Reading those words, that you are letting go of finishing "into the deep", I found myself filled with joy and excitement. Something is cooking in the field, and it takes the time it takes to come into view - and it's something that is quite unlike anything that has been possible before. It's so exciting to sit together in that kind of unknown! Here's to it, dear Dougald!
I salute you, James! An old friend used to tell me, "You know how people go on about the importance of not giving up? Well, how many people do you know who are unhappy because they left a situation they should have stayed in, and how many because they stay in a situation that they ought to leave?" The truth is, both patterns are common enough, but my friend was right to underline the importance of giving up, when that's what's called for. Blessings on whatever comes next for you!
This is deeply life-giving, Dougald. Thank you! How mysterious that a exhortation to empty hands could be so en-couraging, a putting-me-into-courage. Your meditations also reminded me of one of my favorite passages of Annie Dillard in which she makes it clear that we may not hoard what you call the gift....really the entirety of The Writing Life is pertinent, but here's a great part:
"One of the few things I know about writing is this: spend it all, shoot it, play it, lose it, all, right away, every time. Do not hoard what seems good for a later place in the book, or for another book; give it, give it all, give it now. The impulse to save something good for a better place later is the signal to spend it now. Something more will arise for later, something better. These things fill from behind, from beneath, like well water. Similarly, the impulse to keep to yourself what you have learned is not only shameful, it is destructive. Anything you do not give freely and abundantly becomes lost to you. You open your safe and find ashes."
I read it when I was still quite young, as a teenager, if I remember right. I remember being astounded by the prose style, the likes of which I had never seen anywhere before.
Carrying this into my edits (a small secret told here… I’m putting a book together… now you know - and I dearly hope for the blessing)
… as I add and remove meaning… from No-Form Gifted… the empty hand for receiving… the open hand for holding…
I've never called myself a writer or an author before - and I am currently diving into the daunting liminality of it all - that deep, exhaustive extrication of 'what is being' - and doing my damn best to gift it voice. For as soon as it is - it isn't... with the acceptance.
Thanks, Jacob! I wish you good luck on that dive into liminality. The compass of aliveness will serve you well in the editing process. When in doubt, read your words aloud and listen for what is needed.
A beautiful reminder, Dougald. Thank you, and may abundance fall into your empty hands. Waiting for what may come takes courage, but you have that, as is evident in the vulnerability of your writing.
This is beautiful Dougald: "Here in the early weeks of a new year, I’m learning to empty my hands again, not to fall back into habits of holding tightly, but to trust in the mysterious abundance out of which gifts come." This loosening of the grasp is a practice. Sometimes I call it letting go of the reins. Not easy stuff!
on the flipside—do you have any (non-secret) techniques for getting your hook baited and back in the water, when the time feels write to fish for a new story?
Ah, great question, and if we put the metaphors together, it becomes something like a koan: how do you bait those empty hands?
No surefire answers, but whatever it is that spring cleans your faculties. A long walk somewhere high and windy. Time away from screens with family. Rereading bits of Keith Johnstone's books on impro, or Elizabeth Gilbert's Big Magic, or Stewart Lee's How I Escaped My Certain Fate, or anything else that is a reminder of the strange paths by which creation comes about. A bit of prayer, if you have a way that works for you. Calls with those particular friends who always seem to be generative to speak to. Patience, or humour at your own impatience. Reading something totally other than what you normally read or write about. Tiring out the body with some useful physical activity. Rinse and repeat... Or anyway, some combination of or variation on these!
Nevertheless it seems to me that one has to sit a spell in having absolutely no idea what may happen next. If techniques are useful, it is after one has sat in such silent not knowing for a bit.
Thanks - this is real good wisdom to hear, yet rarely spoken I feel - the possibility of emptying oneself and the time and humility it takes to ’stop trying to be clever’ - this is something I too will be learning again and again and again!
Humility is powerful, and is just what we need right now. You might enjoy my social science paper: A Roadmap to Ecological Justice. The five minute animation linked below serves as an introduction.
Humanity is consuming 1.75 Earths, the carrying capacity is about 0.5 Earths. Therefore we need to shrink the global economy by about 70% to get back within carrying capacity. 100*(1.75-0.5)/1.75
I love the way you put this so honestly, Dougald. I've often told my poetry students that, even though I believe revision is important, if I find myself tinkering TOO much with a poem or another piece of writing then I know it's already failed. The piece doesn't have life.
Thanks, Lorna – it's good to know that others recognise this experience. An old friend of mine has been known to say, "Karma is just... how soon are you going to listen?" As in, it's a lot more costly if you wait until the universe is shouting at you than if you get the message while it's still a whisper. Noticing earlier when the life has gone out of an idea is another version of learning to listen for the whisper, I think.
Reading those words, that you are letting go of finishing "into the deep", I found myself filled with joy and excitement. Something is cooking in the field, and it takes the time it takes to come into view - and it's something that is quite unlike anything that has been possible before. It's so exciting to sit together in that kind of unknown! Here's to it, dear Dougald!
Ah, thanks Helen! Well, let's see what shows up, into this space of emptiness. Grateful for your companionship within the field.
