#5for5BrainDump – Page 3 – Creative Life Midwife

What Will You Do to Make a Positive Impact in Your World?

April 12, 2018 by jjscreativelifemidwife Leave a Comment

I just started the same sentence several different ways because the first few attempts just didn’t feel good, didn’t feel right, didn’t feel like me – so here I will say it again, this time like this:

I feel a deep satisfaction from being constructive, making an impact, showing up and being a light in my corner of the world. If I can say something or do something or share something and a light goes on for someone my heart reaches out and sings –

Today I was doing a livestream broadcast and it seemed like when I made important points the light from the window – the sunrays, shone down on my heart. It was like Divinity was saying “Yes, listen!” This is important, you will feel happy when you cultivate this!”

Trying again.

What will you do to make a positive impact in your part of the world today?

I type those words and wait, hoping some lightning bolt will rise through the ends of my fingers on the keyboard. I look out my window and I think, “There is something here I know it!” and the leaves dance in response. The wind says “You are here, Julie. You are HERE!” and I think…

That’s it. I am here. I am writing. I am showing up at the page, I am sharing with you. I am present.

I think about Emma whose class got cancelled, Emma who is in her room, quiet, and I think she wanted to run an errand and when I am done with this 5 minute writing spree I will ask her when she wants to go – because my positive difference is oftentimes with my children.

I think of Samuel’s carefully crafted birthday wish list, complete with arguments and possible rebuttals covered and all started with “Please stick within your budget, Mom” and “Since it is my birthday and you’re only buying for one person, maybe you can spend a little more than for Christmas.”

I laugh, what a kid, and am so grateful he knows he can ask for things.

I never wanted to and still feel anxious about asking sometimes.

What will I do to make a positive impact?

I am sharing here with you. Perhaps these words will touch you in some way, some way I don’t even have an idea about right now, perhaps you will write and tell me later. I would like that.

Please, comment or send me a note to tell me, “What will you do to make a positive impact in your part of the world today?”
When you respond, I suggest you go more deeply into what you will do, with a specific, absolutely non-generic response. I want to know the goods – the excellence within the goods.

What will you do to make a positive impact in your world today?

As you are writing, repeat the prompt.

I wonder for a moment why the timer hasn’t gone off yet?

Because I neglected to set it – and I suppose you were best served by repetition.

Let’s get those pencils moving, those fingers on the keyboard dancing. Share with me. What will you do to make a positive impact in your part of the world today?”

Use this question as a writing prompt, a meditation or a reflection question. Please be in touch and let me know how this prompt served you.

Julie Jordan Scott inspires people to experience artistic rebirth via her programs, playshops, books, performances and simply being herself out in the world. She is a writer, creative life coach, speaker, performance poet, Mommy-extraordinaire and mixed-media artist whose Writing Camps and Writing Playgrounds permanently transform people’s creative lives. Watch for the announcement of new programs coming in soon!

To contact Julie to schedule a Writing or Creative Life Coaching Session, call or text her at 661.444.2735.

Take Time to Reflect: Mindful Action = Amplified Results

April 9, 2018 by jjscreativelifemidwife Leave a Comment

I alternated this morning between angry, sad and anxious.

Hardly a productive combination of ways of being: more like a recipe for turbulence and possible destructive action – which tends to create more emotional carnage and rarely anything with an ongoing positive flavor, at least not in my life.

So far this morning I have cried and fretted. I have cleaned and sulked. I have edited some images and now, finally, I am writing,

I managed to have small moments of reflection primarily because I know reflection will (eventually) yield results though sometimes – in the process – reflection feels pretty lousy.

I wrote a micro-poem in a moment of anger this morning. I like it but I probably won’t rush out to post it all over social media because then my reflection turns into someone else’s pain. I don’t want to cause pain. Ever.

Reflect in short bites. If it feels lousy at first, let it feel lousy with one caveat: attempt to keep your lousy in your own realm.
Write, art or exercise out your reflections as a means of digesting whatever appears. Sometimes one, two or all three (and repeat) is necessary.
Add an element of forgiveness into your process. Like in #5for5BrainDump when we focus on gratitude at the end of our five minutes, focus on forgiveness of yourself and others when you are completing your reflective time. Punctuate with gratitude and intention as feels right.

