Have you ever tried writing when it’s felt less like flow and more like… pushing play-doh through an extractor? That’s how I felt a few days ago. I sat down to write my newsletter and words came out in messy clumps on my paper. Nothing fit together, and nothing felt easy.

Luckily, I’ve been writing long enough to know that there’s always a better way. I could doggedly stick with my plan and force out the words… or I could step back and tune in.

So, I started getting curious about why the writing wasn’t coming more easily. As I mindfully folded clothes, I noticed an achiness in my body and a tightness in my forehead. Thoughts were racing through my brain. As I slowed down my breathing and watched my thoughts a bit, bingo, there it was.

I’ve been opening my coaching practice into some new and untested areas, stretching the boundaries of where I’ve been and taking interesting turns at places. So, when I sat down to write, what showed up was confusion (What direction am I going, What else am I meant to be?) and old marching orders (Write about this writing topic that’s been on your list for weeks). With all this murkiness about what I really wanted to express, no wonder I couldn’t write!

I also realized that my “buzz” wasn’t going to come from any of the tired topics I had planned to write about. As I did some breathing, the words appeared — Beginners Mind. I was trying to force writing from places I’d been, instead of writing from the freshness of where I was standing in the moment. Where I was standing was in the midst of transition, which can be seen as negative and stressful or the precipice of something exciting. In that moment, being an expert held little interest to me. As Zen Master Shunryo Suzuki says, “In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities, but in the expert’s there are few.”

Being an “expert” felt boring, and my writing reflected that. Even worse, it sounded artificial — like I was talking about something from a part of me that wasn’t authentic. What felt so much more inviting and freeing in that moment was to release all that and give myself permission not to know. To just write from “here I am and who knows what will come out.” I trusted that the right message would appear – for me and my readers. As soon as I did that, the writing began…

Writing Pearls:

At times, we all find our creativity clogged with old thoughts and habits. Perhaps it’s time to get the Drano and clear the pipes?

What in your life are you ready to release? What identity/habit/thought have you held onto for so long that it’s become boring and flat and inhibits you from full expression? What would happen if you approached your writing with beginner’s mind, being fully in the moment and noticing what bubbles up?

As founder of Backyard Pearls, LLC, Carolyn Scarborough helps people tap into their inner wisdom, then share it with the world through books, blogs and articles. As a Writing Wisdom Coach, she supports you through the journey from inspiring idea to published piece in a way that’s joyful, effortless and profitable.

She’s done almost every kind of writing imaginable, including magazine features, newspaper columns, books, journaling — even ghostwriting for Donald Trump! Her favorite sort of writing is the kind where she has to be really present to find the story, so her life and writing are both a constant awakening to a deeper, richer way to live in the world.

To subscribe to Backyard Pearls Newsletter, visit the site here.

Request your complimentary “Getting to Know You” session to start turning your inner whisperings into a published book, blog or article.

You may reprint the featured article, in its entirety, by including a byline and the following information: “Carolyn Scarborough, The Book Whisperer, helps people tap into their inner wisdom, then share it with the world through books, blogs and articles. You can get a free audio on overcoming writers block by clicking HERE.”

Have you ever been all charged up to write, ready to plow in and get something written (a newsletter perhaps?), yet find when you sit down words come but they’re somehow… flat? You write a sentence and it’s dry, as lifeless as the skin life behind by a snake. I’ve done that – still do sometimes as it’s all good and all part of the process – but now I have more insight on how to shift when the words aren’t what I want. And my recent reminder of this process came from trying to heal some pain I was dealing with.

A few months ago, I started getting some shoulder and arm pain. I went to a physical therapist, who promptly showed me what exercises I needed to do. He spoke plainly and said to do X number of reps with the yellow exercise band, Y times a day, and assured me that in a few weeks I’d be fine. I’d go home, follow his direction… yet the pain continued getting worse.

For two months I did this, until finally I realized I needed a different path. I got on the phone with some of my wise women friends, they recommended some alternative practitioners, and I found myself in a small house off the beaten path with someone I hoped would help me. I showed her the exercises I’d been doing. She smiled, then gently showed me a way of doing them where instead of mindlessly moving my body, I fully engaged. I breathed deeply, stretched my arm very slowly, let my intuition guide me, and suddenly it all clicked.

Rather than simply following directions with my head, I was pulling together mind, body and spirit towards my healing. Rather than following the more masculine form of only “doing,” I was pausing long enough to integrate my “being” into my doing. It made all the difference.

