Writing Lessons from the Rearview
I don’t know exactly how 2021 will be defined in the annals of human history, but I suspect that threats to democracy, wild weather events, and variants of COVID-19 will be the froth seen from a distance. Underneath will be our lives, the days and months spent preserving semblances of normalcy, reinventing ourselves with fresh, emerging priorities, experimenting with boundaries and new-found communities that kept us connected in a world that warns us to mask up and go easy on congregating. I’ve been reflecting on how that looked in my life as a writer.
My biggest vocational accomplishment this year came with the March publication of my memoir, Circling Toward Home. Releasing the story during COVID-induced restrictions kept me focused less on self-promotion and more on the commotion that still rattles around in my soul since releasing it. Despite feelings of doubt, second-guessing, fear, and downright agitation, I know that what I conjured came from a raw and tender place within and that the completion of the final manuscript gave me a firmer grasp on who I am, who I’ve been, and who I can be. The memoir was a vehicle to express my truth in literary terms, but the fuel came from years of sitting in circles with other writers and seeking the support of writing partners and coaches along the way.
Writing communities have never failed to remind me that to write is a radical act of self-care. In 2021, I met virtually each week, almost without fail, with my dear Sisters of the Pen. Our habit of being together through all kinds of weather, from the first blossoms of spring to the fog of winter, has reminded me that I am part of something bigger, that — as I learned when I was a child — where two or three are gathered, there Spirit dwells. I was uplifted by the poetry of our collective words and grounded by our honesty, at times brutal as hurricane force winds and at others gentle as the cooing of doves. We offered our words in distinct, unique ways as conduits for good. As gardeners and musicians and artists and daughters and citizens, we spoke up for equity and justice for all. As dreamers and schemers and travelers and philosophers and Giants fans and storytellers, we gathered online to write toward the light.
In addition, I joined Ann Randolph’s Unmute Yourself community in November. The live-stream sessions commenced each weekday morning for four weeks. I adapted to the routine of grounding through intention and meditation, receiving the writing prompt, moving into personal writing time for a good chunk of the hour, and reconvening with the other eighty or so writers for encouragement and advice from Ann. I listened as Ann conducted master classes once a week by delving into the writing of several participants and enjoyed interviews with two successful authors Laura Davis and Katherine E. Standefer. I posted my writing in our private forum and exchanged feedback with writers of varied age and experience from across the country. During Unmute Yourself, as in SOTP, I felt welcomed, acknowledged, and strengthened by the community and bolstered by Ann’s expert guidance and positive energy. I look back at the sheer volume of writing accomplished over those twenty days, and from the collected evidence reaffirmed my identity. I am a writer, and I am not alone!
I’m motivated to keep stretching and growing into my story with my writing circles, partners, and coaches by my side. As time unfolds in these next weeks and months, my intention is to keep watch for portals to truth and touchstones of delight and to share what I find.
In 2022, I’ll continue to post content to Medium on Thursdays. I invite you to join me!