Interesting to note: in simply writing these words (total time investment about 7 minutes) I feel better. I feel less cranky, less anxious, less fretful.

Week ahead: I am coming your way. We are going to be great together!

To contact Julie to schedule a Writing or Creative Life Coaching Session, call or text her at 661.444.2735.

A is for Ada: Literary Grannies from A to Z/2018 #atozchallenge

April 1, 2018 by jjscreativelifemidwife 4 Comments

Please welcome Ada Lovelace, the first purely STEM writer to grace the Literary Grannies canon.

Ironically she is the daughter of 19^th Century rockstar poet, Lord Byron, who she never met. She was entranced by the man whose portrait hung covered in her mother’s home, but her mother was so consumed with not wanting her daughter to be a fanciful poet, she hired tutors in mathematics in order to distract her daughter’s possibly poetic mind.

Ada instead created a fanciful flying machine, meticulously designed with her brilliant mathematical (and my best guess also lyrical mind).

Her mother worried needlessly about Ada, who teamed up with Charles Babbage who devised the plans for “The Analytical Machine” – a general purpose computer. Ada saw the applications for the Analytical machine could go much further than computation and she published the first algorithm and instructions for how to use it with more depth.

Ada is the first STEM writer to appear among Literary Grannies and the first since I stared CreativeLifeMidwife.com.

Her full name was Augusta Ada King-Noel, Countess of Lovelace. She was born December 12, 1815 and died November 27, 1852

Writing Prompt: Think back to what your mother hoped for you when you were a child? How does that differ from who you are now (or how is it the same)? Write about it – take 5 minutes and write, free flow style.

Julie has participated in the A to Z Blog Challenge for several years and is thrilled to be back, once again with Literary Grannies. Follow here throughout April for blog posts featuring women of literary history along with a daily writing prompt that reflects each featured writer.

Julie Jordan Scott is the Creative Life Midwife: a writing coach who specializes in inspiring artistic rebirth for those who may have forgotten the pure joy of the creative process. She offers individual creativity coaching as well as creating individualized programs for businesses and groups in the form of workshops, webinars and more. Contact her at 661.444.2735 for immediate assistance with facilitation, speaking or experiencing an enriched life now.

Stream of Consciousness Sunday: So Be It, Yes, Amen!

March 18, 2018 by jjscreativelifemidwife Leave a Comment

Stream of Consciousness Sunday used to be a normal part of my Sunday Morning. Various bloggers I knew started them up and off our words ran, five minutes at a time, and was actually a sort of conduit or foreshadowing for #5for5BrainDump. This morning as I prepare to start another week long adventure in #5for5 I decided to clear my head with some freewriting.

Here is what came from it letting my words loose without any forethought or edting. Just writing. No wrongs, simply words on the page, writing.

“Don’t spend time beating on a wall, hoping to transform it into a door. ”
Coco Chanel

I listen to fiddles and classic energetic celtic music.

Emma was frightened by the binaural beats music last night and I didn’t want to frighten her. I am writing in my corner, in my recliner, in a position I haven’t used for months. It feels good.

I sat to write about how to use my time most productively today.

I don’t want to waste it: time that is. Emma comes back and starts to do a contra dance, by herself, and I am glad she is happy, because when she isn’t happy I get plugged in and start feeling miserable, too. I thought of going to church but on this day – oddly enough – I want to stay home.

Katherine is preaching today, or more accurately did preach. She is seeking a position with a church 3,000 miles away from me. I wish I was closer. Her husband is most likely preaching in his church, separate from her and she is comfortable with this. I don’t know that I would be I so value the presence and applause from those closest to me.

(This is a weakness of mine – this chronic hunger for approval and something I have been working on in rewriting my narrative.)

Back to the question.

Time. Best use of. Not beating on walls thinking beating on a wall will make a door appear because it won’t unless it does. Like turning a wardrobe into a forest or a candlestick into a guy named Lumiere who lightens up the darkness.

Best use of time: focus on planning for the week and cleaning up messes still left from last week.

