Creative Life Midwife

Inspiring Artistic Rebirth

Happy Birthday, Emily Dickinson

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Emily Dickinson's birthday is today, December 10. Her portrait along with a poem of hers and an overlay of a leaf as she loved nature.

I imagine Emily would be annoyed by the fuss we all are making. Have you seen the guest list for her party today? I haven’t seen it, but considering it is being held on Zoom my guess is it will be bigger than ever.

My son, Samuel, is hula hooping on Emily Dickinson's lawn.
Samuel hooping on Emily’s lawn as Emma watches with approval.

One of the things I love most about Emily Dickinson is she lived life on her terms. People call her an eccentric, a hermit, some call her mentally ill.

I call her a person who knew what she wanted and wasn’t going to change because others thought she should. One of the most revered American Poet in history didn’t want fame, didn’t like people around much less crowds. She only published 10 poems while she was alive and frequently sent poems to her closest friends and correspondents.

Emily Dickinson knew how to wield power. She would appreciate Alice Walker, another American writer who lives life on her terms – when she said “The most common way people give up their power is thinking they don’t have any.”

My first visit to Emily Dickinson’s home

Emily motivates me not only because of her unique poetic voice, she motivates me because she gives me permission to live my life “my way.” To not agree to anyone else’s rules or expectations.

I have been up to my chin in fear and anxiety this week because I had forgotten Emily.  She even makes free writing and journaling easier. This video will show you how:

Today, it is her birthday, and my fear and anxiety are finding themselves washed with peace and presence.

Do any writers of the past or present motivate you? Tell us about them in the comments.

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To Do For Them (and) To Do For Me: Your Higher Self Agrees, You Are Important, too

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Woman is making a heart in the mirror, remembering SHE is important, too. Our higher self wants us to know this!

Early this morning I sat on my bed with my phone and a couple choices to make in my hand. Samuel got off work early. He texted me at 6:30 to ask if I could come pick him up.  Immediately I raced into high gear.

One Surprise Change Can Change Everything, Instantly

I shape my morning routines around his schedule. 

With my car headed North on the Freeway,  I noted my speed at getting out the door when my kid needed me versus when I am “only doing this for me.”

When the choice is on his behalf I’m quick, I’m focused, I’m energized and precise. “Hurry up, he is waiting! It is cold out there.”

When it is only for me, I’m sluggish, distracted sprinkled with a dash of apathetic. “As long as I have an hour for walking, its all ok.”

Haiku to the Rescue

I took a photo of an intersection for my morning haiku, a daily practice of mindfulness and creative practice. It wasn’t the most inspired imagery I have shot in the last three-hundred-plus consecutive days, but it told the story.

An intersection in Bakersfield, California inspired a haiku, one of 377 written by Julie JordanScott in 2019/2020

Haiku 307/377 — October 27, 2020

Sitting at the crossroads

dream mirrors reality

your new day is here

The intersection told me the choice of urgency for another person’s needs and sluggishness for my own isn’t cast in stone. The choice is up to me: my desires, my ambitions, my hopes are as significant as every other person on the planet – even my children and world leaders.

Now it is up to me to take this new awareness and practice it.

Remember to call upon your Higher Self for advice

After I dropped Samuel at home, I hesitated. I could just go inside, too,  and forget about the walk I had planned.  I wondered what my higher self would suggest before I made the best choice.

I took a walk on different than usual streets. I stayed out the same length of time – because walking is for my health and for raising my spirit, which is important for me in all the roles I play.

I’ve been a Mom for a long time so naturally I go on high gear when I think my child needs me no matter what their age is. It is time for ME to remember my value partially because I want to continue to be their Mommy for a long time to come.

Questions for Contemplation & Journaling

How well do you treat yourself in comparison to others?

What can you do to shift back into a more equitable approach?

+ = + = + = + = + =

Julie JordanScott lives in Bakersfield, California in a house too small for quarantine life. She leads discussions on Zoom and is polishing her most recent memoir and some poetry for soon-to-be publication. If you would like her to speak to your group over ZOOM until travel is available again, she would be happy to talk to you about that OR maybe you are looking for a slightly quirky, very open hearted, compassionate and tender Creative Life Coach. She would love to speak with you soon.

