During Stories from the Heart V (February 5-7, 2010
in Austin, Texas) Story Circle Network’s National Memoir Conference will be
abuzz with myriad ways of storytelling. Among these workshops will be mine: “Story
Poems: A Tool for Writing Our Stories.”
The story-poem is an often-overlooked form for
telling our stories. We'll discuss the genre and its unique niche in storytelling.
We’ll compare samples of prose and story poems. Then you’ll practice turning
your own prose into a story poem.
What is a story poem?A story poem combines
highly compressed narrative, musing, and observation using poetic techniques
such as alliteration, imagery, and metaphor. In the story poem, as in prose,
the sentence rather than the line is the primary unit.
Besides introducing the story poem genre, we’ll examine when the form is
best used. What are its advantages and disadvantages as a writing tool? Would
your own writing projects benefit from using or borrowing from the story poem
form?
Poetry is an excellent genre for memoir
because it condenses the story, handles emotion deftly, and is open to
non-linear constructions. The story poem fosters dialogue, character, event,
and understated language.Being familiar
with story poems allows you to see your story from a different perspective. They
are also good teachers of craft elements that make your writing strong.
To learn more about story poems and my
work browse three links from Kendra Bonnett and Matilda Butler’s Women’s Memoirs
site.
We want to do good and help our sister writers. We join groups to do just that. When like minds come together with the same purpose—intent on trust, kindness, and truth—everyone benefits. How do critique groups produce virtuous rather than vicious circles?
Caption: Wizard & Elf Bring Gifts
Doing Good
·A good match between writer and group encourages writing.
·Thoughtful critique makes work stronger.
·Beyond the individual piece by the individual writer critique offers the entire group lessons in effective writing. What is good writing? How do we do it? How do we communicate beyond ourselves? Discerning critique opens our eyes to new ways of thinking and confirms what we’ve already intuited or believed.
Who are you as a group?
Know what kind of group you are. Here are a few possibilities.
1)Witnessing—Story Circles “encourage and facilitate story-sharing” without analysis or correction. Susan Albert in “Writing From Life: Telling Your Soul's Story,” says: We are mutual presences, simply, and in that attentive being-with, that delicate, careful listening, we help one another bring forth—ourselves." (p.12)
2)Listening Back is a term I coined as an alternative to “feedback”. How can you be useful and specific in your comments while creating a cozy, supportive environment? Clive Matson’s “syngenetic workshop” (having the same origin) illustrates a version of listening back.
Clive’s Crazy Child process is based on the writing itself. Group members take notes on the piece they’re hearing and reading in order to repeat memorable lines exactly; clearly and positively they say why these work. The author also takes notes and speaks only at the end. (Clive’s complete process is on Pp. 16-17 “Let the Crazy Child Write.”)
3)Craft-based or genre-based groups focus on developing writing skill in more detail. Such groups may be directed towards refining work to present to the marketplace.
How to Critique?
Be a Girl Scout: trustworthy, kind, and truthful.
Trust.Act and speak so that each writer in the group feels that her work is respected.
Kindness. You would never say to a new mother “What an ugly baby!” Remember that the writer is showing you her literary baby.
Truth. If your group is one that gives feedback, make it specific, honest and respectful.
Kindergarten Rules: Structure
Choose someone to facilitate the group. You might choose to rotate this role. The facilitator keeps the critique on track and redirects unhelpful feedback. A timekeeper is useful as well.
Set up levels of feedback.These levels provide readymade goals for each person’s turn. Ask the writer what she wants and address only that. For example, does she want her piece to be witnessed as she reads it? Does she have a specific question about craft (perhaps pacing or length)? Is she open for a broad band response? Grammar and nitpicking is off the board.
What did you like? The humor? Beautiful language? Skillful structure? The idea behind it? Specific passages? Be specific.
Follow up with concerns and suggestions. Is the writing clear? Is the language appropriate to the genre? Where and how can she improve her writing? Be specific.
