The Need to Create

Written by Emma Newman

“They’re getting boring again.”

“Who?”

“Humanity.”

“All of them?”

She sighed at him. “Yes, all of them.”

“You’re just bored with everything,” he picked up the long spoon and dipped it into the tall glass cup, swirling the frothy foam into a vortex that sucked it down into the dark coffee beneath. So beautiful. “How can you say humanity is boring in a place like this?” he gestured widely to the rest of the coffee shop. “And when there are such marvels as double choc latte coffee with caramel syrup? That’s a wonder in and of itself.”

She rolled her eyes. “You can’t seriously be arguing against my observation with an overpriced beverage as your evidence?”

“Why not? It’s as good an example as any.”

“Of what?”

“Creativity.”

She turned away from him, almost as bored by him. “Look at them,” she said after a few moments of gazing out onto the high street. “Rushing around, going hither and thither-”

“Here and there.”

“What?”

“Here and there. Come on beloved, at least try to use the vernacular.”

“Here and there,” she resumed, mimicking his clipped English exactly. “And for what? Nothing important. Nothing interesting. Nothing… exciting.”

“It might be for them.”

“Darling, I love you more than it’s possible to express with this dull language, but you’re being tedious.”

He frowned at her jibe and went back to sipping the coffee. She was making him tense, this conversation, her mood, none of it would lead them anywhere good.

“I want to ‘shake things up again’, to use the vernacular,” she smirked. “It’s time. It’s all stagnated again.”

He dropped the spoon back onto the saucer. “Not yet, surely? It’s hardly been any time at all since the last one.”

“Years!” She retorted.

“Can’t we give Obama a chance?”

She wrinkled her nose and picked up the biscotti she had abandoned earlier. “Oh he won’t do anything interesting at all. I guarantee it.”

“Hasn’t he already? First black president. That’s something.”

She dunked the biscuit into the coffee, watched the liquid being sucked up into it. “He won’t do anything big. He’s just one of them, tied into systems and rules and not really powerful at all. He won’t do anything radical or dramatic. Not like my last one.”

He winced. “The last one was a disaster.”

“The Cultural Revolution was not a disaster!”

He glanced at the woman at the next table who had looked over at the outburst. “Keep your voice down, beloved.”

She laughed and glared at the woman who looked away with all the British embarrassment bred into her for generations. “It wasn’t a disaster,” she whispered across the table in a mock conspiratorial tone.

“Millions died!”

“But it was so interesting.”

He sat back, his body wanting to distance him as far as it could without offending her. He hated it when she was in this mood. “Don’t be so heartless.”

She laughed again, this time almost knocking over her coffee cup as she struggled to stay on her chair. It seized her completely and he forgot his tension briefly as he savoured the sight of her so filled with amusement.

“Darling, admit it, it’s time for another one. Don’t you remember Hitler? He was thrilling.”

“He was a madman.”

“At least he did something. Not like your last one.”

“Hitler’s antics led to the deaths of thousands!” he snapped. “Why do you have to be so bloodthirsty?”

“Me?” she widened her eyes until they were big and round, like a coquettish girl. “I didn’t give birth to him. I didn’t raise him.”

“Technicalities. Besides, my last one did do wonderful things, you just didn’t notice.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Oh she only helped to discover DNA. But I suppose that isn’t nearly interesting enough for you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh please. Don’t try and pass off a dud as an accomplishment. Besides, that one doesn’t count. You did that one behind my back.”

He didn’t try to deny it. The silence stretched between them until she leant forwards and grasped both of his hands in hers.

“Darling, don’t be like this. Look, humanity needs this. It needs another visionary. Someone bold, daring, someone with an idea that will change the world.”

“It’s different now. It’s not the same as it used to be.”

“It should be easier than ever.”

He sighed, caressing the back of her hands with tiny circles of his thumbs. “I don’t know beloved. It always ends up in a huge war or a new religion. Neither do any good. And there are the rules to remember too.”