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How Your Next Embodied Moment will lead to a More Fulfilling Life

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How would your life change if you made the choice to open yourself fully to each moment as it happens?

Your first response might be “Don’t I do this right now?”

Maybe and maybe not.

Bombarded with distractions, all the time

We are constantly bombarded with distractions, most of which our mind filters automatically for us. Sometimes we are “playing with our kids” with our computer open and our phone in our hand and we are trying to get our partner’s attention. This isn’t very “in the moment.”

I know people who are distracted so much by a ticking clock they can’t focus on the conversation they are attempting to have with friends.

If you have that sort of sensitivity and you haven’t learned how to focus on the conversation, life becomes frustrating rather than fulfilling.

This goes beyond ticking clocks and flashing lights and startling smells that rise up and greet you as you are walking down your office hallways.

Your entire life experience will become better when you are 100% engaged in whatever you are doing at that moment. This is true no matter what you are doing: enjoying a concert, taking a walk, writing a blog post: the outcome is the same. Better results with better focus.

Embody the moment and rewards will follow.

Our experiences are better when we are fully immersed in whatever we are doing instead of sitting blankly scrolling on our phones, waiting for our boss to give us an inspiring assignment or checking the Netflix schedule praying something might capture our attention.

To experience full embodiment, we allow ourselves to be engaged with our senses as we are living that moment. Still not sure what I mean?

Here’s an example from my own life which could have been another boring everyday moment which instead, became not only sheer delight, it caused me to write a poem.

Ordinary coffee in an ordinary cup by an ordinary notebook or is it? When lifted to the lips and fully observed, embodiment occurs and a poem (or best seller) may be born.

Today I poured a usual cup of coffee into my favorite mug and sat down to drink it while I wrote social media content. Somewhere on the way from the coffee put to my seat here in the corner, I decided to make the experience one of embodiment: completely in touch with the tactile, sensory feelings within my body as I drank the coffee.

Coffee: Ordinary or Extraordinary?

Here is what happened when I allowed myself to be present to the experience of my lips and coffee.

I lower my head, as in prayer

Mug lifts to meet my lips, cold orange edge

rests on the soft yet firm shelf my lower lip offers

tongue meets lip from inside as coffee

pours forth, into my waiting mouth

slightly bitter warmth, pleasure for barely

a moment slides in and down and then

my throat opens and closes and satisfied,

my lips make way for the exhale, while

still heated slightly, while still cozy, while still

pleasantly plumped from the 

liquid invocation of a new day

no matter what arises my lips

and I know. Coffee comes to visit

and temporarily makes all things perfect.

Coffee, writing and poetry are beyond the ordinary.

Rarely does my own poetry make me laugh, but this one did.

Embodied writing can be playful, deeply moving and sacred. It can be all three. 

I may rework this poem but for now, I am sitting back admiring the moments I had drinking the coffee, taking notes while I drank, and now being brave and silly enough to share it with you here.

A Master Class in Embodiment and Your Richer Life, Right here

Last week I blogged about sharing ordinary moments as extraordinary. Today may be seen as the master’s course in the same subject.

Do me and your reading audience a favor: fully immerse yourself in any given ordinary moment. Take notes. And then write something from it, anything. I wrote a poem, you might write a sales letter. It doesn’t matter WHAT you write, it simply matters that you write this way.

FIND A SUPPORTIVE WRITING COMMUNITY in a Private FACEBOOK GROUP:

How would your writing productivity change if you received varied, niche driven writing prompts daily – also fiction, poetry, entrepreneur, copy writing and video prompts are offered, join the Private Word-Love Writing Community on Facebook by clicking here.

We look forward to writing with you!

Julie JordanScott lives in Bakersfield, California in a house too small for quarantine life. She leads discussions on Zoom and is polishing her most recent memoir and some poetry for soon-to-be publication. If you would like her to speak to your group over ZOOM until travel is available again, she would be happy to talk to you about that OR maybe you are looking for a slightly quirky, very open hearted, compassionate and tender Creative Life Coach. Text or call her at 661.444.2735 She would love to speak with you soon.

