I’ve been mentioning flowers in almost every blog this year, not just in the Windows section but in the opening paragraphs. Bits of color holding my attention, lightening my mood, and lifting my energy. June is no different—purple and white lupine, wild daisies, yellow buttercup. June has been alternating between sunny summery weather and dark gray rainy days. Tee shirt or shirt, fleece, and vest. Flip flops or wool socks and boots. But this is not a surprise; this is the nature of June in the Pacific Northwest.
Last month I wrote about a health issue, AFib, which took me by surprise. After having a sleep study confirm I have a moderate case of sleep apnea, the beginning of this month I started using a CPAP machine, and for the last seventeen days I’ve had no episodes of AFib. Seems a bit too easy. Well it’s not that easy—I’m still getting used to wearing the lovely nasal mask which can disrupt my sleep while also helping me sleep better. The no-AFib episodes is a big motivator to keep at it.
Work: Among writers, Vivian Gornick’s The Situation and The Story is a well-known craft book. In my Armenian family book, the situation is clear: my Armenian grandmother and her two sisters survived the Armenian Genocide and rarely spoke of it. Why were they not marched into the desert with the rest of the Armenians in their village? How did they live during the remainder of the genocide, during the aftermath of WWI, and establishment of the Republic of Turkey?
The story makes meaning of the situation. Right now the story in my manuscript is in a bit of a muddle. Is it my relationship with my grandmother? My need to know, wrapped up in my own identity? The role silence has played in my life? Why the past matters? Does the past matter? A few of these or something else entirely? I have to remind myself to trust the process, to keep writing because that’s how story makes itself known. Time and time again I’ve huddled over my keyboard in the gloom and kept writing and sure enough the clouds parted, the sun shone, even if only for an afternoon, even if only for a glimmer of the story to shine through. Collect enough glimmers and you have yourself a day full of sunshine, a book full of story. (h/t Pam Houston for the concept of glimmers)
Wonder: If only I had more time to write, all writers everywhere have moaned. While time is essential, in and of itself time is not enough. Late in my writing life, I’ve discovered the wonder and the revelation of the following truth, and a greater understanding of my struggles to write.
“Writing is not a matter of time, but a matter of space. If you don’t keep space in your head for writing, you won’t write even if you have the time.” – Katerina Stoykova-Klemer (h/t Dinty W Moore)
Does this resonate with you? How can we keep space in our heads for our creative work?
Windows: June has now brought what we’ve been longing to see: fawns. We have a single and one set of twins, as best we can tell. The fawns are more skittish than curious right now. That will change. But I did manage to get a few pictures.
Time is my issue. I see my mom going strong at 95, and I think Wow, if I take after my mom, and if I get my writing act together, I could write at least 20 more books. Then I look at where my time goes—who gets chunks of it besides me—and I say, Lord, help me write 3 more books. They’re in my head already, if only I could find the time.
Wish I could conjure the time for you—I want to read your books!
I love to blame time, but huh, it’s about space? As always, Einstein had it figured out! Better culprit than guilt, right, Linda (looking in mirror ).
Thanks for reading! Time deserves its share of the blame.
Thought-provoking and lovely. When I have time I’m not always in the head-space to write. That’s the habit I need to cultivate…mindset is maybe linked to schedule as Linda suggests. Love the fawn pics.
Thank you, Victoria. A schedule or routine does help with the muscle memory of “And now we write.”
For me, the nudge to write is provided by guilt so I try to get at it early in the morning. I always have to fight between guilt 1 (writing) and guilt 2 (exercise). I think that means that writing has taken up permanent brain space.
Morning is such a good time to do many things, which then sets up conflicts among those things! I agree that writing has a permanent home with you.