“Don’t worry about those. One little change and no-one will notice. They’re old and stupid anyway. I do take your point about the religion or war thing though. That’s why I was so pleased with Mao.”

“That was just religion in another form,” he muttered.

“Darling, you’re bored too, you just won’t admit it. You used to find it so fun. Don’t you remember-”

“Don’t bring him up again,” he warned and pulled his hands away from hers. “That was just freakish. That bloody Peter… he just went on and on about it…”

She laughed. “What about Constantine? He was interesting.”

He shrugged.
“Oh come on,” she sighed and sat back herself. He knew she was thinking of the next argument, she wouldn’t let this rest. “What about Genghis?”

“Good grief no!”

“Charlemagne?”

“He couldn’t even read. I don’t know why you were so pleased with him.”

She shrugged. “He was enterprising, despite his limitations. I know one you’ll remember liking; Shankara.”

He blinked. “Which one was that?”

She tutted. “Chisti then. He was charming. You know, the Sufi.”

This time he shrugged. “I’m sorry beloved, but I just don’t want to see yet another grand war or religion spring up.”

“It’s not our fault!” she said peevishly. “It’s not like we interfere once we’ve started it off.”

He threw his hands into the air. “Oh go on then. I know there’s no talking you out of this. What did you have in mind?”

“She’s going to do it!”

“Shhh.”

“Why? It’s not like she can hear us.”

He frowned. “Because I want to be able to hear her.”

They were standing in an average suburban kitchen, watching the woman read the recipe.

“I love this part Darling, don’t you? When she decides whether to try it or not. I bet she’s thinking; ‘Is this real? How could it work?’”

He couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. “Yes, but it’s harder to find women who’ll try it these days. It was so much easier when there were wise women who’d sell them a fertility recipe for a goat. But there are few people more desperate than a woman who wants a child and can’t conceive.”

“She’s already decided, she left the bowl of water out last night. One more cup of tea and then she’ll start. I bet you she will.”

He squeezed her hand. “I won’t bet. I agree. One more cup.”

The woman put the kettle on and they laughed at her. Moments like this made him so happy, the way they could share the minutiae of events leading to a Creation. All that potential being brought into the world, there was nothing better.

“Okay Pammy,” the woman muttered to herself. “Nothing to lose. The worst that happens is that I make an awful cake. And the best… well, let’s hope for a boy. No a girl. Actually,” she looked up at the ceiling, “actually Universe I don’t mind if it’s a boy or a girl, I just want it to be healthy.”

They watched her read through the recipe again as the kettle clicked off. She made a cup of tea, sipped it and then retrieved a large bowl of water from the garden to place it on the large kitchen table.

“Right,” she said, placing the piece of paper next to a basket of goods that waited near the bowl. “One pint of water that has caught the first rays of sunlight on midsummer morning… check. The heart of an unopened rose… check. Two pounds of flour milled by a son without a father… well, this will have to do. Check. Three tablespoons of honey from a hive less than a year old. Check. A drop of blood from the hopeful mother. Oh, that’s me, and I’ll do that at the time so ‘check’. A tablespoon of salt, check. One ounce of yeast… check. Right then. Time to start.”

They watched her measure out the ingredients into a traditional mixing bowl. “I like your recipe. Do you think she’ll get it right?” he asked. “She’s been thorough so far. Maybe this will be a good one.”

She shrugged. “Maybe. They always get something wrong. Who knows.”

He watched the woman, Pammy he reminded himself, begin to knead the dough. He could feel the potential filling the room, crackling like static electricity. It always made him feel light headed but he persevered. He felt the hand he held quiver and smiled at his beloved. She was too fixated on the process to notice.

Pammy leant into the dough, compressing it with her hands and pushing it away before folding it back on itself. She soon fell into a rhythm but it was hard work, harder than she thought. After quarter of an hour she’d built up a sweat and wanted to stop, but the recipe had been very specific. Sixty seven minutes…

“You’re making her work for this baby, beloved,” he whispered and she nodded.