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Tenderness, Longing & a Vulnerable Confession

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“True tenderness is silent and can’t be mistaken for anything else.”

Anna Akhmatova

I didn’t know how much I was longing for tenderness until synchronicity knocked on my door because I gave myself an assignment. I couldn’t disappoint other people, I couldn’t hide this material that poured out of me.

But the confession part, must I share that, too?

Must I share the longing?

I remember slight flickers of longing: my mother’s hand on my forehead, a nurse in the hospital after a particularly trying episode, my friend, Linda, covering me with a blanket after I fell asleep on the sofa. Well, she thought I was asleep but I was awake and fully immersed in feeling her tenderness.

I remember toward the end of my brother’s life he had a stroke. I brought lotion to the hospital and gave him a massage so I could feel how death was encroaching on the left side of his body. I would not be able to explain what I felt in his skin, his muscle, his sinew as I touched it, tenderly.

With my children, especially when they were small, I was tender. I remember welcoming their tears, not silencing them. I felt and expressed tenderness to the women refugees I helped as they made their way back to their families. 

I wonder if some of the tenderness I express is my longing made into form through me?

I am discovering as I write. I imagine as I share this, raw and unfettered by editing and revision, a part of me will become angry for being so transparent and vulnerable, yet isn’t longing naturally clear and rough at the same time, slightly uncomfortable and on the verge of shattering experience?

Maybe it tenderness was an everyday experience, it wouldn’t feel as sacred nor would it feel as frightening.

Or perhaps, maybe, there will be a time when it becomes ordinary and I can report back to you about my findings, like a researcher on foreign soil noticing nuances unimaginable until witnessed, first hand in hushed quiet.

Maybe the first step is you, reflecting back to me your experience of tenderness as one who offers tenderness or one who offers tenderness. 

-@ – @ – @

100 Days of Wonderful Words: prompts for many genre, all written uniquely for each particular audience so the writer may use similar content, sculpted accordingly. Image is mixed media art materials and words.

This blog post was conceived from a Writing Prompt I wrote as a part of the 100 Days of Wonderful Words that may only be found at the Private Word-Love Writing Community on Facebook. Join us to be inspired by seemingly ordinary words through the end of 2020 in a writing place where we hold space for vulnerability and healing from past writing hurts.

Julie JordanScott lives in Bakersfield, California in a house too small for quarantine life. She leads discussions on Zoom and is polishing her most recent memoir and some poetry for soon-to-be publication. If you would like her to speak to your group over ZOOM until travel is available again, she would be happy to talk to you about that OR maybe you are looking for a slightly quirky, very open hearted, compassionate and tender Creative Life Coach. She would love to speak with you soon.

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What Writing Poetry Every Morning at Sunrise Taught Me

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Before the end of 2019, I created a goal uniquely mine with one goal: to “have something to do every day that would help me feel better.” I remembered the past, when I would write haiku and post them on facebook before the start of the workday, one friend of mine enjoyed reading them and I enjoyed writing them. The number 377 ties me to writing one haiku – a Japanese form of poetry noted for being short and to the point.

I knew if I made it a difficult goal, I might run the risk of not completing it. I gave myself space to fail AND I knew if I paid attention and made sure I had a guideline to write before a certain time of day, I would have a greater likelihood of success.

In early July I had the idea to do a “sub” goal or a micro-goal. I created a specific intention within the initial one. This time, I was going to write a haiku poem every day at sunrise for a month.

I didn’t expect the potent impact this simple practice had on my life, especially since I had already been writing daily haiku for more than six months, everyday. This new tweak to the goal definitely put the entire project onto a higher playing field.

  1. Micro-goals rock: Small, short-term and do-able goals build confidence and make the process of accomplishment even more fun.
  2. Having accountability via public proclamation is both slightly intimidating and brings about an extra zap of love, hope and optimism. I used my facebook page initially. Now I share on other social media platforms and text to specific friends. During the last week of the month, I also share daily gratitude lists and invite others to share their gratitude lists, too.

