The most common question I am asked by writers is, “What should I write about?” Surprisingly, this comes up more for people who want to engage the spiritual in their writing than for anyone else. Maybe that’s because the sacred can seem so far-away and incomprehensible—something you can only achieve in a church or a synagogue, or maybe a redwood forest. Something you arrive at after hours of prayer or meditation.
But, of course, the sacred is here and now and all around us. You don’t have to go looking for it in out-of-the-way places—you just have to know how to find it right where you’re standing.
If you’re having trouble coming up with material, here are three writing ideas you can use to lead your writing into sacred space. Try writing a poem or piece of flash fiction for each one. See where they take you.
Write about your mother. It doesn’t matter if you had a troubled relationship with her or a lovely one (or, like me, one that went both ways). It doesn’t even matter if you never knew her. Write what you remember or don’t remember. What you feel or wish you felt. What you want to say about her or want to say to her. The good, the bad, the gentle, the cruel, the angel-mother, the witch-mother. May Sarton wrote: “I summon you now/Not to think of/The ceaseless battle/With pain and ill health,/The frailty and the anguish./No, today I remember/The creator,/ The lion-hearted.” For another compelling poem about mothers read, “My Mother on an Evening in Late Summer” by one of my favorite poets, Mark Strand here.
Imagine the people who lived in your place before you. Most of us have no idea who once occupied our house or apartment, but we can certainly speculate. Sit in your living room, kitchen, bedroom, or bathroom and picture the people who were there before. The first house I bought was over 100 years old–the fixtures for gas lighting had been removed only a couple years before. My current house was built in 1928, on the eve of the Great Depression, and what is now a breakfast nook was once a servant’s bedroom. I often wonder about the people who built this house, what their lives were like, and whether they loved the house the way my husband and I do.
Think about the lives of all the people who once read in your living room, looked out your windows, cooked meals in your kitchen. Create a life for them. Write their stories.
Immortalize your toothbrush. Yes, you read this correctly, and no, I’m not grasping at straws here trying to come up with ideas. Your toothbrush may seem too homely and ordinary to write about. You barely notice it’s there most of the time—until you’re spending the night in a hotel and suddenly realize you LEFT IT HOME. Then how much you miss that little guy. He keeps your teeth healthy and your breath fresh and even helps prevent strokes. Give him some credit. Write him an ode.
If toothbrushes don’t do it for you, try some other everyday object. Something utterly ordinary. When you can find the meaning in a warm pair of socks, a cracked coffee mug, or your favorite pair of jeans, you’ll find your writing taking you places you never expected.