Manuscripts at the ready. When we have the written words in front of us, we can more easily be helpful and specific. Small changes can be noted in the margins. These copies go back to the author at the end of the critique with names at the top.
Note it! In addition to individual notes on the manuscript, appoint a recorder to capture group responses and suggestions during the discussion.
Anything else? Have you addressed the writer’s questions? The writer may want to follow up on comments.
With practice and attention your critique group can, as Denise Levertov says, allow each woman “to say or sing all that she can, and to deal with as much of the world as becomes possible toher in language”.
How does the writer contribute to a good critique? Tune in next month.
END NOTES
Column written by Janet Grace Riehl of St. Louis in collaboration with Stephanie Farrow of Albuquerque.
Pose questions about practical creativity; give ideas for future cycle themes; and join in the dialog in the comment section below.
EcoArts Walk, Lake County, N. California. Reflections.
I once cried during a critique.
It was an MFA upper-level course in visual storytelling taught by two eminent photographers. I had petitioned to get into the course, arguing that my life experience fulfilled the lower-level entry requirement. I’d gotten in, participated, and then blown it by crying during a critique of my work. Before the next class the instructors ambushed me at the top of the stairs and strongly suggested, to the point where I felt threatened, that I drop the course.
To sit back and observe critique as a sociologist, anthropologist, or psychologist can be an entertaining pastime—as long as it’s not your own work on the table. I’m surprised there aren’t plays, comic strips, and situation comedies based on the stereotypical types that surface during critique: the Ding-Bat, the Sonorous Voice of God, the Professor, the Meanie, the Raconteur.
Unfortunately, critique—peer or professional—is rife with possibility for misuse, misunderstanding, and misery. In the very worst situations there can be a scoring of points that turns the critique into a virtual blood sport. The writer’s work takes backseat to the critiquer’s social and personal agendas. Small wonder that some writers dread the very word.
Critique. For myself, I dreaded it. I hated it. I learned from it.
Fortunately, after the disastrous experience in the photography class, I had the joy of encountering a teacher, Betsy Davids, who fully understood the meaning of critique and its purpose. She regarded critique as a form of appreciation, a time of joining with the piece and giving back to the artist who created it.
During critique she grew quiet and made the piece the object of contemplation. She then took the class on a tour of what she saw and how she responded to it. She responded to each element—texture, color, shape—and how it affected her feelings and body. Her response to our artwork was fully considered and intimate.
Betsy was there for us, not to make herself more grand. She was there to help us and to know our art and art making more fully. If there were goofs, gaps, or gaffes in our work, she knew how to point these out gently. Her responses inspired us to go back to the work and try to improve it.
Although Betsy was critiquing visual art, her process would have been equally beneficial for writing. Good critique focuses on the writing—not the writer, not the critiquer. Its purpose is to help the writer make her own work stronger. Ideally, there’s no place for chest thumping or ego massaging or denigration of the writer such as in the experience I related above.
Oh, and how did that incident turn out? I’m proud to say that I held my ground with the two professors, stayed on in the course, and earned an “A.”
In our next post (4.2) we’ll talk about how a group can best benefit individual writers.
_____________________
Column written by Janet Grace Riehl of St. Louis in collaboration with Stephanie Farrow of Albuquerque.
Pose questions about practical creativity; give ideas for future cycle themes; and join in the dialog in the comment section below.
Our families and the mainstream culture all give us their own
definitions of success. These glimmer in our minds. If we are not measuring up
to these expectations, we are drug down. Any external definition of success guarantees unhappiness. We need
to find our own tailored definition of success.
This individual definition is especially important in the
arts and in our writing. Go to a party, and say you’re a writer. The responses
you get in the United States are shaped by popular culture and run like this:
“Would I have read anything you wrote?” (In other words,
“Are you famous?”)
“Do you make money doing that?” (In other words, “Can you
make a buck off this? Did it make your fortune for you?)