Haiku 192 – July 2, 2020

Sunrise at the Panorama Bluffs in Bakersfield, California.

trees hold a secret

golden laces weave their leaves

lone bunny watches

  1. Watching the first light of day is one of the most optimistic acts I can imagine during this particular point of our history. It is something I can trust.
  2. Falling in love with sunrise is akin to falling in love with life, falling in love with the place I live, and falling in love with the people who show up and engage with my posts.

July 14, 2020 Haiku 204/377

A mallard duck family swims in the canal off Brundage Lane in Bakersfield at Sunrise

Urban pastoral

Mallard mama quacks fiercely

distant palm stands tall

  1. Grace is a dear friend who embraces me, everytime
  2. Doing unconventional things will attract attention and odd conversations.
  3. Standing on a creative ledge is inspiring even if we are simply doing it for fun

Haiku 208/377 July 18, 2020

Loco Weed (moonblossoms) blooming at Sunrise beside the Calloway bridge in Southwest Bakersfield

poison loco weed

feels the magnetic charm’s call

time for you to sleep

  1. When there is no boss to create goals or tasks for you, you may become the best task master you ever imagined.
  2. My senses are improved because of daily attention and fine tuning.

Haiku 213/377 – July 23, 2020

A pumpjack (oil well) in North Bakersfield at sunrise.

silent old pump jack

sees another day begin

Skoal can on gravel

  1. When we are prone to documenting how terrible things are don’t get up and witness the sunrise every day.
  2. Witnessing sunrise is a potent non-chemical anti-depressant. Because I am well aware of the current news cycle in order to be an informed citizen, this sunrise haiku practice has kept me grounded and present as an optimistic realist.

Haiku 220/377 July 30, 2020 

Sunrise at an organic citrus farm off Edison Highway and Pepper Avenue outside of East Bakersfield.

Organic citrus

north of Edison Highway

proud palm trees stand guard

There are two days left for this micro-goal, even though July is almost over. After this, I will be writing seven days of Coffee Haiku, inspired by a friend I made on Instagram. After that, I may return to sunrise because it feels so good to be outside when it is still cool during a hot Bakersfield summer.

Which of these photos and haiku poems resonates with you most?

Woman writing on the front porch of a brick home,
Write wherever you find yourself.

Julie JordanScott, the Creative Life Midwife, is a writer, a poet performer, a Creativity Coach, A Social Media Whiz and a Mother of three. One of her greatest joys include loving people into their greatness they just aren’t quite able to realize yet. 

Julie is also one of the Founders of Bridge to the New Year. Join us now in mid-2020 in #Refresh2020 to reflect, connect, intend and taking passionate action to create a truly remarkable rest of 2020. 

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“I wake to listen” – How to Use Poetry to Meditate (Even if you don’t think you’re “good” at either)

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In May, we are blending poetry and meditation to create, make and activate a more mindful, art-rich life. Welcome to that experience.

May is National Meditation Month. Field of Lavender and purple reflect the poetic nature of meditation we are using here in May. Welcome back or welcome for the first time!

Many of you have said, “Meditation and poetry – I am not good at either. And you use writing as meditation? Forget it. I can’t”

Stick around for a couple days so we may wash out those thoughts. 

Here’s how this process goes for me – I invite you to try it this way and feel welcome to make modifications so it may work for you.

Whenever I read Plath, (link to the poem we meditated on today, Morning Song) I hear and feel a hush which may be why this line of her poem attracted me. This poem, “Morning Song” is about mothering a baby. Have you parented a baby?

I remember thinking when I had my son that I couldn’t have a boy. I didn’t know how to mother boys. It took me six weeks to actually agree this relationship as mom-to-boy would work and while it may still be rocky – he is an adolescent now – I know I wouldn’t trade the process for anything.

I invite you to think from your “beginner’s mind” place like I did as a new mom – with an open heart and without leaping inot judgment (like I find myself leaping more times than I would care to admit.) 

Many of you have said, “Meditation and poetry – I am not good at either. And you use writing as meditation? Forget it. I can’t”

Stick around for a couple days so we may wash out those thoughts. 

