Dear friends,
Thank you for opening another Within letter. A click of the ♡ button makes a difference. So does sharing these pieces.
I have recently invested in a year long writing workshop with a novelist and essayist I greatly admire: Summer Brennan.
I want to write a new book. I’m not sure on the theme, but I have learned over the years that whenever I make a decision about writing a book, the book always finds me. Saying it out loud daily also helps; it guides your brain towards what you want to focus on, what you value the most during a particular season in your life.
Lately, I am resting more and more in the feminine; inviting inspired action to work its magic, returning to group breath-work, cacao ceremonies, and waterfalls as the scent of spring starts to reappear. My life is slow and peaceful; sometimes terrifying when immersed in cold water or climbing on all fours up a woodland ravine. Over the course of the last six months, I have had no desire to be anywhere other than here. I live consciously, and strive to allow a higher wisdom to guide my actions as much as possible. I observe what appears in my field, but I let it breathe a while. I recently heard someone describe making a decision “from the scar and not the wound” and it resonated deeply.
Whatever needs your attention will reveal itself naturally.
I have also gone back to where I started with my love affair for haikus. Alexander Semeneyuk runs a poetry / haiku prompt every few weeks. A number of my offerings are below:
Prompt: Eyes
Fading winter sun
the closing eyes of the Earth;
yet still there is light.
Prompt: War
Words hang in the air
like the trembling winter moon,
like the weight of war.
Prompt: Memory
A poem is a reflection
of a moment,
an echo of a memory
held
in the hand of your
mind.
I’m a big fan of writing using prompts. Sometimes, I ask myself to describe: “how it felt when….” and “what I learned from…” and “what the light looked like at the time, what my body felt like.”
When you’re writing, you often need to go back to a place and collect something. I like to go back and pull out the moment something shifted within, broke through the veil of illusion. I sprinkle beauty into deep lessons, and use metaphors for something beyond the senses. At the root of it all is the desire to give hope to anyone feeling lost or alone.
When we love, we always strive to become better than we are. When we strive to become better than we are, everything around us becomes better too.
― Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist
Since beginning the writing workshop two weeks ago, I have had to carve out even more space for my writing practice. I have always written first thing in the morning, on my phone, and also in a notebook of “morning pages.” But I now need to separate the two—dedicated writing time is not the same as journaling or morning pages. However, if I write anything particularly profound in my morning pages, I transfer it to the Notion document that I use for new writing.
The reason I have always followed a daily practice, a routine, a ritual, is because it is a way of telling your brain ‘this is what I value. This is what I want to dedicate the next thirty minutes to.’ It is an act of creation. It is a decision; a way of choosing the direction of your life. And even when something unexpected comes along and pulls you off track, you always have an anchor to return to.
The exercises we’ve been undertaking over the last two weeks have primarily focused on building a daily practice, and paying attention. One of the exercises involves writing 10 things daily that describe something from the physical world without using metaphors, similes and abstractions. As a poet, this is difficult for me, so I have focused on doing it more, sometimes twice a day:
*
Two women walking, two women stepping into a lake
Thick blue fishing rope pressed into the dirt
Half open book next to an unzipped make up bag
Khaki handmade bag, slouched and open wide
A ceramic tray of crystals and shells
Wildflower postcard leaning against the wall
Feathers from a pheasant pushed into the soil of a houseplant
One half of a muscle shell on an unglazed dish embossed with a golden sun
Large green leaf, part touching the wall, shadow twice as long
The imprint of a bird’s eye on a kimono, cobalt blue with a flash of black.
*
Ten things every day gives you an insight into the content of your life.
The next part is my favourite: five things.
Five observations, five memories, five stories, or five thoughts. As much or as little for each thing as you want. A single “thing” can be many paragraphs or just one word.
*
Today, I heard the song Thrush singing in the tree again, but I couldn't see it. A few moments later, I realised that faith is a little like this.
I undress in the barn alone. The stone floor draws the warmth from my bones, and I pull on my swimming socks. My feet long to stand naked on the Earth, pressed into the dirt and damp, long grass. Within minutes, the barn fills with noise, laughter, and naked bodies. I observe the sensations in my chest, the grip of resistance, the hunger for silence, solitude. I allow it to be there without following it, without getting pulled in. I realise that the warmth of joy never leaves; it simply becomes obscured. You have to break through to reach it—every time.
Small stones spill onto the worn-out wooden step leading down to the water. Fear arrives as an inhale, pulls me back until I remember I've been here before.
A mallard swims towards me, so I stay still and let the water hold me for a few seconds. The habitual sense that something is missing in my life falls away.
What we perceive as stillness is a world full of movement. It is the place we look from that is still.
*
Doing these writing exercises daily strengthens your writing muscle, memory, and life. It makes every moment richer, slower, and longer. It allows you to pluck out the realness of life, and you begin to notice that wonder is always there, waiting behind a cloud of perception and a habitual, often senseless, inner dialogue.
The reason I have joined this writing workshop is to improve, connect with a group of writers, and to learn how to collect the transparency of words and lift them into the light. In only a couple of weeks, I have already discovered a new depth of joy in doing this purely for myself, for my growth, and with no expectation of being good or bad. There is a small amount of fearlessness creeping through when I write my five things daily; as though it doesn’t matter what I write, as long as it’s coming from a place of truth from within me.
This kind of experimentation already feels transformative, and I'm excited to discover what the next few months will bring.
Going Within
My self-study course Going Within shares all the tools, techniques and creative rituals I undertake on a daily basis to stay aligned with my authentic self, and live a life of clarity, peace and joy.
This is a self-study course with lifetime access to paid subscribers. You will also receive my monthly healing guides and the ‘done for you’ Notion template I’ve created for my values, inspiration, and projects.
Next week: waterfall magic
Thank you for being here. Sending love and light, April
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Love the allowing what's meant to be to come in!
You are my ‘hope giver’ 🤍 much love beauty