These types of conversations can leave us feeling that if we
haven’t appeared yet on the Oprah Winfrey Show, or made the New York Times Best
Seller List, that we are wasting our time. Without fame and fortune, where is
the glory? Gotta think big.
Maybe not. Sometimes, when we are following a passion, it’s
better not to define success in terms of OPE (Other People’s Expectations).
What are your expectations and desires? Thinking on a small to medium scale,
might prove more productive.
Open Sez Me
Each of us has our own set of opportunities. We can improve
our chances of creating our version of success by asking these four questions:
·How do you define success?
·Are you willing to work to get
it?
·How would you recognize it if
it walked in the door?
·What would you do if you had
it?
Defining Success, Your Way
Do you need to make money from your writing? Do you need an
audience? If so, how big an audience do you need? What purpose does your
writing need to serve?
Here’s is a sample writing success definition based on the prompts
above.
1)Writing success for me means
being able to write regularly as I continue to refine my craft. Writing is
important for me, but I don’t count on it for my livelihood. I write mainly for
myself (or family and friends or critique group and writing buddy).
2)I’m willing to set aside time
to write at least an hour a day, even if it requires effort.
3)If it walked through the door,
my writing success would wear a handmade shawl I knit myself. I’d be
progressing in my craft. I’d be learning new things about myself and the world
around me.
4)If my writing success came
true, I’d be satisfied that I was doing my best, and content with my progress.
Grow your definition
as you do.
Put in your first definition in the washing machine and see
how it spins. As time goes by, your definition of writing success my evolving
to adapt to changing circumstances and desires. Keep current with that personal
definition.
If your definition lags behind or is out of sync with your
life, you will also be unhappy. For instance, the sample definition above may
need to include the wish to increase your outreach to a wider audience. Include
that. Or, your audience becomes more defined as you focus on particular topics.
Keep in touch with yourself and stay true.
Column written by Janet Grace Riehl of
St. Louis in collaboration with Stephanie Farrow of Albuquerque.
Pose questions about practical
creativity; give ideas for future cycle themes; and join in the dialog in the
comment section below.
Photo: "All the Difference," by Janet Riehl, driftwood, 2007 EcoArts Sculpture Walk, Lake County, N. California
Being on a mission directs
our attention and effort. A mission blesses us with confidence.
Here’s my story. Of course
I’d read and felt fear of failure over the years. But it wasn’t until I began
my book Sightlines: A Poet’s Diary (2006) that I came into a new
relationship with fear of failure and longing for praise and success.
The big difference for me was
the sense of mission that directed this project.
I felt I needed
to write this book, not just for myself and my family, but for anyone who had
experienced sudden loss.
As a reader commented in
August (3.4), often what stops us is our fear that if the truth were known, no one
will accept us. Even we won’t want to acknowledge our own true selves. Having a
mission overrides this potentially paralyzing fear. Accomplishing our mission
becomes foremost, more important than any fear.
When I wrote, I just wrote. I
felt nothing had to be perfect. In the drafting stage I felt I could do no
wrong. I wrote with the door closed. Only a few trusted writing friends read
the emerging work. They were filled with only encouragement at this emotionally
fragile stage.
The lack of criticism freed my writing and allowed the story
poems to remain simple and direct with no need to impress anyone, including
myself.
My sense of mission did
knuckle under briefly at the point when I had to sign off on the last proof
before publication. The door to my innermost thoughts would be fully flung
open.
What if my family was mad at me because of the story I told? What if
readers judged me as a person for the truths I bared? What if lovers of
literature laughed at my attempt to write poetry? My stream of fears of being
judged unworth became endless.
Luckily, at the moment terror
struck, I was visiting my longtime friend Stephanie Farrow in New Mexico. She
held my hand and said, “Janet, you have to let it go now. You’ve done
everything you know how to do. The book must make its own way.”
To overcome our fear of
failure, we need the armor of a sense of mission. We need supportive
relationships to bolster us during the process of creating and releasing our
work to the public.