I just created such an opening for myself, too!
https://rword.substack.com/p/an-experiment-nears-completion
I salute you, James! An old friend used to tell me, "You know how people go on about the importance of not giving up? Well, how many people do you know who are unhappy because they left a situation they should have stayed in, and how many because they stay in a situation that they ought to leave?" The truth is, both patterns are common enough, but my friend was right to underline the importance of giving up, when that's what's called for. Blessings on whatever comes next for you!
This is deeply life-giving, Dougald. Thank you! How mysterious that a exhortation to empty hands could be so en-couraging, a putting-me-into-courage. Your meditations also reminded me of one of my favorite passages of Annie Dillard in which she makes it clear that we may not hoard what you call the gift....really the entirety of The Writing Life is pertinent, but here's a great part:
"One of the few things I know about writing is this: spend it all, shoot it, play it, lose it, all, right away, every time. Do not hoard what seems good for a later place in the book, or for another book; give it, give it all, give it now. The impulse to save something good for a better place later is the signal to spend it now. Something more will arise for later, something better. These things fill from behind, from beneath, like well water. Similarly, the impulse to keep to yourself what you have learned is not only shameful, it is destructive. Anything you do not give freely and abundantly becomes lost to you. You open your safe and find ashes."
Oh, this is such a good reminder that I need to read The Writing Life. It's been coming up in various places lately, so I'm going to pay attention!
Dillard's Pilgrim at Tinker Creek is one of my top five books ever! Have you read it, Dougald?
I'm ashamed to say I haven't, but let this be the year when I correct that omission!
I read it when I was still quite young, as a teenager, if I remember right. I remember being astounded by the prose style, the likes of which I had never seen anywhere before.
Dougald,
Carrying this into my edits (a small secret told here… I’m putting a book together… now you know - and I dearly hope for the blessing)
… as I add and remove meaning… from No-Form Gifted… the empty hand for receiving… the open hand for holding…
I've never called myself a writer or an author before - and I am currently diving into the daunting liminality of it all - that deep, exhaustive extrication of 'what is being' - and doing my damn best to gift it voice. For as soon as it is - it isn't... with the acceptance.
Blessed Be
Thanks, Jacob! I wish you good luck on that dive into liminality. The compass of aliveness will serve you well in the editing process. When in doubt, read your words aloud and listen for what is needed.
A beautiful reminder, Dougald. Thank you, and may abundance fall into your empty hands. Waiting for what may come takes courage, but you have that, as is evident in the vulnerability of your writing.
Thank you so much for this, reminder of what it means to work with integrity.
This is beautiful Dougald: "Here in the early weeks of a new year, I’m learning to empty my hands again, not to fall back into habits of holding tightly, but to trust in the mysterious abundance out of which gifts come." This loosening of the grasp is a practice. Sometimes I call it letting go of the reins. Not easy stuff!
man this is good.
on the flipside—do you have any (non-secret) techniques for getting your hook baited and back in the water, when the time feels write to fish for a new story?
Ah, great question, and if we put the metaphors together, it becomes something like a koan: how do you bait those empty hands?
No surefire answers, but whatever it is that spring cleans your faculties. A long walk somewhere high and windy. Time away from screens with family. Rereading bits of Keith Johnstone's books on impro, or Elizabeth Gilbert's Big Magic, or Stewart Lee's How I Escaped My Certain Fate, or anything else that is a reminder of the strange paths by which creation comes about. A bit of prayer, if you have a way that works for you. Calls with those particular friends who always seem to be generative to speak to. Patience, or humour at your own impatience. Reading something totally other than what you normally read or write about. Tiring out the body with some useful physical activity. Rinse and repeat... Or anyway, some combination of or variation on these!
Nice suggestions!
Nevertheless it seems to me that one has to sit a spell in having absolutely no idea what may happen next. If techniques are useful, it is after one has sat in such silent not knowing for a bit.
Thanks - this is real good wisdom to hear, yet rarely spoken I feel - the possibility of emptying oneself and the time and humility it takes to ’stop trying to be clever’ - this is something I too will be learning again and again and again!
Thank you,
Rupert
Humility is powerful, and is just what we need right now. You might enjoy my social science paper: A Roadmap to Ecological Justice. The five minute animation linked below serves as an introduction.
Humanity is consuming 1.75 Earths, the carrying capacity is about 0.5 Earths. Therefore we need to shrink the global economy by about 70% to get back within carrying capacity. 100*(1.75-0.5)/1.75
https://youtu.be/yyEEJGoaLd4
Thank you, thank you for this. I need to remember the wisdom here often!
The insights on the creative process here spoke deeply to me. I have forwarded to a friend. Thank you.
I love the way you put this so honestly, Dougald. I've often told my poetry students that, even though I believe revision is important, if I find myself tinkering TOO much with a poem or another piece of writing then I know it's already failed. The piece doesn't have life.
Thanks, Lorna – it's good to know that others recognise this experience. An old friend of mine has been known to say, "Karma is just... how soon are you going to listen?" As in, it's a lot more costly if you wait until the universe is shouting at you than if you get the message while it's still a whisper. Noticing earlier when the life has gone out of an idea is another version of learning to listen for the whisper, I think.