If you’ve been hesitant to write fiction or nonfiction because it might negatively portray a loved one, I urge you to examine your motivations. If you’re so angry you need to vent “on paper,” then vent your little heart out, but don’t publish what pours out. Write furiously, then set those pages on fire, literally. Doing so sends psychically transports the blame to the perpetrator—and sets you free.
If you’ve been stalled, or blocked, or wondering if your scribblings amount to more than a hill of beans—when the whole world is on fire—please let me be the one to tell you that they do. If you love writing, keep at it. What you produce doesn’t even matter. It’s the writing practice that will keep you sane.
This “novel virus” reaffirmed that my life won’t feel sufficiently meaningful again until I develop a renewed sense of purpose. Writing has always provided that for me, and I’d discarded my writing practice as if it were an empty, battered suitcase at the end of a journey. Hell, I’d thrown it over a cliff.
Mindfully Meditate, then Write Thanks to Coronavirus, our reptilian brains are scanning for danger and sensing it everywhere. The resultant, almost constant flight-or-fight responses likely cause muscle tension, headaches, upset stomachs, racing heartbeats, shallow breathing, and difficulty concentrating long enough to read, let alone write. We need to counteract anxiety by relaxing, but bingewatching and […]
Your reptilian brain is in overdrive, as are your flight or fight hormones, which make it a challenge for your cortex to function at its peak capacity.
Our brains are amazing thinking, dreaming, imagining, and producing machines, reliant upon their masters to program, nurture, guide, and direct them.
Here’s the simple truth: The very nature of the art of writing incorporates uncertainty, experimentation, and a willingness to create art from the depths of who we are. Writing is a mentally challenging occupation, which requires more hard-core, cognitive expenditure than many other lines of work.