I’m rereading Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg.  It is a wonderful book about writing and being a writer.  Basically she reminds the reader that to be a writer you have to write.  In Chapter One she reminds us of the importance of buying a journal/notebook to write in that isn’t to fancy.


“Sometimes people buy expensive hardcover journals.  They are bulky and heavy, and because they are fancy, you are compelled to write something good.  Instead you should feel that you have permission to write the worst junk in the world and it would be okay.  Give yourself a lot of space in which to explore writing”


When in our lives we feel that we must only be doing ‘good’ things and getting it right we lose the chance to live by living. Writers write and life is for living. In life as in art we need permission for junk so that we can explore.


Do you need permission to live the messy bits?  Whom would you ask for this permission?  What in your life is going unlived because it is just too risky?  What can’t you have because it wouldn’t be perfect enough for the fancy journal of your life?   What if your life could be written in the five pack from Staples of lined pastel schoolbooks?  What colorful experiences would become available?


Homework:  This week, pick up one of those cheap child hood notebooks and daydream about what chances or risks you long to take and what personal undiscovered country you must explore.  Give yourself permission.

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