Balancing Act

Writing can happen in one place and one place only: The Present Moment. It cannot happen in the past, though we might – while in the present moment – focus our attention upon some past event for inspiration or material. But the writing itself happens in the present moment. And of course it can’t happen in the future, that sometimes near, sometimes very distant land where the story we’re writing will live when it’s finished. All creation happens in the present moment, because that is all that actually exists.

I have to remind myself of this every time I sit down to write. How easy to let my attention drift into the past, where I believe all my failures reside. Failure always lives in the past, in whose shadows, like a moss, it can thrive. In the bright hot light of the present moment – in which life is only potential, in which life is only forgiving, in which life is only curious – the concept of failure has no purchase for its hopeless roots.

And how equally easy to let my attention drift into the future, where I believe the value of what I am creating in the present moment will be revealed. I don’t want to waste my time, after all. Why write something that no one wants to read? To ask such a question is to hold my stories hostage until such time as the ransom of other people’s approval has been paid.

Which is why I have learned to ask myself two questions while I write: What do I want to say? And, Have I said it? Only the present moment can answer these questions. But keeping my attention where it needs and actually wants to be is a kind of balancing act, pulled as I am to the past and future. Drift too far either way and I will fall. No matter. The support of the present moment remains ever true, and I need only return to standing to find myself where I have always been.

If you like the ideas and perspectives expressed here, feel free to contact me about individual and group coaching.

 

Fearless Writing: How to Create Boldly and Write With Confidence.
You can find William at: williamkenower.com

Follow wdbk on Twitter

Timely Stories

When I was a boy, stories were my first and preferred means of communication. I told stories to my friends and family, and for a while I did not really understand how writing might be useful for something other than storytelling or making a list of Christmas presents I wanted. My relationship to storytelling was entirely intuitive, and as such my growth as a storyteller was no more noticeable to me than my body’s growth. It just happened.

Which is why I am so grateful for the clients I work with now who are learning about storytelling as adults. It is as if I am being reacquainted with this essential art form. For instance, I did not understand until recently how stories require us to surrender to the artificial concept of time. Whether we perceive it or not, every one of us is always living in the Right Now. That’s when everything is happening. As such, everything that’s happening in the Right Now matters because it’s reality and reality is all that ever matters. Time, meanwhile, is nothing but a dream of the past and future, which by definition are never reality.

Have I lost you little? If so, this is why we have stories. The storyteller must ignore the reality of timelessness and say, “This happened and then that happened and then this and that happened, and then, finally, this really interesting and surprising and meaningful thing happened because of all the other things that happened before it.” In this way, the storyteller reduces reality to a few manageable bits, organizing these bits in such a way that life seems to make sense.

I suppose I was drawn to stories when I was a boy for this very reason. Kids live much more in the Right Now than adults. Play, a child’s most important pursuit, is very much a Right Now activity. But every child knows he will become an adult, and I could sense that something other than play would be required of me then. I was not really happy about this, but I could not stop what we called time, but was actually just change, which was just growth, which was just learning – and so I told stories to remember what I might forget if I got lost in what I learned.

If you like the ideas and perspectives expressed here, feel free to contact me about individual and group coaching.

 

Fearless Writing: How to Create Boldly and Write With Confidence.
You can find William at: williamkenower.com

Follow wdbk on Twitter

Free Time

If you were to visit my personal website, and if you poked around the interviews, and the Author2Author archives, and my books, and my blog, and Author magazine, and my coaching and workshops, you might conclude that I’m a pretty busy guy. This is an illusion I must maintain as a respectable adult. Most days I am not even a little busy, which is exactly how I like it. When I actually do get busy, if I have a chapter to finish and two clients to meet and an interview to shoot all in the same day, I feel as if my life has been hijacked.

Mind you, I like doing all this stuff. I wouldn’t have agreed to do it otherwise. The problem is I agreed to do these things the day, or the week, or the month before. Now the day itself has arrived and I find myself yearning for free time, for a great blank page of an afternoon where I may ask myself, “What would please me most at this very moment?” I am nothing if not responsible, however, so I suck it up, and follow my schedule, and then collapse in the evening as if I’ve just spent the day laboring in a coal mine.

It’s a happy kind of collapse, honestly, since I enjoyed doing everything I did. It’s very confusing being me sometimes. Because the only thing I dislike more than being busy is being bored. You see the problem? The solution, if you can call it that, is a kind of practice I learned from writing. Writing is all about filling blank pages. Every single moment on the page, every chapter, paragraph, and sentence is different than what has been written before. The only way to succeed, to enjoy, to thrive while writing is to give the scene or sentence I am crafting my complete attention.

And by complete attention I mean disciplined forgetting. I must forget about the past and all my grievances with it; I must forget about the future and what I fear might happen there; I must forget about other people and what they like and don’t like; I must forget about my chores and my children and all my loved ones; I must forget about everything but the story I’m telling. In such a holy instant I meet life completely, neither bored nor fatigued, just aware and alive and interested. Time, no matter what I’m doing, is not actually an impediment to such an experience – there can never be too much or too little of it. The only impediment remains my attention, a thing so free it can lead me at any moment into heaven or hell.

If you like the ideas and perspectives expressed here, feel free to contact me about individual and group coaching.