I see a man jog by my house, he is slightly off focus, looking at something in my neighbors yard.

I had two dreams early this morning that are slightly distracting me but not.

My five minutes are up.

Lumiere, lighten my wall banging and ask my dreams to settle in behind my conscious thoughts so I can simultaneously collaborate with them while I get my tasks ticked off my list.

Amen and amen. So be it and yes.

Julie Jordan Scott inspires people to experience artistic rebirth via her programs, playshops, books, performances and simply being herself out in the world. She created the process #5for5BrainDump that has birthed books, breakthroughs and many more livestream broadcasts. Participate in this process via livestream – to check the current schedule visit #5for5HQ

She is also a writer, creative life coach, speaker, performance poet, Mommy-extraordinaire and mixed media artist whose Writing Camps and Writing Playgrounds permanently transform people’s creative lives. Watch for the announcement of new programs coming in soon!

To contact Julie to schedule a Writing or Creative Life Coaching Session, call or text her at 661.444.2735.

Soften: A Word that Earths (And Opens the Heart to Transformation) #7MagicWords

March 17, 2018 by jjscreativelifemidwife 2 Comments

This word rose from my chest. I was compelled to find a quote because that is often a part of my process – perhaps it is the community builder I am, reaching into collaboration. I knew when the quote I first found was from Mary Oliver and it was about writers – that soften was indeed the word. And then my heart fluttered toward Flagstaff and the Frozen Labyrinth experience I had there several Christmases ago.

Enjoy – My Day 2 flow into the #7MagicWords challenge from Marisa Goudy :

“Writers sometimes give up what is most strange and wonderful about their writing – soften their roughest edges – to accommodate themselves toward a group response.”

Mary Oliver

What follows is free flow writing for 5 minutes… no corrections, no fixes, no forethought. It isn’t concerned with appearances… isn’t toughened up by the editorial eye. It is soft and getting softer as the insights open. I’m grateful you are here, reading.

= * = * =

I’m not sure if this was meant to be something… I don’t know if my family meant to have me believe. I don’t remember ever hearing this but…

I have believed for my whole life that it is wrong to be weird, that nerds or freaks or anyone “out there” was wrong and above all, I needed to avoid wrong or different.

This is sort of in direct opposition to the family member most revered and treasured (or so it felt) my brother John who had down’s syndrome – and ironically squared, as a child never spoke about his down’s syndrome.

Things would be talked about like institutionalizing him and people would stare when we came into a setting but none of that different-ness that so many others saw as wrong was ever spoken. The first time someone actually spoke to me about having a brother with down’s syndrome was when I was seventeen and a co-worker asked me what it was like having a brother “like that” and on a playground a child asked my daughter, “Why is your uncle such a freak?”

My daughter shrugged and kept playing. I smiled, thinking how great it was that she didn’t get upset.

I talked to her about it – to see how she translated what the other child said.

I am comfortable calling myself eccentric. I don’t like being called a freak, though. Freak connotes cast out. Eccentric softens the freak, even though “Fly your freak flag” is something people say –

I pull my hands from the keyboard and hold my chin and my face in them, trying to make some sense of the curvy direction these words are going, sort of labyrinthean like the image I chose to go with “a word that earths.”

With age, my skin feels more dough-like. Softer.

I do not need to be afraid of softening, being a freak, or getting older.

My writing is strange and wonderful in its Labyrinthean shape. Having a freak for a brother was a huge blessing in my life. He paved the way for me being a mommy to a child with autism and another child who has bi-polar disorder.

The primary difference between John’s different-ness and my children’s is we can see John’s. It was obvious. There wasn’t any hiding of it behind a “I’m just like every other person here” look.

John’s down syndrome softened his proclamation of different-ness. My babies and I look “normal” and surprise! We are not.

Rewriting the Narrative: We are much better than normal as was my brother. Strange, wonderful, freak, unconventional, eccentric, darling dear lovely soft… me.

Note to self: challenge of all challenges is to move this from words on the page into deeply rooted belief. PS We can do this!

I do not need to toughen up, another urge I was offered when I was young. I am choosing, electing, embracing etc my softness, my softening.