Here’s how this process goes for me – I invite you to try it this way and feel welcome to make modifications so it may work for you.

a lavender field at sunrise allows us to embrace and accept we may not be good at poetry or meditation now,. we may allow ourselves to come as a complete beginner to both. The sunrise is a metaphor for the new beginnings you may experience when you come from the beginners mindset.

1. First I read the poem to myself several times and choose one line or phrase as a centering line. On my live-streams I ask viewers to choose a line also and direct them to the Poetry Foundation website for the poems I read. All are published there and are easily accessible – which for some people makes it easier to choose a meaningful meditation line.

2. Deep breathe and sit quietly with the poem, sometimes briefly and sometimes – like this time, I meditated before sleep and  as I fell off to sleep. 

3. The next step has differed when I do it, but write for at least 5 minutes, free flow style, stream of consciousness. Sometimes before the live-streams though more often after. Sometimes I write the centering phrase over and over again. What I find it when I trust the process and breathe deeply as I write, other words begin to pop in – you may scoff at this and I invite you to try it.

4. Livestream first on Periscope, often a rougher version – but I enjoy picking up the twitter audience.I will share the livestream from Twitter so you may see it here as well.  I pin the poetry/meditation streams daily with a link to the poem and the graphic (whenever I create it), often afterwards. Livestream second on Instagram  live. Usually a smaller audience but often more engaged in the poem itself. 

5. Sometimes I post here, in my Creative Life Midwife blog – once I even created a second series based on what I wrote during my meditative writing and it blasted more helpful content. Whether or not I post elsewhere, I follow up with discovering the next poem. 

In this case I’ve planned ahead and will next read Kim Adonizzio.

If you have a favorite poem or poet you would like to suggest please do so in the comments. .

.

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The Perils of Being a Comma. Or a Dash, an ellipsis, a period.

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What Punctuation Mark are You? Using a line from poetry to step into a deeper level of self discovery through meditative writing and a photo of a woman, writing, on a deck between two mountains. Purple and green.

Once upon a time I had a friend I liked a lot. I told this friend, “I am nothing more to you than an ecru comma.”

What a perilous way to be, an off white comma, a brief stop on the way to something better.

There is nothing worse than to be a comma.

A comma personified.

Ten plus years later, at times I feel like I remain a comma. Is there such a color as faded ecru? Aged ecru? Stained, torn, battered and bleeding ecru?

Let me rephrase that: I do not see myself as anything like that ten-year-plus presumed comma. I have been stained, torn, and scarred. I have bled and I have healed. I have devoted myself to presence and passion and moving forward.

Commas haven’t committed. They aren’t first or last, they are a hesitation.

As I wrote that last sentence, a meadowlark sang after she took a nibble from the mulberry tree in my front yard. Fully committed, she sang in joy and praise. Can a comma be that precise?

A comma isn’t as firm as a dash – that says – wait.

Almost a period, but not quite enough and we stand there almost falling over a comma is steady and filled with air. I imagine it is easily popped.

"Commas on her face --- a breath, a word" is a line from the poem "My Darling Turns to Poetry at Night" by Anthony Lawrence. The image is of letters made of wood or plastic scattered on a board, haphazardly. It is in greyish-toned black and white.

I believe I chose this line “Of commas on her face— a breath, a word … “from the poem “My Darling Turns to Poetry at Night” by Anthony Lawrence, to meditate with today because I know what it is to be lost to poetry when others are around. I probably seem to separate myself into an otherworldly place at times when poetry – my own and others, scoops me up and takes me away.

As an apology for losing myself into whatever non-human experience I was passionate about, I let go of getting lost to those loves and devoted myself instead to human tasks and helps, forgetting that I was worthy of both passions and an assist and a collaborative effort from time to time.

Sometimes it is lovely to be a comma, even an ecru comma.

Now that I think about it, a peaceful smile looks something like a comma.  I will claim that, too.

Perhaps we, we humans, would be better off embracing our loves for what they turn to that isn’t us – as long as it isn’t a wall between us and them. I love poetry and theater and deep soul conversations and the occasional ridiculous television show and that doesn’t mean I want to separate myself from those I hold most dear or darling. Sometimes embracing the comma time as a place to meditate on love itself and on humanity herself would be a better choice than wall building.