“Why don’t you go and find us somewhere to celebrate?” she whispered back. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”

He agreed readily. It had been a long time since he had managed to last through a Creation from start to finish. He got too caught up in that meeting of forces, the swirling maelstrom of magic and mundanity. The image of his swirling coffee cup foam came to his mind as he wandered out of the house. True creation was like sucking something light down into the darkness. The mundane plane was so very dark.

He found himself back on the leafy street, saw a woman walking a dog, a car drive past. All so normal. No-one knew that the next world shaker was being made in the house behind him. The secret made him smile.

He strolled under the avenue of trees, looking for the perfect place to rest with his love once their work was done. She was so thorough. She always rode out those strange feelings made by the creation, letting him relax. And these modern times were so much more comfortable. Twenty first century Winchester was a world away from the filth of Mongolia and Palestine and the ancient world in general.

Then it struck him. He was getting lazy. Just like these modern times of convenience and comfort, he was taking the easiest route through something that he once took so much pride in. They’d spent too long here, it was evident. As soon as this Creation was over, he’d insist they went and spent some time somewhere more challenging. Africa perhaps, or Bangladesh. Somewhere harsh.

He went back to the house, hurried down the hallway to the kitchen, expecting to see his beloved standing where he’d left her. It hadn’t even entered his mind that she could be doing anything else, let alone be pouring something into the dough as the poor woman was staring at the clock, willing the minutes to tick by.

“What are you doing?” his voice boomed and the culprit leapt away from the woman. “What did you add?”

“Nothing critical,” she said back hurriedly, watching his form change with his emotions.

“Rule breaker!” he pointed a finger at her that was shaping itself into a talon. “How dare you! How dare you intervene once the Creation has begun!”

He watched her shrink away from him, all the while the woman kneaded, on and on, push, stretch, fold over, as his wrath filled her small kitchen.

“Darling one, please don’t be angry, I just wanted to make this mortal even more special!”

He raised himself up to his full height and she cowered beneath him, his fury taking her from the mundane plane with him, making the kitchen fade into pastel colours and transparent shapes around them. As he seethed, he realised that she had been doing this every time, every single Creation that he had dawdled away from, she had interfered. Hitler, Genghis, Jesus and all the others, all made extreme by her meddling.

He knew he was going to end her, and as soon as that came to him, he calmed. It was inevitable, and something he should have done a long time before, had he not fallen in love with her.

As he calmed, the kitchen restored itself around them. He saw the hope and relief in her eyes. He smiled, she didn’t see the lack of warmth in it. He went to the woman pounding the dough and sniffed at it. A bitter spice had been added.

“You wanted another war,” he said sadly but received no reply. He didn’t need one. He got to work.

“What are you doing?” she asked nervously but he ignored her. “Darling? What is that? Is it a spice? What’s in that bottle?”

He poured three drops from the bottle he kept in his pocket. “Tears of joy wept by a man who had lost all hope.”

After sweet spices were added to balance out hers, powdered breath from a lover’s sigh was added, then distilled hope from a crystal vial.

“Why are you doing this?” she shrieked. “You’re breaking the rules too!”

“I’m undoing your work,” he hissed and she backed away. “It’s too late for this to be a normal child, even to be a world-shaker. So I’m making my own child. This time, I won’t get the ingredients wrong.”

“This… time?” her voice quavered.

He simply looked at her, and from that she knew that she had been made. They weren’t equals as he had let her believe out of love. Out of carelessness.

“But you said there can only ever be two of us, male, female, with humanity to reflect us. What will it mean to have a third?”

“Third?” He replied, stepping back from the sparkling dough, feeling the heady rush of a thousand million potential lives coalescing under the mortal’s hands. “There will be no third. Only two. Only ever two, once beloved. And the final ingredient comes from you.”

He caught the sound of her scream, pressed it tight between his palms into an oily, cold droplet and let it slide into the dough. This one would be different. This time, the recipe was perfect.

“Sixty seven minutes!” the woman cheered and flopped into her chair. “Thank God for that.”

Thank you for your generosity in allowing me to share this story here, Em!