This is an exploration of self via free flowing personal narrative. I’m using the “5for5BrainDump” model which grants a person the gift of 5 minutes of timed writing to dump whatever comes onto the page without editing, forethought or judgment. What appears on the page and out of the rambling mind is remarkable.

These thoughts are posted unedited and will occasionally include an extra session or two to get to the depth the person feels necessary. Sometimes, the person (in many cases myself) backs away from the writing because… it is uncomfortable, she feels like something is about to crack open or she becomes bored and drifts away momentarily.

It is important to give license to stop and continue, stumble and continue, rant and scream and cry… and continue. This continuing is where the transformation happens.

To contact Julie to schedule a Writing or Creative Life Coaching Session, call or text her at 661.444.2735.

We Soon Forget and It Is Gone, Just Like That, Just in That.. What is the Word?

March 6, 2018 by jjscreativelifemidwife Leave a Comment

Sometimes the need to write something is so intense and I just need to throw words on the page.

I had a prompt for an instagram challenge – my instagram writing will appear here shortly because, quite frankly, it has crackeled and flowed this week all written in 5 minute chunks.

A prompt today was “Books and Magazines” so I looked up “books” in my flickr account and what I got – well, what I got was this image and what I wrote below will be molded into a poem like shorter piece especially for my Instagram Audience – to follow click here please. Would love to have you along…

Now – here goes a surprising twisty road trip of 5 minutes – this is so surreal in its free form, fact and fiction and out-of-body merge and meld…

Broken, put in a box for all these years

Months

Days

Hours

Moments

We soon forget and it is gone, just like that, just in that nick that cut that tear of a moment and the dirt sticks with more tenacity than the lightness of our once upon a time wish, the candle we blew out and never bothered relighting because…

Well, because.

You know the well, because as well if not better than I.

Don’t you?

Purple is my favorite color isn’t it?

And I discovered yet another broken mug in my kitchen sink this morning and I wondered again how I could still not value myself enough to have a dishwasher but after all these years I still don’t and I can still hear that long ago boss saying to me “What kind of a house did you buy that doesn’t have a dishwasher? And I was ashamed again that word, that foreign word I insist foreign but know more intimately than that man I fucked this morning who has no idea how much his humor hurts me, still vile as the bile creeps up my neck and I hold it back keep swallowing keep forgetting keep not looking not looking it isn’t good to look dumb shit you will regret it I guarantee it and I do. I do. I do regret it all.

I look back at the broken mess I poured into the beautiful glass bowl, so surprisingly heavy.

My gift for a performance I always thought was a dis not good enough oh yes the word is disappointment.

The word.

Disappointment

When will the damn timer go off.

Do I really need to write more of this?

The penultimate disappointment I stopped performing because of it, partially. I had to stop I didn’t couldn’t want to be.

Thank God, the timer.

This is an exploration of self via free flowing personal narrative: this specifically is sharing everyday, in the now. A sort of 5 minute meditation upon that day or the day before…. we’ll see how each day shapes up without insisting it conform to any particular shape beyond writing for 5 minutes… go. write. now.

I’m using the “5for5BrainDump” model which grants a person the gift of 5 minutes of timed writing to dump whatever comes onto the page without editing, forethought or judgment. What appears on the page and out of the rambling mind is remarkable.

It is important to give license to stop and continue, stumble and continue, rant and scream and cry… and continue. This continuing is where the transformation happens.

To contact Julie to schedule a Writing or Creative Life Coaching Session, call or text her at 661.444.2735.

Early Morning 5 Minute Meditation: A Friday in Early March

March 2, 2018 by jjscreativelifemidwife 1 Comment

It is a grey morning. I woke up due to the foreign sound of rain dripping from my roof. It doesn’t rain much here in Bakersfield and when it comes, I am delighted. My only hope is the First Friday festivities aren’t rained out. I love the gallery visits but what I most love is walking around, looking at what the courageous street artists are showing and collecting lots of hugs.

Tonight there is an event honoring an incredible young dancer and the invitation says “dress to impress” and “A photographer will be there.” That is enough of a call for me.

