I don’t know how other people write, but for me, writing is more than just words on a page. I never just sit down and start writing whatever comes to mind. It has to be something within me that is stirring. So when I feel something in my chest, I write. But when I don’t have that feeling, I have learned over the years not to write.
This is especially true after writing a book. But first, the book-writing process for me is a bit unorthodox. At the beginning, an idea comes to me. The only way I have ever been able to describe it is it feels like a “download” or that I have been “connected to a flow.” I immediately begin taking notes and writing the ideas feverishly. After about a week, the download or flow is finished, and I stop taking notes. At that point, I leave the notes to sit for about four to six months and never look at them. Finally, when the time feels right, I revisit everything I have written down to see if I still have the same feeling as I did when I first wrote everything down.
I do this because writing a book is a marathon. And for me, if I start writing a book, I don’t want to lose passion or interest in it halfway through. I have to really feel it.
So, you can imagine what it is like for me to write for five or six months and be so deeply emotionally invested. I feel like I am pouring and pouring and pouring out until I am fully depleted. When I finish writing a book, I don’t want to write anything else, read anything, or even consider ideas. I’m always gassed.
But someone didn’t listen to their body after writing their last book. I took on an editing project, wrote two chapters for anthology projects with my publisher, and tried to keep these weekly writings going. After several months, I felt this maniacal schedule catching up with me.
That’s what we do, though. We neglect the deep wisdom of our bodies. While we operate much of our lives out of expectation and obligation, a more integrated life is one that is aware of its imbalance and the importance of a better rhythm. Here is what that looks like for me: after pouring out creatively for an extended time, it is essential for me to not do anything except fill myself up again.
That’s what I’ve been up to the last couple of months.
Question
Am I honoring my own need for rest and rejuvenation, or am I pushing myself beyond my limits out of obligation or expectation?
Peace,
Brandon