Here are some more suggestions to help you get your writing feet tapping, then spinning, stamping and swirling.

1. Put on your dancing shoes. Yes, I mean this metaphorically (unless changing footwear works for you!).  What I mean is to do something that signifies, to you, that you’re changing state.  That you’re ready to be graceful, or playful, or outrageously passionate.  Maybe you’ll want different writing shoes for different sorts of writing.  There may be times for ballet shoes… and others when only bright red flamenco shoes will do.

Flamenco Vivo by deVos' on Flickr

2. Listen to the beat. This works in two ways.  Listen to the beat of your own words.  Adjust your ear so you’re listening out for patterns, rhythm, repetition, the beat and movement of words.  This is an important thing to watch out for when you’re going back and editing.  You want to cut and move things around so the words flow, and the meaning emerges like a drum beat.

But there’s another beat you’re listening out for: the sound of honesty, the quiet whispers of your soul, the beat of your heart.  You’ll know yourself when your writing comes from that place – it will play a totally different sort of music.

3. Dance like no-one is watching.  You’ll probably know the quote this comes from.  It’s a reminder to listen to our own inner music, to dance – to write, to create, to live – without the need for feedback or approval, without trying to  match the expectations of others.  You might not always want to share the words that come from this exercise, but it’s a liberating and exhilarating thing to do just for you.

4. Lead your partner. If you’re writing to be read then part of your job is to lead your reader through your work.  You need to know where you’re going, where they’re starting from, and how to take them with you, effortlessly and easily so all they need to do is let go and enjoy the ride.

I don’t know if you’re lucky enough to have danced with a really good lead.  I have, and boy does it feel good!  It’s not necessarily about being an expert dancer (or writer) though – more about having confidence, self-belief, plus the desire to create a fabulous experience for the person you’re dancing with.  All of those are attributes that will add magic to your writing too.

5. Smile. I know I’ve said this before, but you can’t dance well without smiling… nor can you avoid smiling with delight after you’ve danced your little heart out.  The same can most definitely said for writing.

So put on your shoes.  Tune into the rhythm of the music.  Smile.

Then let go and dance.

We read books to carry us off to different worlds, new ideas, hidden places of the imagination.

We write, perhaps for others, but often just for ourselves: journals, poems and stories that give us breathing space, allow us to express ideas, to share our deepest hopes and fears, to keep our writing sanity.

But you can also use your words to change the state of your readers: to move them from where they are to where they want to be… or to a place they’ve never yet dared to dream of.

Photo credit: Escape by dev null on flickr

If you’re writing an article, a blog post, a piece of non-fiction, a newsletter for clients, a feature on coaching there are lots of ways you can put your words to work to set your readers free.

Here are some of them… using ESCAPE as our guide:

E: engage your readers. Start where they’re at, get into their shoes, feel yourself into where they are… and where they want to be. Manage your own state before you start to write: make sure you’re in a suitable frame of mind for your writing task (positive, playful, optimistic)

S: suggest new avenues. Don’t tell people what to do (some folk are bound to resist) but play around with ideas, dreams, visions, new ways of doing things, crazy half-baked schemes… and leave your readers to choose the direction that appeals to them

C: carry your readers forward. Start where they’re at and move them towards a suitable end point – as easily and effortlessly as you can. Get rid of blocks and obstacles, leaps in logic, awkward phrases, management jargon or too much irrelevant material. Allow them to glide through your words.

A: adventure. Play, stretch and experiment with your content or your language. Test the waters of something new. Open your mind to new possibilities, look for different ways of describing something, allow new options to float into view. (You might just find you’ve changed your own state as well your readers by the time you’ve finished your writing!)

P: possibility. Use the language of possibility rather than necessity. Choose verbs like “could” or “might” and steer well clear of “should” “have to”, “must”. It’s like adding baking powder to a cake mix: these words automatically lighten your writing and make your readers feel lighter and more playful too

E: enjoy. Get into the right state before you start to write, one where you’re enjoying playing, adventuring, creating new possibilities with your words. Enjoy the playfulness that emerges as you write. Smile at the pictures, sounds and feelings that materialise. States are infectious. Your positive, playful state will help your readers to connect to your work, leaving them feeling lighter, more creative, more playful too.

