Call it a mystic state, call it a quasi-mystic experience, call it gettin’ your groove on, or call it flow. You know it when you’re in it: That space where everything disappears except your writing and the words spill onto the page like, uh . . . well, I’m not in flow right now, so no metaphor is coming. But you know what I’m talking about.
The ironic—and distressing—thing about getting into flow is that the harder you try to make it happen, the more you’re ensuring that it won’t. Yet, there are things you can do to invite flow in. On this Writing Tips Thursday, here are four suggestions, from Writing as a Sacred Path and elsewhere, for leaving the welcome mat out and the porch light on in case flow decides to come your way:
If you can’t write what you’re trying to write, try to write something else. Anything else. Flow is all about being open to whatever wants to happen at the moment. Just open a page and see what crops up.
Have a ritual. “Ritualizing behavior enhances focus on the task at hand,” writes Susan K. Perry, author of Writing in Flow. “Instead of worrying about the end product and how it will be received by the world, it works much better to set up a predictable environment, where all that matters is the poem, story, or novel itself.” Perry, who interviewed scores of writers for her book, details how varied such routines are—from exercising to playing music to writing with a lucky pen. She is decidedly non-mystical in her approach: “Your chosen rituals are habits that on a biological level cause other activities or processes,” she writes. It’s all about “helping shift consciousness.”
Some writers seem to go there naturally, but most of us have to wait and hope for flow, never sure if or when we’re going to go tumbling into that place, never even sure we’ll go there ever again.
The ironic—and distressing—thing about getting into flow is that the harder you try to make it happen, the more you’re ensuring that it won’t. Yet, there are things you can do to invite flow in. On this Writing Tips Thursday, here are four suggestions, from Writing as a Sacred Path and elsewhere, for leaving the welcome mat out and the porch light on in case flow decides to come your way:
Do whatever it is you do to relax. “Flow occurs when you are engaged, not anxious,” writes psychologist Tracy Steen. “Do what you can to reduce your anxiety before sitting down to write. Go for a run, listen to relaxing music, put your worries on paper . . . Do whatever works best for you.” Steen is talking to dissertation-writers here (and having been through that unique level of purgatory, I wish she’d been around back in the day), but her advice goes for any kind of writer. What she calls the “twin enemies” of flow are impatience and anxiety. Shed them before you pick up your pen with some yoga, tai chi, or my favorite technique, a nap.
Write anything. I was sitting in my favorite café struggling with my novel a few weeks ago, unable to focus, to find words, even to think straight, when I finally closed my chapter in frustration and opened a fresh page. I just started writing—without a goal or a plan or even a topic. In less than a minute, I was lost to the world. A half hour later, I’d completed a blog post I’d never intended to write. It turned out to be one of the most popular posts I’d ever written.
If you can’t write what you’re trying to write, try to write something else. Anything else. Flow is all about being open to whatever wants to happen at the moment. Just open a page and see what crops up.
Have a ritual. “Ritualizing behavior enhances focus on the task at hand,” writes Susan K. Perry, author of Writing in Flow. “Instead of worrying about the end product and how it will be received by the world, it works much better to set up a predictable environment, where all that matters is the poem, story, or novel itself.” Perry, who interviewed scores of writers for her book, details how varied such routines are—from exercising to playing music to writing with a lucky pen. She is decidedly non-mystical in her approach: “Your chosen rituals are habits that on a biological level cause other activities or processes,” she writes. It’s all about “helping shift consciousness.”
Write from the here and now. From Writing as a Sacred Path:
So you have no ideas. No ingenious plots are coming to you. No melodic phrases or stunning metaphors are appearing. You want your creative energies to soar, but they are remaining firmly on the ground. Just write what is on your mind right now. You might write, “I can’t think of a damn thing to write and all I want to do is go to the pier and stick my feet in the cool water and watch the ducks. . . Also, I really want a piece of pound cake.” Write what you see out your window this minute, what you read in the newspaper that morning, a joke from the late-night talk show you heard last night. Write what you see around you at this moment, what sounds you are hearing. Write from the right here and right now, and you might discover yourself entering the quasi-mystical state of flow when you least expect it.
What are your experiences with flow? What techniques work for you? Share them with other readers and help spread some flow around.
Right now I’m in office and enjoying reading this article, workable writing technique you have shared Jill. Thanks for this.
Regards,
Grays
You’re welcome. I love these simple, do-able techniques.
I good writer can “go with the flow.” A true mystic goes with the “universal flow.”
Well said!
Just nominated you in my sorrygnat.wordpress blog for Sunshine Award!
Well, thanks, Sorry Gnat! That’s great. Really glad you like the blog.