Ask yourself:
What is my mission?
Who can I count on to support me?
With a mission and a
supportive network in place, your project becomes Mission Possible. You can
surmount your fear of failure. You can do it.
Column written by Janet
Grace Riehl of St. Louis, Missouri in collaboration with Stephanie Farrow of Albuquerque, New Mexico.
Pose questions about
practical creativity; give ideas for future cycle themes; and join in the
dialog in the comment section below.
If you’d like to see previous articles in this series, go to http://storycircle.typepad.com/scn/creativity/
Toss a coin. Success or failure? Which side do you
want the coin to land on? Most of us would cross our fingers, arms, legs, or
even our eyes in the hope that the coin lands on success. We’ve learned to
think in terms of polar opposites: black/white, funny/serious, good/bad, Yet
success and failure trot together side-by-side, not as a tag team with one in
front and the other behind.
Fear of failure and fear of success also move
together. If we fear failure or success, we pit one part of our psyche against
another, sabotaging our creative expression. By examining and learning to work
with the fears in our creative lives, we can move forward more smoothly. We
need to practice treating them as friendly neighbors rather than enemies.
American mainstream culture puts a premium on
success. It conditions us feel that if we fail--if we don’t measure up to what
society defines as success--it means that we’re unworthy. In America success
means bigness: “Big profits.” “I hit it big.” “She’s HUGE (as in a phenomenon)”
Buying into this belief is a surefire road to creative sabotage.
What are your personal fears about failing? Take
time in a quiet place to reflect on this. Make notes on what you discover about
your beliefs. You don’t have to share them, so be honest with yourself.
Now take a look at your fears of success. Do
you feel overwhelmed by the idea of being successful beyond your wildest
dreams? Does the thought evoke fear that you’ll be unmasked as an imposter?
Again, reflect on this question and take notes on what emerges.
Compare your lists of failure and success. You might
find that they aren’t as different as you thought they would be. So toss your
imaginary coin again and visualize it landing on its edge. No finger-crossing
necessary!
In our next post (3.5) in our Fie on Fear! cycle we’ll discuss
finding new ways to relate to our fears. We’ll then close this cycle in our
third post by helping you define your own success. Why not make success safe,
comfortable, attainable?
In this "Creative Catalyst"
column for the SCN blog, we present each theme cycles in three posts: first, a
keynote, followed by two posts to develop the theme. Our first cycle defined
working creativity and regular practice. The second 3-part series looked into
creative cycles. Our third cycle set the groundwork for working
productively with fear. Our fourth cycle delves more deeply into our creative
fears.See the Creative Catalyst archive at: http://storycircle.typepad.com/scn/creativity.
Column written by Janet
Grace Riehl of St. Louis in collaboration with Stephanie Farrow of Albuquerque.
Pose questions about
practical creativity; give ideas for future cycle themes; and join in the
dialog in the comment section below.
If you’d like to see previous articles in this series, go to http://storycircle.typepad.com/scn/creativity/
JAIL BREAK from Keys to Freedom site installation by
Janet Riehl at Mad Art Gallery, St. Louis inside the old Soulard jail. From 2005 national exhibition, juried by Judy Chicago. “Contemporary Women Artists Exhibition XIII,” sponsored by Women’s
Caucus for the Arts.
We’ve been talking about fear. What
does it want? What does it need? What can it offer us? We’ve noted that when we
take the bold step of dialoguing with fear, we can discover those answers and
use them to help us achieve our writing goals.
Once we better understand our
particular fears’ motivations, we’re ready answer a second set of questions.
1.Assessment. Where am I now?
2.Goal/aim. Where do I want to be?
3.Obstacles. Where do I get stuck? What gets in the way?
As we did in our last post (3.2), we’ll
use the situation of “Helen”, a stay-at-home mom who wants to write more, to
illustrate.
1.Assessment.
Helen fears that if she takes steps toward her goal of writing more her family
will suffer.