So, what does this have to do with writing? Sometimes things don’t click because we simply start writing, going through the motions and so focused on the goal of finishing it that we don’t go along for the ride. We approach our writing the way we would closing a business deal or buying a car. That may provide momentum – a good thing! – but it doesn’t flavor our work with who we are.

That’s the more traditionally masculine way of approaching things. When the feminine energy is called in, however, our intuition kicks in. We start feeling into a writing project and letting it flow the way it needs to. We pull our minds into the present and integrate that with our bodies and our wisdom to write from that deeper, more effortless place.

If I hadn’t integrated this more holistic approach with my health, I’d probably still be sitting there pulling on exercise bands while my mind imagined when it would be over. Now I have a luscious, challenging, and incredibly exciting process that is growing all of me, not just my arms and shoulders. When we write like that, the benefits go far beyond what we’re writing as well. Like the snake with its new skin, we move through life with more vitality, presence and ease.

Do you ever have so many great ideas swirling around that it’s hard to keep track of what, or where, they all are? Perhaps there’s a partially written book manuscript in your drawer, a painting languishing on a shelf and great business ideas scattered in your computer files?

Or, on the opposite end of the spectrum, are you very good at staying focused on one thing – so focused, in fact, that you dogmatically stick with it and the process is, well, slightly dry and joyless?

If you’re in either of these camps, you’re not alone. As a writing coach, I’ve seen people in both of these spaces (and been in both myself!). The former are frustrated that they just can’t seem to finish what they start, the latter are frustrated that it’s just not fun. There are, however, insights to guide your way.

In HeatherAsh Amara’s’s new book “Sacred Time Management,” she says, “When we have too much intent (focused purpose) running, we get narrow-minded and dogmatic. There is no room for discovery or learning through our mistakes. When we live solely from our creativity, we become ungrounded and scattered. We have lots of ideas, but not the force to manifest them in a concrete manner. It is only when we balance play and focus, discipline and experimentation, intent and creativity, that we possess the ingredients to fully catalyze our blossoming.”

I love this. It so beautifully describes the relationship between the two styles, and what direction will move us towards more balance. In upcoming posts, I’ll explore ways to find this balance. Meantime, awareness is a huge leap – so enjoy flying!

When I read a client’s writing, it’s usually obvious where they were writing it. I don’t mean if they were on a black rock beach in Hawaii or having tea at their daughter’s house. I mean, it’s clear if it was written from the very logical, detail oriented section of the brain that is afraid to make a mistake and gets all rigid when facing the empty page… or if it’s written from a light, joyful space that’s whooshing through the page like bluebirds on a summer’s morning.

People don’t always get that the space they write from is just as important as the words that come out. That’s why I’m especially tickled with the title of Story Circle’s national memoir conference, Stories from the Heart V, held in Austin February 5-7 (http://www.storycircle.org/Conference/ ) I’m excited and honored to be one of the writing coaches selected this year to support conference attendees in “writing from their heart.” When we go deep, we find our authentic voices that we can then share with the world.
I hope you’ll join us – let’s find out what riches await when we loosen the rein on our logical brain and write from vaster spaces…

For someone who loves to write and loves to read, there’s no greater thrill (other than a cold evening, a fire and a good book) than mixing and mingling with other writers. On that count, a recent outing was pure bliss. My husband Charley and I strapped on our tennis shoes, grabbed water bottles and made a day of it at the Texas Book Festival in Austin.

Under balmy 75 degree skies, we traced green pathways around the state capital lined with tents full of books. Friend Jennifer Marine and author of “No One’s the Bitch” told me about her upcoming interview on Dr. Phil’s show, I got some books signed, and we sat in the massive capitol rooms to hear authors speak. Afterwards, we sipped freshly squeezed lemonades while listening to music and cradling our precious book purchases.

A highlight was listening to my favorite author, Elizabeth Berg, speaking about her writing process. She likened it to a “freefall into trust.” She said she never knows where she’s going to end up, but it’s a spiritual process where she simply has faith that what needs to be expressed will make it onto the page. Rather than rigidly plotting her books, she lets everyday miracles speak for themselves on the page.

By the end of the day – and before our jaunt to 6th Street to see revelers in their Halloween costumes – I felt deeply quenched. Writing is a solitary sport, but one so deeply enjoyable we sometimes forget that swapping stories with other writers is a vital part of the package.