When you read something that transports you to a new idea of what’s possible, what kind of language do you notice at work? How do you approach your writing when you want to gift your readers the freedom to escape?

Grace: the grace of a ballerina: elegance, poise, gracefulness, finesse; suppleness, agility, nimbleness, light-footedness

I turned to the thesaurus for an entry point to writing about grace.  Then turned to YouTube (of all unlikely places!) for further inspiration: watching ballerinas dance.

As I watched the video I thought about ways you can apply the same lessons and techniques to your writing:

Tread lightly: If you’re writing for other people, think about managing your state before you start to write.  Your words will feel lighter if you pen them from a positive frame of mind.  Smile to yourself.  Hear the music in your head.  Put your baggage to one side. (If you really must you can always pick it up again later.)

Take the smallest number of steps you can: Think of your writing as a dance you’re making from one side of the stage to another, or from the start of a piece of music to its natural end.  Your aim is to get there as lightly, as fluidly as you can, with the smallest number of steps you can manage.  That means getting rid of extra words and superfluous parts of your story.  Make every step count.

Focus on one spot: As the ballerina spins she focuses on one spot in front of her.  Try focusing on one spot as you write.  That might be a focus on one person who really needs to hear your words, or a focus on your positive purpose or intention.  It’ll help your words to flow.

Tune into the rhythm: Allow yourself to hear the rhythms of the world about you, of your body, of your breath.  Feel the rhythm of your words as they dance across the page.  Edit with a musician’s ear.

Start with your feet on the ground: It’s a long time since I’ve done any ballet, but when I think of the starting point it’s with two feet firmly on the ground.  Strong, graceful writing comes from a similar place.  The strength comes from the connection back to who you are: your sense of self, your values, your sense of place, the ground that’s firmly beneath your feet.

Spin, jump and twhirl: Experiment with your words.  Let them dance and play.  Enjoy the connections and associations that tumble out when you play a litle, dance a little, with the words on your page.  Don’t be afraid to jump!

Smile: Smile when you write.  It’s the simplest, most effective way I know to soften your writing, to allow you to tap into your mood, your rhythm, your reader.  To make a connection with the one person who most needs to read what you’re going to say.  To hold your head straight as you dance, jump, spin and twhirl, enchanting us with the patterns and rhythms of your words.

What other writing lessons could you draw from the graceful dance of a ballerina?

“All of life is a coming home. Salesmen, secretaries, coal miners, beekeepers, sword swallowers, all of us.  All the restless hearts of the world, all trying to find a way home.” (Patch Adams)

We’re all meaning making creatures: trying to make sense of our experience, trying to make a reality of our hopes and dreams, trying to work out who we are.  Trying to find our way back home.

Writing, for me, is at the heart of that search for meaning.  And when I think about what the “writing space” represents it’s carving out the time and the freedom to explore new paths.  To give yourself the permission to experiment and the opportunity to play.  To listen to the different writing voices that emerge when you give yourself the space to write.  To start to identify your writing way home.

My home after berlusca by boscizzi on Flickr

This piece marks the end of my first year contributing to the Writing Space.  Like most creative projects, I wasn’t sure what it was going to look like when I first started.  I could see some of the path ahead, but had no idea where it would end up.  This seemed like a good opportunity to look back and see where the path has taken me.

(Of course one of the best things about writing is that you can go back and read through your words – often with delighted surprise at something you’d forgotten you’d written, and occasionally with a powerful sense of recognition.)

With reflection I can see that the Writing Space includes:

The opportunity to experiment. To have adventures, and try new things (Are You Ready For a Blogging Adventure?)  To play with your writing, and explore new ways to delight in the power of your own words.  (7 Ways To Spice Up Your Writing)  Or maybe to give yourself permission to write the things  you’ve always dreamed about, but never (yet) got round to making happen.  (What Do You Dream About Writing?)