2.Goal/aim. Helen wants
to live a balanced life with the freedom to give to both her family and her
writing practice.
3.Obstacles.
Helen gets stuck in several ways, some internal and some practical.
Emotionally, she is fearful and perhaps feeling guilty. Mentally, she is caught
in either/or thinking; adding more weight to one side of the family/writing
balance beam means upsetting the other side. Practically, there are a host of
tasks to perform to keep the children well cared for, her husband happy, and
the household running.
4.Action plan.
Helen needs to do further analysis of her situation and planning. This is what
we’ll focus on in this post.
At a family meeting Helen tells her
family what she wants to do (write more) and why. She also tells them upfront
that she’ll need their help. Together, the family members list what they perceive
to be their needs. Even the youngest children participate.
Helen then analyzes the list. What
do others expect? What is absolutely required? Everyone needs to eat, of
course, and the kids need clean clothes for school, for example. What would be
nice but isn’t necessary? Cooking a gourmet meal every night would be nice for
the family but definitely not necessary, particularly with young ones at the
table.
At this point Helen asks herself the
key question, “What matters to me?” Sheputs Writing! up
there at top of the page, before she starts listing family answers.
Finally, Helen engages in the
process of identifying trade-offs and identifies other areas, which can do
double-duty. For example, if she bikes with the kids, she’ll spend time with them,
provide exercise for all of them, and save money on gas.
Once she takes the first steps, it
begins to dawn that “We might have more choices than we think.” Helencontinues tobrainstorm ideas to expand the envelope of
possibilities. She puts more structure into family life. Importantly, she
continues to talk with her family, making them an integral part of the process.
Helen discovers that more flexible thinking
sometimes yields unconventional shortcuts. Meal preparation, for example, is an
area where she’d like to spend less time. What if there were ways to cut the
number of food shopping trips? Could she simplify her menus? Could she roughly
plan out her menus for the entire month and shop from that plan? She could try
using more fresh produce toward the beginning of the month and more sturdy
produce like cabbage, potatoes, carrots, and celery toward the end of the
month. That would allow her to stack the refrigerator and larder to access the
fresh produce first. This may seem a little radical, but if it helps Helen
reduce time on a family need and open up time for her writing, it makes sense.
Writing keeps it place high on the list.
_________________
Column written by Janet Grace Riehl of St. Louis in collaboration with
Stephanie Farrow of Albuquerque. July’s post, third and last in this cycle
considers: “Can we negotiate with fear?
Pose questions about practical creativity; give
ideas for future cycle themes; and join in the dialog in the comment section
below. If you’d like to see previous articles in this series, go to
http://storycircle.typepad.com/scn/creativity/
1) Go to www.riehlife.com to sign up for a free download of a 10-minute
audio from “Sightlines: A Family Love Story in Poetry and Music.”
2)
Follow
Janet’s internet tour for her new audio book during June and July.
Click BOOKSTORE for calender, reviews, videos and Treasure Chest clues
that give you a chance to win a free "Sightlines: A Family Love Story
in Poems and Music."
Our May post (3.1) ended with our heroine (you,
dear reader) dangling from the cliff of fear. Your precarious dilemma?
Do you confront your fears, or do you stay far away from the cliff and
stuck in your comfortable, although dissatisfying, patterns?
In 1948, animation director Chuck Jones
created the best chase scenes of all time with the Road Runner cartoons.
When Wile E. Coyote chases Road Runner to the cliff, Road Runner scurries
off to the side of the ledge with a cheery “Beep, beep!” On his
website, Kevin McCorry points out that “Nothing happens to Wile E.
Coyote that Wile E. does not initiate. Road Runner can only harm him
after the chase has already begun by suddenly beep-beeping and startling
Wile E. into various dangers, such as falling off a cliff or a jump
upward which hits his head.”
It makes more sense creatively to be
Road Runner rather than Wile E. Coyote. Be prepared, savvy, clever,
and brave. Don’t let fear propel you over the cliff; put your fear
to work.
