yourself: “I know my right readers connect 
with my heart message no matter what shape 
or direction my writing takes today.”

I have something to tell you that I really, really want you to hear: My heart sometimes breathes on paper.

It pours stuff out that I didn't even know was 
there, way deep down in the bottom of the well. It pours out
feelings and colors and sounds and tastes and 
sometimes wretched memories tumble forth.

I sometimes get embarrassed by the volume 
or the pitch or the vulnerable place I put myself 
in, apparently voluntarily only it doesn't feel like 
I am the one doing the volunteering.

"Why did you have to go and do that!" my inner
critic mocks.  "You went and made a fool of 
yourself again. Why can't you just be satisfied 
with being like everyone else?"

Sometimes my inner critic looks remarkably
like my eldest brother.  Sometimes my inner 
critic looks like Miss Pizarro, my third grade
teacher.  Sometimes my inner critic looks 
exactly like my reflection in the mirror when 
I wake up after an unsatisfying sleep.

I have learned to gently hush the harshness
of my critic because when my heart breathes
on the paper, magic happens. I connect to 
the divine.  I move effortlessly through history, 
space and time by listening to the rhythmic 
pulses of my heart, the  responding woooosh 
of the blood through my veins as it 
celebrates, rejoicing "I will keep beating, 
yes, I will take care of you, yes – I love you."

Long ago William Woodsworth wrote the words, 
"Fill the paper with the breathings of your heart" 
and his breathings have now reached across
the ages to your breathings and your heart. 

He climbed over and past his critic, through 
his failures and successes, celebrated the
rhythmic pulses and responding wooosh to 
be a part of your life today.  His legacy remains
beyond the words alone.

Maxwell Anderson wrote: "If you practice an art, 
be proud of it and make it proud of you.  It will fill 
your heart. "

Yes, Mr. Anderson, it will fill your heart. And if 
we are especially blessed, it will fill the hearts 
of others as well.

Charles Dickens said, “"Have a heart that never hardens, and a temper 
that never tires, and a touch that never hurts."

Remember that as we prepare ourselves to write.

Pulse by pulse, breath by breath, yes by yes, 
word by word.

Prompt: "I fill the
paper with the breathings of my heart and……

Now, for a follow up writing for right now or later today or tomorrow.

 

Sit quietly and reflectively and take a moment to
find your pulse.  Next, take some time to gently
listen to your pulse.

Remember a strong emotion you have felt recently
and continue to listen to the rhythm of your
pulse.

What is it speaking to you about that emotion?

Pick up your pencil and write for three minutes.

Please share your writing with us using Mr. Linky. If you use this prompt to blog, we would love to know and include you in our community. Mr. Linky is an easy creative tool to help connections happen easily.