In this musing I realize how much meditation is like a comma.

A breath, a word to center, a breath – more words… and then words disappear and there is breath… a comma.

A comma is a part of something bigger than herself. She is an important part of the overall story.

She is a bridge. She is a sign-post. She takes a stand for what she believes to be true.

I am proud to be a comma and more. I am proud to be a stained, shiny, torn, healed, scarred, fierce, frightened, passionately active, ecru and purple comma.

Julie JordanScott creates content to inspire creative people to lead more satisfying lives even during this pandemic. Walking and sitting at the Panorama Bluffs helps her feel centered.

Julie JordanScott has been writing since before she was literate by dictating her thoughts to her mother and then copying in thick crayons onto construction paper. She was a pioneer in epublishing and continues to reach readers through her blog, bestselling books, greeting cards and her essays and poems in anthologies. Join her for one of her upcoming #5for5BrainDump programs or an upcoming writing circle or writing for social media programs.

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How to Write About Your Life in 5 Easy, Meditative Steps –

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May is National Meditation Month: We will be blending poetry and meditation to create, make and activate a more mindful, art-filled life.

To read the complete poem on the Poetry Foundation Website, please visit here.

In May we are blending poetry & meditation to create, make and live a more mindful, art-filled life. I will be sharing my writings that blossom from the meditations as well as videos, images and other helpful tools for you along the way. Today, we are sharing free-flow meditative writing followed by 5 Steps to Making Peace through Witnessing Your Life with Writing – and in doing so, we circle back to where we started – with poetry and the words under the words.

Lavender blossoms surround the words "May is National Meditation Month" and here we are blending poetry and meditation to create, make and live a more mindful, art-filled life.

Yesterday afternoon during the #5for5BrainDump which may be used as a meditative writing practice, the words that flowed were these:

The words under my words are… optimistic most of the time. They are like the comic I saw today that my friend shared of the three views of the heart: the optimist a big red perfectly Hallmark heart, a dramatic broken heart to proclaim the pessimist and an image most like a human biological heart for the realist. I most often refer to my words as optimistic realism but they don’t feel like that right now, when I allow the space to roam about my chest and up and out my throat.

The words under my words are are battling for control. My words under my words are slightly scratchy, that annoying base of the throat tickle – feel like I might be getting sick but because I know what my nervous cough sound like, I recognize this. I recognize this. They feel like, might they be a virus? Are we still allowed to say that word except for as in “Novel” or “Corona” or “Covid”?

My words above, below and beneath my words at eye level feel crusty and stale, grumpy and stagnant. They’re old and scabbed and calcified. Tainted and negative and not good. Not good.

This morning, before I turn to another daily poem, I revisted yesterday’s words and add – The words under my words are just right as they are – crusty and stagnant and stinky are equally rich and valuable as the flowing and soft gentle breeze on a hill wearing a gorgeous white lace dress with perfect hair.

Today and my words in it will be – as I allow them to be.

It is when I don’t allow them to be and me to be and you to be and the emotions that pop to be that my shoulders become like earrings and my gut becomes a roller coaster.

I trust my words, today, and I trust the leaning tower of ancient historical words to be more of a cradle that gently rocks me than a car spiraling out of control on a roller coaster. The word-cradle is in my breath and my heartbeat, my pulse and my womb, my brokenness and my sometimes polished exterior.

No need to battle and pretend there is such a thing as control.

Your words – under your words – spend time holding them close, with love and grace. Hold space for joy amidst the not-so-joyful and the belly laughter amidst the tears of sadness.

Now: A simple 5 step process for you to witness your life in words – all of your life – from a meditative, mindful frame of mind.

Day 1: a vase of irises shares how the words under words will be made more peaceful when we make peace through witnessing "what is" , blending poetry and meditation to create, make and live a more mindful, art-filled life.

We write from a place of peace: we don’t judge the writing as it falls off the tip of our pens or fingers on the keyboard or fingers on our screens. We allow the words to fall as they will without editing, judgment or forethought.

We are witnesses, not judges. We hold space for ourselves to enjoy the process regardless of what story our words are telling.