Writing what matters: Taking the time to write the stuff that counts.  That might be the big things: the strong emotions that course through your heart.  (Writing To Sustain The Heart) Or maybe it’s the small, everyday things that you want to notice, to say thanks for, and to value.  (Get Ready to Celebrate With the Gift of Words)

Giving yourself permission.  So many people dismiss their writing because they’re ‘not writers’.  But writing to make meaning, to make sense of things, to find your way home – that kind of writing doesn’t need to be done by a great artist or writer.  It needs to be done by you.  So there are times when it’s good to keep it simple and others when you need to let your words run free.

Listening to what you’re telling yourself.  Your writing isn’t just a way to communicate with others.  You’ll find the most important message is the one you’ve written, however indirectly, to yourself. (Are You Tuned Into the Power of Your Own Words?)

Writing things down to make them happen. Writing how you want things to turn out, and how (or who) you want to be.  Sharing a secret, quietly, with your page as the first step to opening a new world of possibility.  (Opportunity: The Start of a New Page) Writing your way to the home you know is waiting. (Writing Routes to Reinvention)

Writing to hear your own voice. Giving yourself the freedom and space to write can help you to sort things out in  your mind, to sort out the trivial from the important, to connect back to your core values, your sense of self, whatever it is that you recognise as your ’source’.  It’s what I described as keeping your writing feet on the ground:

Writing – personal writing in your own writing space – is a simple way to reconnect back to the present moment. To feel and to write the way you feel now, never mind the whys and wherefores. To let some stuff go and just… be.

To feel our toes uncurl, notice the warmth of the sand, feel our weight shift and settle. To know we’re grounded, present, here.

Those are some of the things that the Writing Space means to me. A space that helps to find our way home.

What does the writing space mean to you?  Are there other dimensions of the writing space that you’d like me to explore over the next 12 months?

Then maybe it’s time to cut the ropes and fly off into the wild, colourful adventure of blogging…

Photo Credit: Temecula Festival by ms4jah on Flickr

Although writing a blog might sound like something reserved for those of a technical nature, or citizen journalists, or youngsters who are glued to their pcs, you’d be amazed how many ordinary people are now sharing a little piece of their world with other members of the world wide web.

Many of the writers at the Calm Space are also enthusiastic and gifted bloggers: in fact that’s how many of us got to know each other in the first place.  Making connections across countries, across continents, in fact across the other side of the world is just one of the ways that writing a blog can transport you off into new adventures.

Here are some of the other ways that blogging might just carry you off into the horizon…

• You’ll stretch and develop your writing, experimenting with new styles and content

• Your words will be read by people in other parts of the world, connecting you together through the power of your words

• You’ll form friendships which in turn can lead to new working relationships, business partnerships, or ideas for projects and initiatives

• You’ll get used to hearing the sound of your own writing voice, and soon you’ll be strengthening and developing that voice till you’re singing out loud

• Reading the work of other people will give you an insight into the way people live in other parts of the world, reminding you of how different our lives can be… and how many common ties bind us together

• You might learn how to share pictures, videos: offering a peek into your world and maybe bringing a burst of sunshine and colour into someone else’s

• You’ll find that other people are interested in you and who you are, where you live, what your work is like, what kind of things you can see from your kitchen window.  Your dull old ordinary world can start to seem special and exciting, when viewed through the lens of other people

• You might travel to meet some of the people you’ve spoken to through your writing online. I’ve travelled to Chicago and Italy this year to meet up with other bloggers.  Although Australia seems a long way from Scotland to meet up with other Calm Space authors… who knows what might happen one day?

• You can use what you produce and what you’ve learned to achieve other lifelong ambitions, like writing a book or creating a store to sell your craft work

• You’ll find yourself exploring new avenues, new ideas each and every day, following ideas – your own and other people’s – and flying off to see where they take you, just like these gorgeous balloons…

If you’re already a blogger, what kind of adventures has it led you into?

If you’re thinking about getting started – what would help to give you the final push, to cut the ropes and set your writing free?