Let’s look at a case study. “Helen”
is a sister member of Story Circle Network. She struggles with balancing
roles of family and work, a classic situation in modern life for many
women.
Helen is a lover of words and an avid
reader. To the question “What brings you to life?” her answer is,
quite simply—writing. She loves attempting to craft feeling and meaning
with carefully chosen words. She reads books slowly, because she frequently
runs to her notebook to write down new ideas.
Helen is also the mother of five children,
ages 7 to 18. She has spent most of her life at home with her children
but returned to the work force as a substitute teacher 3 years ago.
She now finds herself at home again after education cuts. Now she is
trying to figure out how to organize her time to devote more of her
day to her writing.
Helen’s fear is that if she pursues
her love of writing, she won’t fulfill her obligations as wife, mother,
and homemaker. She sees herself teetering on a balance beam with her
domestic role on one side and her role as a writer on the other. There
are days when Helen wonders why she bothers. What makes her think she
has anything to say? Why would she want to take away from her family
for something so selfish?
Helen’s dialogue with fear went something
like this:
Helen: Fear, what do you need?
Fear: I need to know that we are
not letting down our family. I’m afraid that our family is suffering
because of the writing.
Helen: Fear, what do you want?
Fear: I want to figure out a way
to do both without feeling guilty.
Helen: What are you offering,
Fear?
Fear: I’m pointing out that
this is our chance to figure it out.
Helen continued her dialogue with her
fear. She put forth ideas, listened when Fear brought up potential pitfalls,
and explored alternatives to find a better balance between family and
writing acceptable to both her and her fear.
As a first step Helen is experimenting
with setting intentions as Noelle Oxenhandler suggests in The Wishing Year.
Her intention is to make the time and space to sit, writing her way
back home. She is also using our Creative Catalyst post on creating
a writing practice (See our archives at http://is.gd/zfY8.) As her experiment progresses and the situation
changes, Helen will need to go back to her dialogue to resolve new issues.
We are our own best experts on our desires
and fears. There is no one more capable of resolving the tension between
the two. Like a diplomat in an international skirmish, offer to shake
hands with your fear and work out a compromise. Don’t set yourself
up to be the hapless Wile E. Coyote, plunging headfirst over the cliff.
Better to be the problem-solving Road Runner. Beep-beep!
_______________________________________
Column written by Janet Grace Riehl of St. Louis in collaboration with
Stephanie Farrow of Albuquerque. July’s post, third and last in this cycle
considers: “Can we negotiate with fear?
Pose questions about practical creativity; give
ideas for future cycle themes; and join in the dialog in the comment section
below. If you’d like to see previous articles in this series, go to
http://storycircle.typepad.com/scn/creativity/
1) Go to www.riehlife.com to sign up for a free download of a 10-minute
audio from “Sightlines: A Family Love Story in Poetry and Music.”
2) Follow
Janet’s internet tour for her new audio book during June and July. Click BOOKSTORE for calender, reviews, videos and Treasure Chest clues that give you a chance to win a free "Sightlines: A Family Love Story in Poems and Music."
3) Comment on www.womens.memoirs to have your question chosen for "Memoir Moment" as Kendra Bonnett and Matilda Butler interview Janet on a live call-in.
Image: “Keys to Freedom” site installation by
Janet Riehl at Mad Art Gallery, St. Louis inside the old Soulard jail. From 2005 national exhibition, juried by Judy Chicago. “Contemporary Women Artists Exhibition XIII,” sponsored by Women’s
Caucus for the Arts.
Upset stomach, shortness of breath, a general feeling of
malaise. Are you coming down with the flu—or experiencing fear? It’s an emotion
that can mimic the symptoms of illness. Fear can also go beyond the physical
and wrestle us into a creative hammerlock.
As writers, we can’t afford to allow fear to strangle our
creative flow. We must learn how to provide ourselves with a sense of safety
that keeps us from abandoning our creativity. It may sound strange, but we need
to transform fear from an enemy into a friend. See if the strategies below can
help.
