Coming and going – MightyWrite

I’ve been looking for a topic for my sometimes weekly Substack post and blog. I’m often inspired by (and grateful for!) the prompts posted by Bernadette Jiwa founder of the Story Republic (SR), an international writing group I joined a year or so ago.

This week’s prompt once again gave me something to think – and write – about. Bernadette has been at a writing retreat over the past week, where the writers come together over a “home-cooked” meal to discuss their daily progress. She writes: “As we’ve gathered over dinner after a day of writing, I’ve been thinking of you [Story Republic community] and how the support of like-hearted humans is kindling for our creativity. What a gift it is to accompany each other on the journey.” This gave her the idea for the prompt, which she sends out to SR members every Sunday.

Coming and going.

As a writing community, we come and go in many ways, so this prompt was especially appealing. Maybe even more so because of some choices I’ve made recently to try and be more present. As an elder caregiver with many other responsibilities, I’m frankly a little undone with all the “comings” and “goings” of life.

In the SR community, I often find space to simply be still in my writing practice. This is especially soothing when I feel like I can’t handle another responsibility or demand on my time.

Right now, in fact, I’m comfortably settled on the sunny deck of my cabin turned house, focused on just this one thing: Writing to a prompt in the virtual company of my SR family for our weekly drafting session.

I often come to this place to try and create something beautiful and memorable through my writing. I’m not going anywhere in this moment.

That’s just one of the things I’ve learned in the company of the SR writers, which is much more than just a writing group.

Having safe place to land has brought me to many realizations about what I want as a writer and a human.

Here’s what I’ve “come” to see:

I need to be in the present more and less focused and distracted by outside people and events – few, over which, I have any control.

I now see that I am a relentless micromanager and the constant need to lead is exhausting. I can serve others and myself better by focusing on the “heart work” in the wings and not always at the helm of the ship.

I truly adore the quiet solitude of my morning routine – a cup of coffee on the deck, 45 minutes or so of stretching and perhaps a slow paddle through my weedy bay. A look over my shoulder might reveal an outcrop of water lilies beckoning me to pluck one or two. I did this today, and found tears pooling in my eyes at the beauty of it all.

In this solitude and stillness, I can listen to the world awakening around me. At this very moment the persistent trumpet of a family of geese echoes over the calm water. This is punctuated by the steady, low drone of a humming bird, fluttering above a pot of glorious begonias and pansies, just at my elbow. I can hear the rustling of the leaves in the dense forest that surrounds me.

These rapturous sounds come to me clearly now and not through a hazy funnel as they did for so many years. I admitted I needed help and got it. I gratefully turn up my hearing aids, just a notch, to relish all of this even more.

Where am I going with all of this?

At this moment, nowhere actually. Funny… my mind that is usually racing ahead in every moment accomplishing nothing, feels quiet, calm and vividly alert. This, I’ve learned, is what time in nature – and with myself – usually brings.

I’m going to hold firm to a promise I made to myself recently to let go of some things that aren’t serving me anymore so I can stay in moments like this. It’s astounding really, when you make what feels like selfish choices, how much more energy emerges to do better for yourself and those closest to you.

I am no longer going to bear the weight of things that are not mine to carry.

I’m going to take some of the time I’ve cleared in my life to pursue my own passions–things I haven’t ever saved the energy or given myself permission – or time – to pursue. I can see the way more clearly now.

In the calm of these decisions and what appears to be a vastly open calendar, I’m going places I never thought possible.

This post is essentially the anti-thesis to coming and going.

It’s really about staying.

Staying true to oneself and everything we want our lives to be.

Right here. Right now.