Dear Writing friends,
How are you holding up?
I’ve been reading this week about the despair, rage, sorrow and helplessness that so many of us are feeling. Doing our work in the world can feel especially tough - perhaps even a bit pointless - at such a time.
What do we have to contribute? How can we help? Do our words even matter?
Last week, I suggested a few reasons why I believe that your writing matters now more than ever.
This week, I’d like to offer a few ways that we can support ourselves and one another, with tenderness and care, as we keep on putting words together. I chose the image for today’s writing spiral at the top of this post to remind myself that, with a little tenderness, beauty can bloom in even the most inhospitable places.
1. Go gently and with self-compassion - but how?
For most of us, gentleness and self-compassion are not habits that come naturally. Many people I’ve worked with over the years have asked: How do I do this? I honestly don’t know where to start? We are all too familiar with that inner critic, the bully that bashes us over the head or snarls insults. Perhaps we don’t even know what gentleness sounds like. To make matters worse, we worry that if we go easy on ourselves, we’ll end up in a wobbly mess, miss our deadline, never get the darn thing written.
The good news is that gentleness towards ourselves is something that we can learn. This is what the queen of self-compassion, Dr Kristin Neff, has to say:
‘It’s helpful to distinguish between harsh judgement and discriminating wisdom. Harsh judgement involves a narrow, rigid labelling of ourselves as “good” or “bad.” Discriminating wisdom identifies what’s working and what isn’t, what’s healthy or harmful, but does so in full knowledge of the complex, dynamic factors influencing the situation. We can still judge our performance or achievements as good or bad without taking things personally. Just because I failed in this last go-around doesn’t mean that I’m destined to fail again or that I am somehow “a failure.” By framing our experience in the larger context of what it means to be human, we gain the insight needed to learn and grow.’
Kristin Neff. (2021). Fierce Self-Compassion. p.196
My key learning point from this: Identify what’s working for you and what isn’t about your writing practice. Do this in the larger context of what it means to be human.
For gentle writing prompts, do take a look at #AcWriMoments - more details below.
2. Surround yourself with things that comfort, support or uplift you
I love what poet, memoirist and teacher
writes this week: ‘Sometimes a poem is the stone you carry in your pocket—the one you rub when you’re worried. Let’s fill our pockets with poems.’What poems or paragraphs or stories or pieces of music or films can fortify you in these times? Carry them in your pocket. Play them out loud. Learn them by heart. Write them out on postcards and send them to the people you care about. Pin them above your desk.
3. Breathe on the page
In February 1969, Clarice Lispector wrote:
I don’t even really know how to write. Writing is about knowing how to breathe within the sentence. And how to put some silence both in the lines and between the lines, so that the reader can breathe with me, unhurriedly, adapting to my rhythm as well as to theirs, in a sort of indispensible counterpoint.
Clarice Lispector, Too Much of Life, p.686
What if, rather than trying to write, we tried to breathe on the page in rhythm with our readers?
4. Rhythmic writing
If you’re new to my letters, you might like to experiment with a writing spiral like the one at the top of this page. I've written more about my spiral-writing practice here and here.
The idea is that you begin in the middle of the page and keep writing outwards, focusing on your breathing, just allowing your hand to keep moving. You can place anything in the centre of your page as a starting point: a word, an image, a special shell or pebble, a doodle.
A year ago, I adapted this process into a daily ‘thankfulness’ practice, which gave me comfort through difficult times. Gradually, my spirals began to open up into new shapes.
More recently still, I’ve been starting my spirals with ‘what if?’ questions and finding out what emerges. Today I began with: What if we tried tenderness? Maybe you'd like to begin today with this too.
Do you have any tips for writing (or living!) with tenderness towards yourself? What works for you? Please do share in the comments. I’d love to hear.
Announcing #AcWriMoments!
‘An alternative to the productivity-pushing writing challenge’ every day throughout November
Many regular readers here at Dear Writing will be familiar with the inspiring work of
, author, writing teacher and all-round force for good in the world. Helen and her brilliant co-conspirator have created a new project for the month of November, #AcWriMoments, a gentle, supportive take on #AcWriMo (which was originally conceived as an academic writing version of NaNoWriMo).Helen and Margy describe #AcWriMoments as ‘an alternative to the productivity-pushing writing challenge’ where word count is all. They write:
‘When you ask yourself gentler, more expansive questions, you can transform your experience of the writing process and feel empowered to create work that is truly your own.’
Here’s more from Helen and Margy about #AcWriMoments:
‘Each day throughout the month of November 2023, you’ll receive a fresh writing prompt ushering you into a sacred moment of communion with yourself and your scholarly work.
These 30 beautiful prompts have been created by writing coaches, editors, consultants, and scholars whose approaches honor the connection between your intellect and the whole human being that you are. In just a few minutes of reflection each day, you can discover new energy, insights, and encouragement for your scholarly work.’
I’m honoured to be contributing a writing ‘experiment’ to this wonderful project and I’m looking forward to joining in throughout November. Do come and join us too - whatever stage you might be at in your writing.
Next Writing Together live Zoom gathering - next week!
Thu 2 November 2023 at 7pm GMT ✨ ✨
Dear Writing Together is a very supportive space for paid subscribers in which we meet for an hour and write together in response to a writing experiment (my version of a prompt). I record these sessions for those who can’t make it but I don’t record our discussions, in order to honour confidentiality.
If you’d like to join us, all you need to do is subscribe for the month and try it out. We’d love to welcome you.
Next upcoming dates for Writing Together live on Zoom:
Thu 16 Nov at 7pm GMT (** Two dates in November, due to my illness last month.)
Sat 9 Dec at 5pm GMT
Be tender with yourself this week.
Sophie x
I love this. For me, the writing IS the tenderness. I’ve just realised that as I read your words, Sophie. It almost creates a protective shield where I can explore my thoughts, and where I can breathe and experience the rhythm of life. Thank you for this week’s letter. I’m looking forward to the writing prompts x
I love the blooming cactus at the centre of your spiral, Sophie. Thank you, as ever, for your calm and nourishing words. And thanks for the shout-out to #AcWriMoments -- it's going to be a lot of fun!