Here are some of the ‘write it down to make it happen’ approaches I’ve used over the years:

Look into the future: write a letter or a diary entry from your future self maybe 10, 20 or 30 years into the future. You might write about the kind of day you’ve had, who you’ve seen, what kind of work you were doing, what you could see out of your kitchen window as you ate your breakfast or cooked an evening meal… And as with all of these techniques the more specific you can make it the better. Once you’ve started to describe it you can start to move towards it and to bring it into reality.

Write ‘as if’: start writing (letters, journals, blogs) ‘as if’ you were already living the life you want to be living. It makes it seem more real to you and sends a signal to your unconscious mind that this is the direction you want to be moving in. I did this for my recent house move – I started a private blog written as if I’d already made the move. It helped me to believe this new reality was possible

Looking back: some coaches get you to think about the obituary people might write about you – or the obituary you’d like them to write. Might sound a bit morbid but taking some time to think about the specific things you want to have made happen, the kind of life you’d like to see described – the kind of person you want to be remembered as can help you to shape your future self (or rather, make sure you become the person you already are)

Make yourself a job offer: when I left my successful, high-paid (high stress, burning me out) job I knew I wanted to leave but found it hard to make the final jump, especially when I was moving into an unknown world of travelling, volunteering and working for myself rather than a smooth transition into more paid employment. I experimented with writing myself a very detailed job offer, including a person specification (surprisingly the person they were looking for sounded just like me!) and setting out all the benefits the ‘job’ would bring. (It might sound a bit crazy but I wrote myself a job acceptance too – a commitment to the new life I was creating for myself)

Write down what you want: think about a situation that’s important to you and focus on what you want to happen – then write it down. Again make it specific, include details about where you are, who you’re meeting, things they might say, things you’re eating, smelling, seeing out of the window… You can power it up even more by writing about why this matters: what will happen next and then what good things – for you, and the wider world – will unfold as a result.

Write your values: writing the things that are important to you, writing about your values and beliefs, especially if you do it over and over (for example, through a blog)… well I think that’s probably the single biggest way you can help to reinvent yourself – or rather, to become the person you really are. It’s a powerful form of affirmation: writing, over and over, about the things that matter to you, that shape you, that make you what and who you are

I’m still learning about some of these techniques. If you’re interested you might want to explore Write it Down, Make it Happen by Henriette Anne Klauser. She has lots of different techniques you can try and oodles of stories about people who’ve written things down and then seen an uncanny resemblance to the future that’s unfolded.

There are different theories we could put forward as to why these techniques might work. Maybe it’s a signal to our unconscious minds. Maybe it’s a signal to the universe or some higher power. Maybe you’re sceptical (like me!) but have still found (like me!) that writing some of these positive futures down does help us to move into them, to create them, to make them happen.

Has writing things down played a part in your own adventure in reinvention and making things happen? I’d love to hear more if you’ve a story to share!

And yet often times we ignore one set of words, of advice, of quietly spoken truths that are laid out before us in black and white, and written just for us: the words we’ve written ourselves.

Because although the apparent purpose of your writing might be to produce material of value to other people, you might be surprised at how often you write something that has the greatest significance not for your readers but for yourself.

It’s like a quiet knock from your unconscious mind, a soft but insistent whisper: this is what you needed to say, to write, to remember. This is the message you needed to hear.

But how do you learn to tune into those words? It’s simple really. Set aside some time to re-read the things you’ve written. It doesn’t matter if that’s articles, blog posts, poems, journals… those soft sweet signals have probably written themselves into your work somewhere. And when you’re reading listen out for:

Words that surprise you with their impact: words you’ve maybe forgotten you’ve written and surprise you with a jolt at the wisdom, intuition or truthfulness they contain

Any physical reactions to what you’re reading: pay attention to signals like hairs going up on your skin, a shiver going down your spine, a prickle of tears at the back of your eyes. These are signals from your unconscious mind that something important is going on.

Powerful one liners: notice any phrases that are the sort you’d normally pull out and keep as a motivational quote… if someone else had written them (and why not you?)

