3 Aug 2010
For the first time in three years, I have not written every day. When I left teaching in 2007, I stumbled into a few writing gigs and landed as a blogger. Discovering this newly creative habit has unleashed a gush of productivity from me. My first year out, and searching for reinvention (from teacher to whatever), writing everyday added a creative challenge to my work life. The self-imposed rhythm of writing everyday also provided some unexpected and truly amazing perks — new friends from all corners of the world, as well as a few new ones discovered right in my own backyard. Lest I forget, writing has become a steady source of income also. All this growth sprang from my constant companion, my computer.
Now, I am on an island with such beauty that it is difficult not to be moved to write. Coupled with the ocean breezes and the sunshine, the offerings of my family and friends become all the more evident. I can’t imagine a more satisfying reprieve. Computers and vacations don’t mix well. The Internet connection here is funky to say the least, and being plugged-in limits meaningful face-to face interactions.
Instead of downloading stockpiled posts like I have done in years past, I took a few weeks off. My main writing gigs (Care2 and Planet Green) seem to be surviving fine without a steady flow of posts from me. Actually, Care2 has reissued some of the oldies in my absence. You can read them here.
Since writing is now what I do and love, and a reprieve from the ordinary (and the computer) is always a good thing, I set myself adrift to see where and when I would reconnect with my readers before boarding the ferry back to my nest. I quickly discovered that a reprieve is not without stirrings and observations about work.
5 Things I’ve Learned From A Mid-Summer’s Writing Reprieve
1. Slowing down allows for more reflection.
2. More reflection provides for more space.
3. More space gives way to a different intention.
4. Different intentions delve deeper.
5. Delving deeper blows the lid off everything.
Main photo: Ben Scott
Other photos: Osprey nest, friend Hilary and I (in the red hat), and my son unplugged.