1) Learn to track your fear. What pattern does your fear
display? It can travel the route of a tiny tickle of uneasiness to anxiety to
panic to outright terror. Identify the progression fear normally takes for you.
It might run through every stage from A to Z, or it might stop at one of the
intermediate stages.
2) Analyze your reaction to fear. What thoughts and emotions
come up when you experience fear? Do you feel helpless? Notice your physical
symptoms. Identify how they impact your writing. Do you procrastinate by
doodling on your writing pad or playing computer solitaire? Do you abandon your
writing altogether?
3)Take a look at how you relate to fear. For some of us, the feeling of
even mild fear compounds itself. It sets off the fear cycle, making it
accelerate and intensify. At the extreme, fear can cause creative paralysis.
4) Find the key to unlock fear’s handcuffs. Whether or not
you’ve used them before, your inner toolbox has the tools to unlock the
handcuffs fear has clamped on your creativity. Physical and psychological
exercises are simple tools any of us can use. They can help us moderate fear
and even come to appreciate that our “enemy” can have friendly benefits.
Your Tool Box To Make Friends With Fear
Learn exercises to keep your body and breathing in balance
when fear arises: stretch, practice yoga, walk, or run.
One of my favorite releases for tension, frustration, anger,
or fear is the woodchopper exercise from Polarity Therapy. Click here for full
description of the woodchopper. Make sure you do it
briskly and with convincing sound as you come down.
Negotiating with Fear
One of my favorite tools is to negotiate with fear. It may
sound strange but engaging our fear head-on diminishes its power and makes it
possible for us to convert it into an ally.
The first step is to tamp down your emotions and consider
your fear as neutrally as you can. Understand that fear is a legitimate—and
indispensable—element of our human make-up. It is doing its best to protect and
care for us in potentially risky situations. It’s doing its best to keep us
safe, both physically and psychologically.
When you feel ready, start a conversation with fear by
asking it three simple questions: What do you want? What do you need? What do
you have to offer? Write down your questions followed by fear’s responses.
Continue the dialogue until you discover the reason for your fear’s recalcitrance
and how to ease it. You may be surprised at the circuitous path your
conversation takes and where you and your fear finally end up.
Here’s a sample dialogue:
You:What is it that you want, Fear?
Fear: I want to keep us safe. If you taketoo many risks, we’re going to hurt
ourselves. You want to climb out
on that limb with that project, but what if we fall out of the tree? We could
really get hurt.
You:What do you need, Fear?
Fear:
I need you to listen and understand me. I’m scared. Even fear has its fears,
you know. It would be awful if people made fun of us. I don’t want us to look
like bloody fools. I want us to be respected.
You:What do you have to offer, Fear?
Fear: I know how to keep us safe.
And the dialogue
continues. . . .
Once you know how to identify your fear in its early stages,
don’t ignore it. Respond to it right away. Remember that you have the tools you
need to change your relationship with this powerful emotion. Like learning to
master any tool, the more you use it, the more skillful you become. With
practice you’ll learn to take advantage of fear’s energy instead of allowing it
to choke off your creativity. You’ll be happier overall and more fluid in your
writing practice.
__________________________
In our
second post in this cycle (3.2), we’ll explore how to use fear productively. Our last
post in the series encourages you to define your own success.
Column
written by Janet Grace Riehl of St. Louis in collaboration with Stephanie
Farrow of Albuquerque.
Pose
questions about practical creativity; give ideas for future cycle themes; and
join in the dialog in the comment section below. If you’d like to see previous
articles in this series, go to http://storycircle.typepad.com/scn/creativity/
Go
to www.riehlife.com to sign up for a free download of a 10-minute audio from
“Sightlines: A Family Love Story in Poetry and Music.”