Step One has the irises in a vase and advises us to use clear, descriptive, sense based words. These words may be colors, flavors and other objective details rather than words like "amazing" or "nice" or "pleasant".

Write what you experience, not what your opinion is about what you experience. Instead of “It was good” or “I think it is pretty” write “The bright purple irises fill the glass vase with the twine tied in a bow.” “There was a hint of vanilla in the chocolate chip cookies” or “He was over six feet tall, which made my five foot four inch frame feel tiny.” Yes, there is some opinion in that final sentence, but see how it is supported in fact?

There is a beautiful shade of green, slightly mottled with purple on the other side of the vase of irises. Step 2 is "Write in snapshots or moments in time rather than large periods of time all at once. When you write in snapshots you capture the core of your story, of the "what happened."

You can practice this by taking actual photos of your life as it happens or looking at a photo from the past and writing about what was happening when the photo was taken. Immerse yourself back in that moment of with rich, sensory details. Once you master this, your writing will become increasingly magnetic and at the same time, connect you to your readers more and more deeply no matter what you are writing.

At the center of all good writing is a daily (or close to daily) writing practice. One way to stay in the witness is to make a list of what happened the day before during your writing practice time. When we do so, our subconscious mind will begin cataloguing details and your writing choices will become richer.

People often resist the idea of writing practice. It sounds like too much or a chore or something inherently unpleasant or without a purpose. When one tries and sustains this, it becomes deeply pleasurable and life changing in the most positive direction one might suspect. Try it for a small amount of time at first and see how it works. Experiment with different times of day and different methods of “containment” – I write in notebooks and other times on my phone and with my computer keyboard. Allow yourself to try different means and methods.

Step 4 invites us to lovingly lower our expectations. Rejoice in the perfectly imperfect and live outside the judgment zone when we are witnesses to our life.

Recognize what you write will not be perfect – part of the practice is to welcome the imperfect, the grammatical mistakes and the misspellings. Sometimes these are the most valuable parts of the growth experience. Enjoy the process for the sake of the process. Document the facts, not what you think of the facts. Begin to appreciate the imperfections with as much love and joy as the “perfections.”

Final Step: Revisit your daily (or whenever close to daily) free flow, meditative style writing once a week to glean life patterns, creative patterns and celebrate your growing awareness of witness.

Revisiting your writing is a deep pleasure as well as a method to note your progress. I can return to notebooks years later and wonder who this person was – while delighting in her moment-by-moment delight and discovery. Sometimes I long for her presence or find I have wandered off course and the past-me from my writing notebooks reminds me. The witnessing me of the past reaches out to the witnessing me of the future.

This is miraculous, just like you are miraculous.

You may follow along here on the blog as well as via social media. There will be different daily versions on different social media platforms. I suggest starting here on the blog and on Instagram for Instagram Live and IGTV episodes. You may see Facebook Live for 5 for 5 Brain Dump sessions at Writing Camp with JJS which may be accessed here.

Woman writing on the front porch of a brick home,
Write wherever you find yourself.

Julie JordanScott has been writing since before she was literate by dictating her thoughts to her mother and then copying in thick crayons onto construction paper. She was a pioneer in epublishing and continues to reach readers through her blog, bestselling books, greeting cards and her essays and poems in anthologies. Join her for one of her upcoming #5for5BrainDump programs or an upcoming writing circle or writing for social media programs.

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What are You Looking Forward to in May?

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In a field of lavender, we begin our celebration of National Meditation Month. The banner states that claim and adds "blending poetry and meditation to create, make and live a more mindful, artfilled life."

I learned this morning May is National Meditation Month. Seeing how I had so much fun with April being National Poetry Month and March being Women’s History Month there must be something to woo my creative senses while at the same time connect me to something larger than me in the Virginia Woolf room pushing on letter keys to create some semblance of meaning during this strangely unfamiliar time we are living through right now.

In my world of no accidents, it makes perfect sense that May is for Meditation. My word of the month is Centering – that happened because I was reading a book about centering I had bought at a used book sale who knows when and the concept shouted “this is me!” and here I am, in the midst of being separate together with you and everyone else except my daughter.

