I’m at home. It’s raining. I’ve got my headphones in and listening to the band Idles while washing the dishes.
They give me an eery feeling. The music, not the dishes. Or maybe it’s the weather outside. Cold and damp. Darker than usual.
I like to listen to music when washing dishes. Puts me in a zone. Kind of like meditation. Calms my mind in a way—washing dishes, not the music.
I like to get up early in the mornings. Sometimes my son wakes up too. I got up at 4:30 one day and walked into the kitchen. He was at the top of the stairs in a squat position and starts doing these jump squats — For no reason other than he’s wide awake and feeling good. It’ll take me more than one cup of coffee to feel that good.
I’ve been working on this idea for a book. I tried writing fiction a few years ago. It wasn’t great and I lost the drive. Then, my computer crashed— and now I can’t seem to find the old document. But I’ve got a good feeling about what I’m working on now. I’ve just got to build some momentum and create some discipline.
Yesterday we worked chokes in BJJ. Today, my neck is bruised. I feel like this could be a metaphor for life.
The other day I ran 10 miles listening to the band Sleeping Giant on repeat. Good stuff. I got home and wrote a couple of songs. Songs that will never be heard.
When I’m trying to build writing momentum, here’s what I do…
I drink coffee and read an author I like. Nonfiction stuff. Then, I open up a document and just start free writing. Maybe I put something in story form. Maybe there’s a point. Or maybe I just free associate.
You see, the words don’t matter as much as just getting them out there.
This is the process.
And the process becomes the momentum.
Yes, there are days that I have no clue what to write. And to be honest, these days are becoming the norm. But I can’t think too much about that or else my brain becomes Swiss cheese. Instead, I write.
Writing doesn’t have to be thinking. Writing can be like meditating. Get the thoughts out as soon as they come in.
This is cathartic.
I tend to be a human prozac generator. I don’t worry. I just go with the flow. But lately, I’ve had a little stress. So, I write.
This is a way of getting the thoughts out of my head. It’s a release. I don’t need drugs. (Although a glass of whiskey would be nice right about now).
Writing becomes the medicine.
It’s not the ultimate medicine. But still, it’s therapeutic in a way that I think too many people ignore. Probably because they think of writing as something that has to make sense. Or have perfect grammar. Or that someone else might read.
It doesn’t have to be any of those things. Although it could be, but that’s not the point of what I’m trying to do.
I’m just trying to build momentum.
Tell a story if possible.
And get the thoughts out…
before they do me in.
Be First to Comment