 

Fearless Writing: How to Create Boldly and Write With Confidence.
You can find William at: williamkenower.com

Follow wdbk on Twitter

Out of Time

I would not have guessed, when I began teaching Fearless Writing, that the most common problem my students would face was time. To be precise, finding time to write, a subject about which I have written often in this space. I would not have guessed it would be such a problem because I had never considered it a problem in my own writing life. Since boyhood I had always set aside plenty of time to write. No problem.

Like most teachers, I teach what I most want to learn, and I think my students and I are not so very different in our concerns about time. It is one thing to set aside two hours a day to write; it is another thing to spend those two hours productively. And by productively, I don’t mean pounding out a certain number of words or pages; I mean entering into that dreamlike flow where I forget about everything but the story I’m telling, where I am receiving more than making, listening more than thinking.

If I am in that state of mind, I really don’t care if I produce 400 words or 4,000 words. I don’t care where what I’ve written will be published or what anyone will think of it. When I’m in that flow, all I care about is being in that flow. There is no better feeling than focusing on something completely, without any judgment or expectation, without any thought of what I have done or might do. There is no better feeling than living the in present moment.

Which is why time remains the single biggest obstruction to my creativity and productivity. Not the lack of time, simply the awareness of it. When I enter into the creative flow, I forget about the past and the future. I forget about guilt, which exists entirely in the past, and I forget about worry, which waits entirely in the future. Moreover, without the past or the future, there is no time, there is only an endless now.

I am reticent to even write the words “endless now,” as that concept is so elusive it appears not to even exist. It is easier for the imagination to picture the past or future than the present moment. In fact, my imagination cannot picture the present moment. It can, however, enter it, and when it does, it is released from the burden of correcting what is unreal and freed to create what is real.

If you like the ideas and perspectives expressed here, feel free to contact me about individual and group coaching.

9781935961994-Perfect_CS.indd

Write Within Yourself: An Author’s Companion.

A book to keep nearby whenever your writer’s spirit needs feeding.” Deb Caletti.

You can find William at: williamkenower.com

Follow wdbk on Twitter

The Balancing Act

Writing can happen in one place and one place only: The Present Moment. It cannot happen in the past, though we might – while in the present moment – focus our attention upon some past event for inspiration or material. But the writing itself happens in the present moment. And of course it can’t happen in the future, that sometimes near, sometimes very distant land where the story we’re writing will live when it’s finished. All creation happens in the present moment, because that is all that actually exists.

I have to remind myself of this every time I sit down to write. How easy to let my attention drift into the past, where I believe all my failures reside. Failure always lives in the past, in whose shadows, like a moss, it can thrive. In the bright hot light of the present moment – in which life is only potential, in which life is only forgiving, in which life is only curious – the concept of failure has no purchase for its hopeless roots.

And how equally easy to let my attention drift into the future, where I believe the value of what I am creating in the present moment will be revealed. I don’t want to waste my time, after all. Why write something that no one wants to read? To ask such a question is to hold my stories hostage until such time as the ransom of other people’s approval has been paid.

Which is why I have learned to ask myself two questions while I write: What do I want to say? And, Have I said it? Only the present moment can answer these questions. But keeping my attention where it needs and actually wants to be is a kind of balancing act, pulled as I am to the past and future. Drift too far either way and I will fall. No matter. The support of the present moment remains ever true, and I need only return to standing to find myself where I have always been.

9781935961994-Perfect_CS.indd

Write Within Yourself: An Author’s Companion.

A book to keep nearby whenever your writer’s spirit needs feeding.” Deb Caletti.

You can find William at: williamkenower.com

Follow wdbk on Twitter

Making Time

I have always made time to write. Whether I was working as a waiter or a sales clerk, whether I was designing roleplaying adventures or booking and conducting interviews, I have always made time to write. This was not so difficult because I considered writing a pleasure and what I wanted most in the world was to do only things that pleased me. Making time to write often meant choosing writing over something that did not please me at all.

Yet I imposed a cost on myself for this choice. I called myself lazy. I believed I wasn’t responsible enough. I felt I should do a few more things that didn’t please me, which seemed like a more grown-up way to live. Children just did whatever they felt like, until they grew up and learned the unavoidable truth of surviving. There’s only so much time in the day, after all. If you spend it all just doing whatever you felt like, houses would never get built and groceries would never get bought.

Time’s a strange commodity. It expands and compresses with my attention. When I become happily lost within the dream of writing, the past and future loose their hold on my imagination, trained as it is in the present moment where creation can occur. When I awaken from this dream, it is like waking from a night’s sleep; it is as if I’d traveled five miles of time in a few steps.

When I am doing things that do not please me, I feel every second. I travel each one, step-by-step, measuring my way toward the end of this chore. Time is a measure, not in where I am, but only in my position relative to the end. I live in the future, in that imagined time when I might be happy again.

Time has never actually existed, but happiness and unhappiness have. In fact, they are all we really know. No one actually needs to find time to write. We need only answer this question: Is my life about doing what pleases me, or doing what I must? Which is actually more important? How I answer that question creates or destroys all time.

9781935961994-Perfect_CS.indd

Write Within Yourself: An Author’s Companion.

A book to keep nearby whenever your writer’s spirit needs feeding.” Deb Caletti.

You can find William at: williamkenower.com

Follow wdbk on Twitter