Ever felt that it has been hard to sit down and write something that you feel within to express, but the actual writing process (whether it be by pen or keyboard) leaves you feeling agitated and stressed?
This has been my recent experience – feeling a strong impulse and beautiful expression within me to be shared, yet once sitting at the table or desk to commence writing I quickly observed that my shoulders were tight, my hands were hard and I was caught in a drive to get it done that did not feel very nice. To make things worse, because I so desperately wanted the words and process to flow, I judged myself harshly and this left me feeling deflated and exhausted!
Today I have felt into what has been going on in this process and observed that:
- When I was commencing writing, I was attached to the outcome and what the words looked like.
- I was needing my writing to be completed as soon as possible.
- I was not stopping to feel me and honour my body first and foremost, before any ink to paper or words on the computer screen were captured.
- I was being narrow in my view, taking an initial impulse from my body but then intellectualising it and wanting to make it sound clever – a pattern I have come to know well following multiple years of university study and working in an engineering discipline where writing is often subject to intellectual criticism.
- I was not appreciating myself and all I have to offer.
As I write now, I have taken a completely different approach. I have decided I do not want to feel hardness in my body as I type and that my connection with the delicateness and beauty of me is my first and foremost priority. Just sitting down with this intention has resulted in an incredible shift, enabling me to feel that I am already complete and enough without the words I am about to express needing to define me.
I have paused as I write to feel the power and simplicity of my words. And I have acknowledged that there is always more to express, yet in this moment it is to feel what is called for now.
I have typed without my glasses on. This means I cannot see the words clearly on the screen in the first instance, but given I can touch type, this is not a problem and has offered an exquisite opportunity to feel what I am writing and not critically refine it as I write. My hands are much less hard as a result.
There is a deeper level that I can take this to, for now I am much more aware of my fingertips on each pad of the keyboard and how I am pressing down – and that I can choose to do this in the lightness and delicateness of who I am. There is almost a melody and serenity in the ‘click click’ sound of the keyboard as I type under this impress. And my heart feels an opening and celebration for allowing me to bring me to typing in a way that I have not before.
I have also been very aware of my posture and how my workstation is set up to support me. This has included adjusting the height of my keyboard so that it slants upwards a little to support my hands and fingers for what they need today (on other days this may be different).
In honouring me, it has been very beautiful to write, and a pleasure to not merely share words, but to share me as I write.
The end result is a simple expansion of everything I am already and a simplicity in knowing I can bring this to the next expression, and then the next, without any drive, push or struggle within to do so.
By Susan Hayes, Ballarat, Victoria