Creative Life Midwife

Inspiring Artistic Rebirth

Once Upon a Time…. The Magical Writing Prompt + You

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All writing, all books, all movies – start with a letters, words and most of the time a single sentence.

“Once upon a time” was perhaps the favorite sentence of my childhood. Having my mother’s undivided attention while she read aloud to me was perhaps one of the singular greatest joys of my childhood.

Perhaps that is why I became a storyteller?

Once upon a time reminds me of a spell, a musical note that says “Listen, you will enjoy this (and I do, over and over again.)
It is also invaluable for those of us who are aiming to rewrite, reframe and recraft our narrative.

That sounds so simple – and yet, I know it isn’t always so – which is why I suggest we start with the less significant moments in time, the everyday experiences and learn to get to know those fully with words prior to diving into the deep end of our emotional narrative.

Let’s try that today: take any scene from the movie of your life and replay it, starting with the words, “Once upon a time” and then let the words flow.

If you would feel better narrowing down your writing choices, look at the last week and make a list of the things that happened in your life and start there.

In your mind’s eye, project that moment in time on your mind’s movie screen and narrate back what is happening as if you are telling it to someone who can not see.

Here’s what I wrote in a description of this prompt on Instagram:

Once upon a time there was a woman named Julie who enjoyed sitting in her recliner, writing for 5 short minutes at a time. Little did she know those five minutes a day would not only change her life, those five minutes a day would change many lives the world over.

(That made me laugh… a bit of levity always feels good.)

And now it is your turn:

All writing starts with words, a phrase and finally a sentence.

Take 5 minutes now and see where in your life you revisit first.

The image to the right could be a moment in time about going to the movies, being at the movies, it might be about being IN the movies. It might be about an academy awards party (that’s where we were) it might be about wining a prize (Emma’s hand is actually in the prize box.)

My writing might begin: “Once upon a time I tried, once again, to make sure Emma enjoyed herself at a time I wish I could have been some place else. Isn’t that an important part of motherhood?”

Or it might begin, “Once upon a time, I walked through the doors of a movie theater and had the experience of seeing myself projected on the screen, larger than life, and praying not so secretly I hoped no one made a fuss but hoping truly that people would make a fuss.”

To practice, start with last week or even this morning, like the section above when I was in my recliner writing. A week later, I am once again in my recliner writing. 

Timer set for five minutes? Start writing, now.

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.

 

 

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What Message are You Sending the World? Think Authentically Before Responding:

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What message are you sending the world?

You may think, for example, you are sending a message of love and abundance  but your self-talk is filled with messages of fear and scarcity. Don’t messages or “watch out!” energy may permeate you while you may say “Love is everywhere” your subconscious is hearing “watch out for danger lurking everywhere, all the time.”

I say this because I have done it for so long I didn’t even notice it.

I’ll be telling a story this week on Periscope about an experience I had eleven years ago that was always important and yet I haven’t told much – and it wasn’t until this weekend I realized how much it has impacted my life.

The thing is – this story has transformative power and unfortunately I have morphed that power into fear and scarcity. I have taken heavenly energy and sheathed it into destructive energy rather than constructive flow.

Now I could keep digging my hole by scolding myself in weakness AND once again, that is clearly not the message my heart desires I send the world.

I am a stand for love and hope and peace. I am a soul opener, giving fellow humans the space to be authentically true to who they are no matter how eccentric and quirky and straight-laced and totally ordinary and polka-dotted and denim all of what you are is phenomenal.

The world is waiting for all of your words: the stories of your screw ups as well as your triumphs because truly – the path from the screw up to the… whatever is… connects us deeply with our fellow travelers.

Speaking of which – my writing time is up for now as I need to go fetch my child at school.

I ask you again – what message are you really truly sending the world?

Let’s shift your intention to send the message your heart desires you send now.

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.

 

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B is for Bella Bella Akhmadulina: Literary Grannies from A-Z/2018 #atozchallenge

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One of my favorite aspects of doing this challenge is I encounter new writers. Bella Akhmadulina was a Russian poet, essayist and translator I didn’t know until I wanted to find a new granny to represent for the letter B.

Those of you who are writers and poets, what would it be like to perform in front of a packed arena, as if you were a rock star or super bowl athlete?

That’s what happened for Bella Akhmadulina! She was well loved, defended the dissidents and in doing so, was not published much. She was among the top 4 poets of the time in Russia – and the only woman in the group.

She was one of 40 writers who banded together in 1993 a group of writers to stand up against then President Boris Yeltsin.

I want to get to know Bella Akhmadulina better. I hope you do, too.

Writing Prompt: Imagine yourself a Writing (or whatever your passion may be) Rock Star. What would you say to the crowd gathered to watch you do your thing? Take 5 minutes to write – and just let your words flow without forethought or editing.

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 no

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

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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.

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

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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.

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.

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

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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.

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.

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.

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

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“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.”

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.

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.

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

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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.

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.

 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.

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Let’s Make Friends: Allow Your Inner Committee to Work With You, Not Against You

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One of my weaknesses in past explorations of narrative is that I would have insights and discoveries and I wouldn’t return to them.

Now I am returning to them (close to) daily. I start with reading the most recent entry, take a sentence, and continue with it.

I know it challenges people to think their Inner Critic wants them to succeed or what is perceived as their ‘negative side” wants them to do well and yet – when we choose that as truth, more transformation magic happens.

Read on – to see how you may befriend Your Inner Committee: written #5for5BrainDump style. The opening line comes from my last writing here. 