Woman Carrying Water," by Leslie Frances, Innisfree, Lake County, Northern California, clay sculpture
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I got rhythm, I got music. I got my [work]. Who could ask for anything more?
by George & Ira Gershwin
Runners know it as “hitting stride.” Musical combos know that the drummer drives the beat. Painters know that rhythm and recurrence are the guidelines of good composition. Dancers know that without rhythm, they’ll fall. Actors, storytellers, and comedians know that it’s all about the rhythm of pacing and timing to reach the audience. The heart knows that a syncopated rhythm spells trouble.
Creatives know that to come to terms with the cycles that surge through our lives, we must study our rhythms. Only then can we learn how our rhythms are formed and the most skillful way to respond to them.
In this final “Cycles” post we’ll discuss two of these skillful means. The first exercise is linear and logical. This is our left brain at work. The second exercise draws strongly on our emotional and intuitive worlds to include our right brain.
Method 1: Logging Your Day (Left Brain)
Logging or simple listing is a familiar activity if you’ve tried to manage your time better or sought to recall what you put into your mouth. Don’t make logging any harder than you need to. Nothing fancy, okay?
1) List what you do each hour or short chunk of the day. Were you writing? Answering email? Reading? Researching? Playing solitaire? Watching television? Walking? Eating? Washing the car? Paying your bills? Chatting on the telephone?
2) How much time did each activity take? Keep track without judgment.
3 ) Choose a time to review the log. Study the list and analyze what category it falls into. Survival (like paying bills and eating)? Mindless procrastinating (like playing solitaire because you are bored)? Relaxing or resting to recharge (like walking)? Creative forward movement (like writing, reading, researching)?
4) Notice which activities gave you pleasure. Which ones moved you further and which hindered your goal of being a working writer?
5) How do internal and external factors affect your rhythms? Do your inner and outer worlds mesh or snag each other? Without enough exercise, or sleep, or emotional satisfaction, or good nutrition what happens to your mood, health, and creative productivity?
6) Shift your schedule. Decide which activities you’ll stop doing or start doing. Which ones will you do more of or less of?
Method 2: If you are conflicted: Cross-Hand Dialogue (Right Brain)
You’ll find the complete description of cross-hand dialogue in Lucia Capacchione’s fine book “The Power of Your Other Hand: A Course in Channeling the Inner Wisdom of the Right Brain” (http://www.luciac.com/books/bookpages/PowerOtherHand.html)
Briefly, here’s how:
1) Assemble these tools: large paper (butcher paper or newsprint is good) and crayons. These are optional, but allow you greatest freedom.
2) Draw a line down the center of the page. On one side you’ll write with your dominant hand (the hand you write with and use most actively). On the other side you’ll respond with your non-dominant hand.
3) Choose a question you want to know more about. For instance: I feel in conflict over the things I must do and my writing. Help!
4) Pose the question with your dominant hand. Reply with your non-dominant hand and so forth until you come to a resolution within you.
5) When you write with your non-dominant hand, write boldly. Don’t be concerned, even if you can read it then. You can use what I call “inter-linear translation” later by going back and clearly printing what’s written. But knowing what’s written isn’t what’s most important. You know it in your gut. Writing with the other hand draws forth strong emotions, thus making your conflict more clear and the resulting resolution more possible.
Make friends with your rhythm and don’t sabotage it. In entering new territory by setting a new goal or solidifying a new habit, be patient. Slow progress works. Eventually, the rhythm method keeps your creative life in balance.
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This third post is the last one in “Cycles.” See: 2.1 Creative Cycles (February) and 2.2 Creative Cycles: Balancing Act (March )to read the complete series. See the Creative Catalyst archive at: http://storycircle.typepad.com/scn/creativity/
Column written by Janet Grace Riehl of St. Louis in collaboration with Stephanie Farrow in Albuquerque.
Pose questions about practical creativity; give ideas for future cycle themes; and join in the dialog in the comment section below.
Go to www.riehlife.com to sign up for a free download of a 10-minute audio from “Sightlines: A Family Love Story in Poetry and Music.”
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