Meditation and poetry is centering.

The planning me wonders, “How shall we optimize these wild synchronicities?”

The creative balanced with planning me says, “Well, naturally, you take poetry that you love by women which you are and you read a poem and allow the line that most centers you to be the focal point of wither a walking or sitting meditation every day in May!’

From Jane Huffman's poem comes the first line for meditation: "Like a pain, the truth is mine." It is from Ms. Huffman's poem. "The Rest" which you may find a link to in the article.

“Well, naturally” scoffs my “There must be a challenge facing me that I may gallantly solve!” or something like that and I realize I love this plan that for me sounds both a pure pleasure and a bit of stretch in daily commitment.

Tonight and until tomorrow I am focusing a line of poetry from “The Rest” by Jane Huffman, that goes like this: “Like a pain, the truth is mine.”

We will also be sharing videos like the one below, essays and poems and more written from the meditations and poetry.

The image is a picnic basket and the poem is a meditation itself - a villanelle written by Adrienne Su, who when hosting a party notices her guests were throwing away the "disposable" chop sticks she offered that were not, in her world, disposable at all.

Images will be posted daily on Instagram and on the Writing Camp with JJS Facebook page and in the Word-Love Poetry Community. Lots of support for you to grow and play and experience peace, calm as you create, make and life a more mindful, art-filled life in May.

That sounds like a heavenly way to spend May. Perhaps it does to you, too.

Tell me in the comments. How was your April? What do you look forward to in May?

Julie Jordan Scott sits on her porch drinking coffee from a Lowell Observatory mug

Julie JordanScott has been writing since before she was literate by dictating her thoughts to her mother and then copying in thick crayons onto construction paper. She was a pioneer in epublishing and continues to reach readers through her blog, best selling books, greeting cards and her essays and poems in anthologies. Join her for one of her upcoming #5for5BrainDump programs or an upcoming writing circle or writing for social media programs.

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How Will You Look Back at “Times Like These?”

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There are a lot of people who are writing poetry during National Poetry Month. This is something I do – and while I am not keeping up with producing a poem a day – it is more like a torrent of poems every few days – my reading of poetry is what is fueling me quite intensely as of late.

A tree listens in the image as does the quote from Adrienne Rich says, "Because in times like these to have you listen at all, it's necessary to talk about trees." Who is listening to you with sacred, heart opened ears?

In bringing you into my poetry sanctuary – in quarantine times especially I feel more than a bit vulnerable. Speaking that aloud first makes me feel slightly more open to share with you this unfurling process this week as you may choose to step into it, too, to gain an understanding of both yourself, your loved ones and your world.

So far this morning I livestreamed Adrienne Rich’s poem, “What Kind of Times are These” twice, on Instagram and Periscope. Each time I read this poem aloud more turns of phrase and meaning slowly or not-so-slowly rise up to greet me.

Now, it is time to consider how the words of Adrienne Rich and the prompts I am providing may rise up to greet you in your creativity, in your contemplation and in your conversations.

Consider:

Where is your sacred space to listen and to be heard?

Where is your sacred space to listen during this time of quarantine?

Who are the people who will listen to you from their own place of sacred listening?

You may contemplate these questions, discuss them with your friends or on the pages of your notebook or journal. You may also watch the replay of the livestream video on twitter:

Now, a writing prompt to take on your way, without concern for what poet Adrienne Rich had to say or not.

Consider and then reflectively write, free flowing style – to the prompt –

What kind of times are these? and/or

These are the times when…..

If you are not in the space to write, have a conversation with a friend or spend some time in contemplation.

In the future, these time will be a memory you will be asked to remember and talk about with others. These are the times you may still shape these next few weeks.

What will you do to shape these times with hope, light and inspiration?

Woman writing on the front porch of a brick home,
Write wherever you find yourself.

Julie JordanScott is the Creative Life Midwife. She inspires people to live their life as an artform and take action towards their best results. During the 2020 Pandemic she is also leading daily Virtual Coffee Dates, Facilitating Intentional Conversation so people will feel less isolated during this time of social and physical distancing. Join the conversation by registering for free by clicking this link.

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