Time to Fill the Well: Brief Whine, New Book Tiny Preview

photo: Laura Musikanski

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This is pretty much what it comes down to some days. Start with a new document, a new blank document (They had to put that in there) and hit Choose (and that.)

Shit. All I want to do is eat and then go to the movies. Maybe I’ve been pushing myself too hard. This blog post a week plus videos on weekends, plus launching a mastermind, plus, plus, plus is hard work, day after day. Basically, I don’t have a life. All the things I tell other people to do and what I purport to write about? The tide’s gone out on all that, and all I’m doing is working.

It must be time to fill the creative well.

It is a full moon, after all, and an eclipse. Whoa. Okay, now it’s starting to make sense. Well, I’ll tell you what, my go-to astrologer says eclipses have the effect of pulling back the veil on something and revealing something else. So, in that spirit, I give you an excerpt from the new book, which remains un-named. Like the name of G_d, except for a less awesome reason.

The book is a collection of things to do and ways to be, with writing activities and other soulful assignments that I found helped me uncover joy, right there in my very own life, without changing any of the circumstances.

This is from a chapter called Write Poetry.

“Your first objection: But nothing happened today! It’s boring. What did I do?

I’ll give you that. Two answers: One, write it anyway. And two, give yourself some new, vivid experiences.

Last night at 10:30 my partner happened to see a Facebook message from a friend, saying she was out of kerosene for her heater. My partner began pacing. This means she is thinking of doing something. She knew there was a gas station open all night that sells kerosene.

“But it means going all the way out to her place, picking up her containers, driving all the way over to get the kerosene, then back out to her place.”

“I’ll go with you!” I said.

“Really?”

Yes. I needed to. I’d been on my butt all day writing and doing web stuff. My head felt like little electrodes and cotton balls stuffed into a tired pumpkin needing sleep. But I wasn’t sleepy.

We bundled up and drove out into the night together in the pick-up. Our friend’s three little dogs came barking and twirling out her front door to greet us. The full moon shone in her yard like a hazy, white spotlight. She asked us to buy her some water, too. We picked up her containers and drove back to town, thinking and talking about no heat, no running water.

At the gas station a car pulled in blaring rap music. The guys who got out weren’t wearing coats. It was 17 degrees out. They had New York plates. After them came two locals on a cigarette run. We got out a screwdriver and pliers and pulled the safety rings off the kerosene jugs, so our friend could open them with her crazy, zigzagged arthritic fingers. We filled them and strapped them into the back of the truck with a bungee.

We stopped back home and filled four gallon jugs with water. The cats had already settled in for the night. We drove back out to our friend’s place, checking out the new business in town, wondering about the five-car “traffic” on Route 11 going the other way, marveling at the moon. Our truck was warmer than our friend’s little house.

We got home an hour and a half later, ready for bed. Today the sun is shining, but the dark streets and night life on our foray live inside me, keeping me grounded in my place in all of it, feeding me images, feelings and moods I can add to my palette.

I’ll say it again: Feed yourself new, vivid experiences. This is a trick one. How will you know if it’s going to be vivid? You won’t, until you do it. And it won’t be, unless you’re paying attention. Any experience can be new and vivid, but it really helps us pay attention when it’s a novel one.

This is one of the reasons we take vacations. Our minds and bodies love a change of pace. This strategy is about changing things up regularly, way before you’re flattened with monotony and definitely more than once a year. Similarly, if you normally flit and have tons of new experiences on a regular basis, give yourself some time to sift through those experiences.

Just writing a list of impressions and random memories can be a great way to see everything you’ve taken in in a new way.”

So there you have it. Go fill your creative well. Give yourself some new, vivid experiences. Doesn’t that sound yummy right about now? Oh, and Happy Spring, Happy Full Moon, Happy Eclipse, and Happy creating!

photo: Laura Musikanski

With Love,

PhyllisSig

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