Carving Out Space for Ourselves

On the things that bring us to life

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Without further ado, today’s pocket.

James Crews has a new book, Unlocking the Heart, Writing for Mindfulness, Courage and Compassion. It is everything you would expect of a James Crews book. It is soothing, full of simplicity and straight up pretty. The blue inside cover is imprinted with lots of little keys, and there’s a pink ribbon to mark your place. The pages are filled with invitations to seek beauty, reflect and write, which is why a few weeks ago, when I was hosting my first writing retreat at our lake cabin, I gently tossed it in the backseat of my car along with a dozen other books I was bringing for inspiration. I value simplicity, but I struggle to keep things simple.

Two years ago, though, I built a simple practice into my life. I started driving up to our lake cabin by myself once a month to write. The first time I went to the cabin alone, I wrote my agenda and my dreams on the blackboard with blue, pink and green pastel chalk. This attention to dreams is no small thing. Two years later, I have a manuscript of my first book. Chalk manifests.

On my lake retreats, I cook delicious food, drink dry red wine, sing, hike, light candles and spend one on one time with my dog Cato. When she and I are alone, I’m more aware of her snoring and of her slow breathing. Spending time alone in the cabin with Cato, where the only noise other than a ticking clock is her heavy steady breathing, clarifies things. On these sojourns, I also read and write, but the retreat is not just about the reading and the writing, it’s about feeding and nourishing myself, enjoying my company and returning home feeling like my cup is full.

In Jami Attenberg’s 1,000 Words, Roxanne Gay writes “if you are a writer, you want to respect your craft the same way you respect the other important things in your life. Make time for your writing, whether it’s writing itself, reading, participating in the literary community, or anything else that contributes meaningfully to your creative life…When you make time to write, honor that commitment to yourself and your creative work as much as you honor all the other commitments in your life.” My trips to the lake were a way for me to carve out space for myself, my creativity and my craft.

I’ve been meeting with the same writing group for almost two years now, another way that I carved out space for myself and another reason why I have a manuscript of my book. Friends also help manifest our dreams, especially friends we talk about those dreams with, friends who sit beside us and listen to those dreams until the dreams are as real as the friends. This fall, I invited my writing friends to the lake with me, so that we could eat delicious food, hike, swim and listen to Cato breathing together. To respect my need for solitude, I went up to the cabin Friday, and they joined me on Saturday. I cleaned because I wanted the cabin to be cozy and inviting for them, but I didn’t pretend I was someone else. I made sure to prioritize my desire to read, write, do yoga, and watch the sunrise. Instead of making the beds, I handed my friends clean sheets when they arrived, and instead of waiting on them, we took turns making meals. In this way, everyone felt cared for, but it wasn’t overwhelming.

In our time together, we enjoyed the warm October sun, we ate lots of snacks, and we read a poem from James’ book and responded to one of his prompts. The prompt is this. “Write about all the specific things you see when you pay deeper attention and keep your eyes open to the small. Then write what you see with the eyes of the heart, what feels true to you about the world, even if you can’t logically prove it. You might begin with the phrase, ‘If I keep my eyes open…’ and see where it carries you.”

Below I share the poem that I wrote that came from James’ invitation, a poem that emerged from time away with my dog and my friends, time devoted to ourselves, our craft and to our friendship, time spent seeing with the eyes of the heart.

With the Eyes of the Heart (Inspired by James Crews' poem with the same title)

When Cato stares at her dog bed in the shade

and glances at you expectantly

You do not think she is selfish

Seeking the sun is just what

she needs to do


“If you find something that brings you to life…”

Listen


When Cato sticks out her tongue and laps up all the water in her bowl

clanging the dish against the deck when it’s empty

You do not think she is greedy

Quenching her thirst is just what

she needs to do


“If you find something that brings you to life…”

Pay attention


When Cato breathes softly into the blue pillows of the couch

catching the last bit of afternoon sun while snoring into peaceful slumber

You do not think she is lazy

Resting is just what

she needs to do


“If you find something that brings you to life…”

Make space for it


You almost didn’t bring Cato along this time

too much of a distraction

but it is you who are distracted

and she who walks you home

I would love to continue this conversation in the comments. What resonates for you today? What are you reading that you love? If you keep the eyes of your heart open, what do you see?

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