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You are absolutely in the moment, doing what you are doing, unconscious of time or place or the space around you.
Write about receiving messages
You are lost
You thought nobody noticed
This is what you need for the journey
The last we heard
You got it second hand
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Have you ever experienced a time when it's been just you and your notebook, writing, writing, writing? When you lost track of time and place and even yourself, and rode the sweet edge of imagination, your pen as vessel and your notebook, the deep reaches of inner or outer space your explored.
This is writing practice. The occasion in which you are able to move out of your self-consciousness and surrender to the page. You become the writing. This state of total engrossment is what psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi calls "flow." You are absolutely in the moment, doing what you are doing, unconscious of time or place or the space around you.
When you write in this manner, you are practicing your craft, you're honoring your practice of writing and yourself as writer. Writing practice is what writers do naturally. Like imagining and wondering and daydreaming.
Within the daily ritual of writing practice, the stories that want to be written find their way from our deepest self and onto our pages. We may not even know what these stories are. We may think we know - ideas come to us brilliant as fireworks or slip into our dreams silken as moths' wings. But even as we try to put these ideas into words, what we really want to write about appears on the page as if by a magic solution applied to disappearing ink. Words and images form, seemingly out of nowhere, and rush onto the page in a surge of energy as unstoppable as a birth.
You can trust what appears in your notebook during writing practice. This is where your authentic voice explores its range. The noise you make on the page - ungainly and messy as it may be - is your own true voice. Consider practice to be voice lessons.
About Writing Practice >>>
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