Last night I saw “Angels in America” Part 1. There is so much I don’t remember. I was such a different person last time I saw it. I was a theatre newbie back then and was in awe of everything, just in awe.

When we are in awe, sometimes that sense of “this is so cool” isn’t able to capture the nuances that I capture now: the set changes like a ballet, so every moment my eyes stayed fixed on the stage. The textured technical elements – gave the setting and the language more depth only subtle in a way it entered the awareness like a soft breeze does on a hot day: you feel it and notice it and you are grateful for it – it adds rather than detracts from the present.

My timer goes off and I have six minutes until I take Samuel to school. Today looks to be a steady stream of activity, but nothing nerve-unsettling. Peaceful productivity. A passion activator Friday sort of a day.

It is important to give license to stop and continue, stumble and continue, rant and scream and cry… and continue. This continuing is where the transformation happens.

To contact Julie to schedule a Writing or Creative Life Coaching Session, call or text her at 661.444.2735.

Free Yourself From Banishment: Express. Strengthen. Heal. Awaken.

February 28, 2018 by jjscreativelifemidwife 1 Comment

“Each time I express myself with writing, I get stronger. I heal more. I awaken to what is true.”

I wrote today’s affirmation, in cursive, on an art background book page and what I heard was, “look at how pretty those cursive r’s are. You made them. They’re lovely.”

This awareness negates one of my early outer critic stories that in the past has prevailed and kept me from writing. Miss Pizarro said, “You will never make your “R’s” right. What is wrong with you?”

Miss Pizarro, if she is still alive, would probably be very disturbed about the lack of cursive writing instruction in schools.

As for me, I love the feeling of writing in cursive, how it feels to create the loops – and I love that as I am growing in healing through my personal narrative writing, I am releasing these long-time curses – these long time periods of banishment.

Here’s what happens with the whole banishing scenario:

I am the one who has locked myself into my cell of separation. No one else did that. Other people may have said the words, they may have been the ones who ignited the hurt feelings AND it is I who walked through the door marked “Go away, worthless one” not them.

Some might say I am victim blaming myself.

Keep listening and hear me out, please.

Just as I am the one who locked myself out of the world and into banishment, I am the one who is now setting myself free. I am the one who is choosing an active trust and then actually taking the steps rather than talking about taking the steps.

I am the one who is putting the pieces in place like stepping one stepping stone to the next, one big boulder in the river after another. I am the one lifting my foot and propelling my weight forward. I may seek help and a hand and more than a moment or two of solo prayer or quiet and ultimately just like I was the one who locked myself in, I am the one who is setting myself free.

There are people who reflect my wonder back at me who are helpful beyond words: many of whom have been beside me – even at a distance – for close to twenty years.

I recall their words of affirmation and as I step out from banishment, I hear them even more clearly. I tune into the truth within the love in their commentary. Rather than Miss Pizarro with her, “You’ll never…. Be right. What’s wrong with you?” I hear “Julie’s work is better than (huge personal growth guru)” and “It is because of Julie I am a writer,” and “Your work changed my life.” And “It is because of who Julie is” and “Follow Julie, your future self will thank you.”

It is important to give license to stop and continue, stumble and continue, rant and scream and cry… and continue. This continuing is where the transformation happens.

To contact Julie to schedule a Writing or Creative Life Coaching Session, call or text her at 661.444.2735.

License to stop and continue, stumble and continue, rant and scream and cry: The Art of Loss

February 27, 2018 by jjscreativelifemidwife Leave a Comment

“Lose something every day. Accept the fluster

of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.

The art of losing isn’t hard to master.”

Elizabeth Bishop From the poem ONE ART. Click this link to read the entire text of the poem at the Poetry Foundation website.

I can feel annoyance rise up my spine at the thought of losing something every day. Perhaps this is why I have more clutter than I need. The thought of losing is painful, abhorrent even.

Why would I want to lose something every day?

I settle back into my breath and stop debating the poem itself.

This morning I lost some of my usually most valuable time: early in the day, most productive, flowing space of openness and I was busily searching for Instagram challenges for March as it is only days away.

I managed to pull myself out of the rabbit hole of interesting people and images but not before I allowed time that could have been used to make my present and future and (I’m lost now trying to find the just right word) frittered away the moments that might have been the best of my day.

