This is the sound of me doing nothing

A book deadline is an incredible gift of a burden: my own, invented boulder that I pushed uphill for six months before lobbing it across the ether to my beloved editor. This book (The Productive Writer: Tips and Tools for Writing More, Stressing Less and Creating Success, due out this December) has had a life of its own, possessing my (way too) early mornings and later-than-I'd-like-to-admit evenings. It has been a relationship with the possible coming into form. The tyranny and the bliss of the blank page, day after day, after day.

And in parallel, I've also been teaching two classes, working a very demanding "day" and often "night" job, dealing with some challenging family health stuff, playing with my son, walking the dogs, and occasionally showering. It's been many months since I've sat still, with unstructured thoughts pooling like fresh water into my empty hands. 

Until now.

My taxes are filed, my deluge of documents have landed in my editor's email box on-deadline, my clients have everything they were expecting today, and I am...still. Looking out a sunny window, at a tidy desk, a gigantic cat in my lap. This is the sound of me doing nothing...almost.

To celebrate, I will take a shower, let my toddler son pat me on the back (one of his latest intimacy favorites), and then eat sushi with my husband and mother in law. Later tonight, I will take a bath and contemplate how grateful I am to have spent these many months meditating (through writing) on topics that I am passionate about, so I can then share those thoughts with others.

I have learned so much about my own approach to -- and opinions about -- productivity as I've been writing. Mostly, I am simply grateful that I have kept at this writing life of mine over the years. I think that's what it all boils down to in the end: being committed enough to the word to keep moving toward it; then discovering along the way where we're headed -- and finding creative ways to get there.

Tomorrow, I'll be back at it -- I owe some big writing deliverables to some big clients -- and I'll be packing up for my reading and teaching extravaganza with the Manzanita Writers Series on Saturday. If you are in the area, it would be so much fun to see you.

Wherever you are, dear reader, I hope you will celebrate with me by taking a moment to appreciate whatever boulders you are pushing and naming the gifts they have given you. Then, I invite you to sit somewhere sunny with your hands in your lap (or on a fat cat) and listen to the sound of your own brilliance pooling in your inner ear.

Comments

[Ryanhaack]

Congratulations, Sage! Enjoy the bath!

Can't wait to pick your brain when this comes out in December.

[Kris B]

Congrats, congrats! And thanks for sharing your talents with us!

[Sage Cohen]

Thanks so much!!

[Fiona Robyn]

Ah, I did this today before you even asked me to. I'm very grateful for the space to learn at the moment - on my buddhist psychotherapy course, and by following all the threads that proliferate on their own when you have the right kind of space around you. No more writing until September. ENJOY your spacious bath, and here's to many more, and to many more pats on the back :)x

[Ed Batista]

Many congrats, Sage. I'll be eager to read your latest. (Great cover art!) We've been pushing a few boulders of our own lately, and I can appreciate how satisfying it must feel to reach the top (even if another peak is just over the ridge.)

Ed