The end of October is almost upon us, which means "Face the Wall Fall" is likewise coming to a close. I haven't written too much about our communal bravery exercise in recent weeks, but I hope you, like me, have been exploring your edges for the past couple months. Success was a mixed bag for me, as it so often is. On the writing front, I made zero progress -- but I'll circle back to that in a moment. In the yoga studio, I fared better. After twenty years of practice, I've finally managed to break through the mental block keeping me from taking flight (!). Like most progress, mine has not been all or nothing; I haven't suddenly found rock-solid confidence turning upside-down. But my internal dialogue around handstanding changed dramatically after that first, glorious moment of sustained inversion. It wasn't unlike coming to the end of the first draft of my first novel: the theoretical belief that something is possible suddenly transforms to the surety of practical experience. Normally, I feel the strong urge to throat-punch people who tout twee inspirational phrases, so it truly pains me to tell you that "feel the fear and do it anyway" was a big part of my improvement over the past couple months. I'm similarly horrified to reveal that a popular audio snippet on Instagram -- in which a man's voice reminds us that practice doesn't make perfect, it makes progress -- has been helpful in altering my internal dialogue. Alas, I have delicately sipped from the chalice of inspirational kool-aid and found it...not totally unpalatable.An interesting byproduct of discovering I can, in fact, handstand away from the wall is the realization that, given the alternative, I often won't. If the wall is there, I can use it as an excuse to be a little sloppy and unfocused, which is the antithesis of what yoga postural practice is supposed to be. So this week, I cut the final cord; I moved my mat away from "my spot" in the front row and forced myself into the middle of the room, where the only handstands to be had are the ones I support under my own power. It's an annoying change, because sometimes I just want to hoist myself pell-mell toward an inversion, and now I can't. But the trade-off is more realistic progress, not to mention being less of a fussbudget about where I am in the room.As promised, and as usual, you might be wondering how all this relates back to writing. I knew all along I could handstand away from the wall, I just didn't believe it. Similarly, I know I can write a novel, because I've already done it; the fear about book 2 is that I'm shouting into the void, destined to write and never publish. Book 1's fate is yet to be determined, and I find a loose end like that terribly distracting. I can't let that stop me from moving forward, and yet...To force the issue, I'm doing the equivalent of moving my mat away from the wall: I'm announcing today that I will be participating in National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) this November, and I'm inviting you to do it with me. The goal of NaNoWriMo is to complete a 50k-word draft in 30 days. I completed NaNo back in college, drafting a truly hellacious trashfire of a novel that was blessedly lost during a hard drive meltdown in the early aughts. Still, I remember my first NaNo as an invigorating, messy, exciting time when I put perfectionism and anxiety aside and just did the damn thing. That's the energy I need right now, and really -- how often does the universe serve up exactly what you need, exactly when you need it? Seems silly not to take advantage, right?If you're game for a NaNoWriMo challenge, let me know what you're working on! Keep your answer to a single sentence, and I'll feature as many as I can in the next issue of RAWWR. xR
Reading & Writing With Rebecca: Issue 74
Reading & Writing With Rebecca: Issue 74
Reading & Writing With Rebecca: Issue 74
The end of October is almost upon us, which means "Face the Wall Fall" is likewise coming to a close. I haven't written too much about our communal bravery exercise in recent weeks, but I hope you, like me, have been exploring your edges for the past couple months. Success was a mixed bag for me, as it so often is. On the writing front, I made zero progress -- but I'll circle back to that in a moment. In the yoga studio, I fared better. After twenty years of practice, I've finally managed to break through the mental block keeping me from taking flight (!). Like most progress, mine has not been all or nothing; I haven't suddenly found rock-solid confidence turning upside-down. But my internal dialogue around handstanding changed dramatically after that first, glorious moment of sustained inversion. It wasn't unlike coming to the end of the first draft of my first novel: the theoretical belief that something is possible suddenly transforms to the surety of practical experience. Normally, I feel the strong urge to throat-punch people who tout twee inspirational phrases, so it truly pains me to tell you that "feel the fear and do it anyway" was a big part of my improvement over the past couple months. I'm similarly horrified to reveal that a popular audio snippet on Instagram -- in which a man's voice reminds us that practice doesn't make perfect, it makes progress -- has been helpful in altering my internal dialogue. Alas, I have delicately sipped from the chalice of inspirational kool-aid and found it...not totally unpalatable.An interesting byproduct of discovering I can, in fact, handstand away from the wall is the realization that, given the alternative, I often won't. If the wall is there, I can use it as an excuse to be a little sloppy and unfocused, which is the antithesis of what yoga postural practice is supposed to be. So this week, I cut the final cord; I moved my mat away from "my spot" in the front row and forced myself into the middle of the room, where the only handstands to be had are the ones I support under my own power. It's an annoying change, because sometimes I just want to hoist myself pell-mell toward an inversion, and now I can't. But the trade-off is more realistic progress, not to mention being less of a fussbudget about where I am in the room.As promised, and as usual, you might be wondering how all this relates back to writing. I knew all along I could handstand away from the wall, I just didn't believe it. Similarly, I know I can write a novel, because I've already done it; the fear about book 2 is that I'm shouting into the void, destined to write and never publish. Book 1's fate is yet to be determined, and I find a loose end like that terribly distracting. I can't let that stop me from moving forward, and yet...To force the issue, I'm doing the equivalent of moving my mat away from the wall: I'm announcing today that I will be participating in National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) this November, and I'm inviting you to do it with me. The goal of NaNoWriMo is to complete a 50k-word draft in 30 days. I completed NaNo back in college, drafting a truly hellacious trashfire of a novel that was blessedly lost during a hard drive meltdown in the early aughts. Still, I remember my first NaNo as an invigorating, messy, exciting time when I put perfectionism and anxiety aside and just did the damn thing. That's the energy I need right now, and really -- how often does the universe serve up exactly what you need, exactly when you need it? Seems silly not to take advantage, right?If you're game for a NaNoWriMo challenge, let me know what you're working on! Keep your answer to a single sentence, and I'll feature as many as I can in the next issue of RAWWR. xR