Every part of you wants you to succeed and many of us here, on the outside, do, too.

The show was called Herman’s head, or in my memory that is what it was called. The lead character was named Herman and the supporting cast members were primarily different parts of his thinking practice or process.

Now that I think of it, this is also sort of like the fairly recent animated movie, “Inside/Out.”

Anyway, while we may have different names for the parts of our inside – different characters, different ideas, different thoughts and opinions, I know each of us has some sort of committee where the players seem to move us forward differently.

I have Little Miss Nicey Nice for example who is overly nice. And was how I thought I was supposed to be in every circumstance in every moment of my life.

I am pleasant and kind and thoughtful regularly and she springs from Little Miss Nicey Nice, but she is a lot more sincere and a lot less like Eddie Haskell, the Girl Version.

I also have an inner critic who is like Miss Pizarro, one of my third grade teachers who was particularly awful she used the phrase “You will never…” and it seered into my mind and for whatever reason I believed her. My sin against humanity that I would never… improve upon was that nasty inability to make a cursive letter “R” up to her level of satisfaction. (I will call her Miss Bizarro).

I also have a little me who hides in the closet and prays the object provoking my fear will pass and won’t notice me. I can tell from the tears in my eyes as I write of her, this is still fresh and I haven’t dealt with her as much as Miss Nicey Nice and Miss Bizarro.

She wants to be heard, So this week, I will make space to hear her.

I can do that in five minutes increments.

I’ve gone over my 5 minutes this morning.

My hands sit on my lap, in silence, which is sometimes a point of surrender and sometimes a point of hiding.

I didn’t expect to bump into a point of personal development or growth, this was supposed to be for you, my reader, to explore the characters that sculpt your narrative.

I’m going to get up from my desk and wash dishes.

I will write more of this later. Please hold me to it and I will hold you to sharing about your committee in short, yes you can do it, five minute chunks.

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.

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Overnight Discoveries: from Choking on Fear to Long Awaited Insights. Yes, Easy Does It

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It had gone unnoticed.

It has probably been there for several days, this actual glob (for lack of a better term) of not wanting to give voice to anything for the past few days, since the nightmares started. Three nights in a row of troublesome dreams that don’t seem to want to let go.

Processing in the morning with Pegi, my long-time, ever patient friend during the unexpectedly eye opening app known as Snap Chat.

I heard it while I had a teddy bear face, I believe, and a squeaky voice. A slight almost unconscious clearing of my throat. A choking back, a holding on of something or nothing or I don’t know I just know it was there and while I am working through the depth of this

It is at that point where I think I will just go back to where and what I was no matter how badly it sucked maybe feeling better isn’t worth feeling the choking sensation I felt.

My deep awareness of choking came not from a past life, but from a question asked by my therapist and I believe a memory – a place I visited when I went to Katherine’s wedding. A space where I almost choked to death as a child on a gum ball.

The exact space where my mother worked diligently to save my life was now the entry way to a Starbucks, the Grand Union now long gone.

 

i sit with my hands folded, waiting, tired, the tired not being real but being a block – a not wanting to go here and the choking in my throat my shadow side – whatever name you want to put on it that the strong intentional me knows is a barricade over the door marked “Transformation! This way to feeling so much better! This cloggy thing is temporary like how you have learned to use a plunger to get rid of blocks in drains when you used to helplessly call someone because you couldn’t do it and now you can!”

I realize then I never set my timer. Naturally. This was supposed to be a five minute writing in a carefully created container so I would be able to stop without falling apart.

(I set this writing aside and came back to it the next morning.)

7:15 am the next day. That choking sensation is a reminder from my most animal self, “This is what it feels like when you were dying. Beware. You don’t want to come close to death again.”

So no matter how irrational my adult brain is, no matter what I know as a smart, in step, working consistently on self-growth version of me, this protective animal brain pops in and chokes me to remind me, “You came close once, don’t risk it again.”

The thing is, when I don’t risk – when I don’t confront my darkness and bring it into the light so I may come to know it in a way that stirs and builds and constructs and translates and somehow makes good – I risk even more.

When I sit on the edge of choking, I live in fear of it.

When I instead say to my visceral animal self, “I know this is scary and I know we can and will survive and it will be so much more dynamic than we could ever imagine just please trust  and  be invigorated and become whole with me again so that we may have the impact we were meant to have all along…”

This is how the process of re-orientation begins. This is when we may get back into step with all aspects of ourselves – the afraid choking side of ourself who longs for reassurance and the bold, brash one who speaks without thinking and sometimes destroys bridges before you’ve crossed them.

I remember my acting teacher coaching me, when I was literally petrified in my performance. I felt outclassed and stupid in my first musical and he said, “What are you so afraid of? Every person here wants you to succeed.”

Every part of you wants you to succeed and many of us here, on the outside, do, too.

I rest my hands off the keyboard again. Another writing time of five minutes (plus a few extra) and I went from choking and being afraid and not wanting to go further to having an enormous, long needed insight.

by the way, if you wondered what happened with the bad dreams: I didn’t have any nightmares last night. I dreamed of sharing a meal around a table with friends. I dreamed about having a positive experience at Samuel’s school. I dreamed of talking to a friend I’ve been missing lately. I dreamed of expanding the circle because what we originally thought was just right was too small.

I dreamed I wasn’t afraid and I didn’t have to choke.

I can write, reflect and meditate. Wake up and write again and feel better.

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.

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