That says it.

Did I lose my best in search of mediocre?

My hands reach off the keyboard as if I had set fire to it.

How dare I consider such a thing!

Why would I purposefully lose my best in search of mediocrity?

(If I was a biblical sort of person, shouting “Get behind me Satan!” would be appropriate here.)

I rub my hands together, a sort of stimming learned perhaps from my father or brother or from myself. My palms are dry and need lotion. My hair which dried naturally looks completely strange and my eyes… are doing the drowsy difficult to stay open routine.

The timer goes off and I think “Wow, that is five minutes I’m never getting back” but when I peruse what I wrote, I see value. And if I didn’t? I would see loss. So we’re all good. We’re all good.

It is important to give license to stop and continue, stumble and continue, rant and scream and cry… and continue. This continuing is where the transformation happens.

To contact Julie to schedule a Writing or Creative Life Coaching Session, call or text her at 661.444.2735.

Take Time to Allow Others the Space to Speak into the Silence

February 26, 2018 by jjscreativelifemidwife Leave a Comment

In yesterday’s writing, I mentioned almost off-handedly about a version of me who hides in the closet, praying she won’t be found.

I remind myself of my coaching clients who will wait until the very end of the session to say the most important thing, the whatever-it-was-that-needed-to-be-said-all-along important “thing.”

I imagine in their minds it is a gift (or perhaps a fire, a monster, a treasure, an enormous neon lightbulb, a map) between us only visible to them.

Maybe that is how I would be best in making friends with that little girl, hiding in the closet. Recognizing the gift sitting in between us> Perhaps I am meant to patiently sit with her as she gains comfort in being with me again.

Have I mentioned to you my background of working in mental health?

Years ago I spent five years working a Deputy Conservator: in some places the title for this is “Public Guardian” which set me apart from mental health clinicians – I didn’t have to abide by the same “stand apart” sort of guidelines I understood them to have.

I was as close to a family member an employee might be.

One of my favorite clients was a woman who had schizoaffective disorder. This is a combination of schizophrenia and bi-polar disorder. She wound up in the hospital after an episode where she refused to eat or drink because she believed her food and water were being poisoned.

She often spend most of her time in bed, isolated.

One day I went to visit her in the hospital and I simply lowered myself to the floor – butt on the cold linoleum floor, back against the wall. I said “I’m here with you, in case you want to talk.”

And I sat there on the floor, looking out the window across the room. There was no view – just bricks from the other part of the county hospital. It was quiet and peaceful. I had no expectations for the visit, I just thought she might isolate herself not because she had nothing to say but because she felt safe there. I wanted her to feel safe with me, so I joined her in her safe place and took a position of respect toward her safety.

Something in that “no questions, I’m just here stance” opened her up to me. She talked and talked and talked and talked and talked and talked and talked.

I found out more in that visit (and yes, I stayed seated on the cold linoleum floor for the entire conversation) than any of her clinical workers had I believe because I specifically didn’t ask questions.

I was just there with her, patiently waiting. I was able to advocate for her better after that because I had been patient and waited for her to speak and be heard. That silence spoke love to her.

My brother John never mastered language like other people. We spent hours together in silence and yet in that silence so much love was spoken. He inadvertently prepared me for silent love.

When we were the only two children at home while our older three siblings were at school we were together in companionable silence. At my parents fiftieth wedding anniversary party I sought his companionship when I got overwhelmed by the hub bub. We sat in companionable silence and then joined the others, together. As he was dying, I would visit him in his hospital room. He had a tracheotomy for nine months and was unable to speak with conventional language, yet we still spoke in silent love.

All this is to say, the little girl who has been hiding in the closet may have been waiting for me amidst the many episodes of my life to take the time to be quiet with her, to love her into being comfortable enough to speak.

To love HER into being comfortable enough to speak, I am actually loving MYSELF into being comfortable enough to speak.

It is important to give license to stop and continue, stumble and continue, rant and scream and cry… and continue. This continuing is where the transformation happens.

To contact Julie to schedule a Writing or Creative Life Coaching Session, call or text her at 661.444.2735.