no 21

Have you accidentally looked into the sun or bright light, and then looked away, the image burned into your eyelids? That’s an afterimage.

Here's what I saw, heard, or sensed that has stayed with me in the past week. Let’s begin.

​

---

Reading: The Artist’s Way

When I moved to the countryside two years ago, I wanted a change of scenery and needed a change in how I see, approach, and experience things.

Julia Cameron's book, The Artist's Way had been on my radar (and shelf) for some time. A couple of months before the move I'd heard showrunner Brian Koppelman speak about Morning Pages on one of my favorite podcasts. He talked about the writing process, pursuing creativity, and offered some life advice. I'd been waiting for the right time to start the book. It was time.

I worked through the exercises and writing prompts. I liked the idea of Morning Pages, the practice of writing nonstop, my pen gliding on the smooth page of my notebook. Each morning, I would fill three pages. I hadn’t been able to fill so many pages when it was just me trying to journal every morning.

Some days, I’d write five lines of “I don’t know what to write. I don’t know what to write, as writers are encouraged to do in the book. I don’t know what to write.” The writing experience is often described as waiting for the bad water to flush through the pipes before running clear. The first few lines in the morning tend to feel rusty at first. Then, it picks up and the writing somehow appears.

I've been writing in the morning since.

​

​

Overheard: Sanity

So too, does our capacity for delight (or any experience beyond survival); it lies in sanity and paying attention! If the quality of a life springs from paying attention, that’s enough motivation for me to continue noticing.

It brought me back to why I keep the practice of Afterimage; recording and sharing what I saw, heard or sensed that's stayed with me in the past week.

It’s the practice of paying attention, alone and together and bringing it forth into the present.

​
​

What I Understood: Flight School

My daughter and I are celebrating two years of calling our little house with the cherry trees our home. The trees in our yard are indeed the beloved sakura synonymous with Japan; only ours bear fruit. We have bags full of them in our freezer, waiting to be made into crepe fillings and clafoutis.

Rental contracts in Japan usually run for two years. We’ve just renewed. My daughter started high school this month. It’s a good time to reflect on a new cycle that’s beginning, an important one as she (and I) start/s a new chapter in our lives.

In the past month, my daughter and I have spent energy and time discussing and focusing on academic performance, independent studies, student council, and ski team schedules. The next four years, though, are actually about something entirely different. It’s a time for her to grow comfortable listening to what she really wants, lean into it, speak up, ask for help, make it happen, enjoy what she’s created, and let her path unfold from this place.

It’s about learning to fly, using her curiosity to fuel the flight; cultivating the ability to land safely. Then, to explore.

​
​

What I've Received: Where Are You Going?

I logged into my Artist’s Way Journaling Group early on Saturday morning. Our classmate and host, the epic Ken Rice, had a prompt ready for us:

​

​
I chose the vignettes.

It was funny to me how 200-words felt shortish and doable, and much less intimidating than a 1200-word essay. I wrote three of the six vignettes during the workshop, on what I want my life to be.

I’m trying something different with the next three vignettes: I'm writing 100 words on where I am/ we are now, and another 100 on what I want it to be.

​

Question for you: Which exercise would you choose? Where are you now, and where are you going?

​

---

​