Recurring themes, images, metaphors: your unconscious mind loves to work with metaphors and stories so any recurring themes might be significant. When you step back and review your writing what patterns, images or narrative emerges?

Recognition: that instant sense you get of something being important, significant, surprising and obvious at the same time. Something that seems to have been written just for you.

Re-reading things you’ve written can be a peaceful and rewarding way to spend an afternoon. Listening out for those quiet notes to the self. Tuning in to the power of your own words.

Photo Credit: Transmission Tower by woodleywonderworks on Flickr

The finest language is mostly made up of simple, unimposing words (George Eliot)

I am a major fan of plain, simple writing. Here are five good reasons why:

Simple words are universal: the simpler the words, the plainer the writing, the easier it is for other people to understand you. Simple writing helps us to communicate, to build bridges, to make connections across barriers of time, culture and language.

Simplicity saves time: we’re living in a time-poor world (the developed part of it anyway). Your readers are busy. You’re busy. Keeping it simple saves your reader time, and makes it easier and quicker for you to write.

You’re in good company: think about some of your favourite quotes, most inspirational speakers, books that you love… chances are they’ll bear the hallmarks of plain, simple powerful writing.

Simple writing is essential: simplicity helps you to focus on your point, to strip away the clutter so what really matters – the essence of your words, your thoughts, your feelings – shines through.

Simplicity breeds confidence: plain simple writing is a sign of confidence. You trust these plain simple words to convey your message and you don’t need to disguise it with the camouflage of jargon or use fancy phrases to buff it up.

It’s easier for your readers to follow and understand. If you’ve got a powerful positive story to tell, keep it simple and they’ll enjoy the benefits.

And last but not least, if you keep striving for simplicity in your writing you’ll love reading back what you’ve written. You’ll be astonished, over and again, by the power of the message and the punch of your words. You’ll be surprised, amazed and grateful for the plain simple truth of your writing, and the power of your own simple words.

PS I’ve chosen a picture of my own to illustrate this piece: the simplest of garden flowers. Plain, simple, revealing her glorious essence. Oh and yes, it’s a reminder from nature that there’s power and symmetry in five points…

But then theres’s those other times when writing’s like wading through treacle. When our words feel like they’re stuck in the mud – or set in concrete.

If you ever find yourself stuck in one of those times here are 5 things you can do to set your words free:

Write for one person: No matter if your readership’s going to be one, one thousand or one million, reducing your focus to just one reader can help free up your words. All those other people carry the weight of expectations with them: the baggage of “should”, “have to”, “must”. With just one person you can reduce your focus, and tell it the way that it is.

Get intimate: No I’m not talking racy details here, I mean getting intimate with your reader, and your words. Focus on that one person you’re writing for. Smile as you think of them. Pull your chair up a little closer. Shut out the world. Write for them, and them only, that story you’re itching to tell.

Write here, write now: Sometimes when the words get stuck it’s because we’ve stared too long at the big picture, thought too hard about abstract concepts of purpose or value. Forgotten what’s going on right here, right now, and how full of purpose and value those everyday details can be. So start there. Drop what you’re ‘trying’ to say. Focus back on the specifics, the detail of what’s here, now, and that one person you want to share it with.

Forget the big picture: Human beings love to look for patterns, meaning, the big picture of what we’re writing on, working on, living through. But patterns can easily become labels, and once we’ve labelled our work or our selves it’s easy to get stuck. We try too hard to live up to the labels, to create and re-create them, to maintain our authority and expertise. If your writing’s got pinned down with labels, let them go for a while. Reduce your focus, bring it back to the here and now, and tell it as it is.

Name it: write (privately) what you’re resisting. This idea comes from Natalie Goldberg: it’s as simple as naming what it is you don’t want to write about. Writing about your tiredeness, your boredom, your resistance to those dull old words, that same old same old, until guess what? Something new has broken free.

What are you favourite techniques for liberating words?

What’s helped you to break free when your writing’s got stuck?