I woke up to find this wonderful email sent to me by Literary Magazine Faith Hope & Fiction. I knew Patricia Crisafulli, editor and founder of FHF, had accepted and agreed to publish an excerpt of my novel Uriel’s Mask (click on word excerpt to read)—but I had no idea that she’d be promoting it within an email to all her subscribers! I’m so grateful. No that’s not quite the right word. Yes I’m grateful, but any of you writers out there will understand, I’m overwhelmed and inspired. When you’ve been on the writer path and have written (and edited) as many manuscript drafts, gone to as many conferences, sent as many submissions to agents, editors, publishers, contests, etc. it’s amazing to have a fellow author believe in you.
I have been “sheltering in place” with my two sons since February 25th—nearly a month before official quarantine orders were given in Los Angeles. (I got sick and recovered early.) During this time, I have gained clarity and focus. It hasn’t always been easy sailing, however, as I’ve had intense lonely days, like many of you. However, what I have learned during the, nearly four months of staying home, has been cataclysmic. In my attempt ‘to give more’ to my boys, I had been doing everything wrong for years. Everything.
But let me start with the beginning. COVID-19 pulled the rug out from under me, as it likely did for many of you. It immediately closed down the yoga studios and hospital classes where I taught eight-to-ten yoga classes a week. It also closed down two companies that I freelanced regularly for. (I’m a writer AND a yogi.) AND, on top of that, I never received my stimulus check and was turned down for unemployment—even though California politicians promised freelance workers consideration in the program. So, as a full time single mother of two, this was stressful.
Then the dust settled. My eyes adjusted. Anxiety lowered. I saw things more clearly. I was filled with gratitude. I was healthy. I had my boys. We could stay in our little cottage by the sea. I could budget. I could learn to manage my financial investments. We were spending less, too. There were no more volleyball lessons, soccer lessons, violin lessons, jiu jitsu. I wasn’t teaching, but no more evening classes or early 6 a.m. classes, meant no more ordered pizzas for dinner, and no last-minute purchases of school lunches for the boys, or coffee runs in the morning after my 6 a.m. class. I had been spending what I earned as a yoga teacher, in order to feed the boys and my caffeine habit.
Plus, slower mornings, meant, no rushing. As my younger son did his school work (my older son, a senior, sleeps in), I sipped half-caff coffee (brewed from home) and re-edited a manuscript. Then I re-edited and heavily tweaked another. That’s 180,000+ words, ya’ll.
Editing and writing my fiction daily had felt like a luxury before. I’d write for my clients: magazines, companies, hospitals. I’d squeeze in my fiction when I could—yet profess it was my purpose in life. Hmmm…I had been afraid of not earning enough money, and for my boys not to be able to do all that their friends did.
The truth is, working on my novels every day, provides me with the consistency to better see, with razor focus, when words sing, and when they are superfluous. I cut nearly 20,000 words from my two novels that are now with an editor. How amazing is that? By next year they will both be published! I mean, WOWZA. Uriel’s Mask and Between Thoughts of You will be published in 2021, either with a traditional publisher, or via a hybrid, (a pub that marries self publishing and traditional.) It’s very exciting and has been a looong journey for this single mother of eleven years. When I think about it too much, I cry. So lets move on.
What else is brewing in my Corona-vile cottage? My eleven-year-old son and I started a garden. We now have tomatoes, blueberries and strawberries. It provides a bit of hope for us and fun for him. He also likes to cook, a little too much, but I’m indulging him and trying to watch out for extra lbs for both of us!
My older son, who is obsessed with investing, has helped me learn about my investments and see which were not working. I’ve saved a lot of money by no longer paying fees, and by switching up investments during a market down-turn—so I have re-cooped losses, and gained a little. Of course, the markets will likely crash again, but I’m in a good position and we pulled rainy day cash out too after a wonderful rise in TESLA. (I’m not a fan of Elon, but hey, I’m grateful.) One stock earns hefty dividends, too, which means, I don’t need to teach yoga now, not that I could. I do, however, teach one virtual class a week for my seniors who have been like family for six years. It’s via my Facebook private page (Yoga w Laura) and is free for anyone to try. It’s my give-back during Corona lock-down, as we all need to get out of fear and move our bodies. Yoga is what allowed me to move past mental blocks, clear channels and programming, and reduce fear and anxiety. It is what allowed me to write nearly three novels in six years. But, all the teaching, ironically, was keeping me from sticking to a regular writing routine—which is key for consistent growth. I had thought the teaching would provide more flexibility and stable income to support the boys’ activities. But I was always given late night, early morning, or weekend classes to teach, which meant, I was away from home too much, and ordering food for the boys. It wasn’t serving me or the boys. Do I miss teaching? Yes. I love the way people melt in savasana and feel better after class. I was in better shape too. BUT, I’m in better financial shape and much better writing shape now. And I’m closer with my boys and closer to garnering a book deal and being able to write for a living. That’s a miracle.
You know what else has become stronger during these trying times? My mastery of the word NO. I must say, I had become pretty sufficient over my years here in La la land as a single yoga teacher. Plenty of married men have given me the ability to exercise that word. Plus, I have high standards when it comes to dating. I know, some of you are shocked that we’re even talking dating during Corona, but surprise, some guys are horny enough to risk their lives for a booty call. First of all, that’s nuts. Like I’d be to tempted enough to jeopardize my, or my kids’ health. But even if we weren’t living in Corona-times, I’d say NO to these yahoos. Sure, I’m lonely as hell. Some mornings I wake up in a fetal position and think I’ve turned into one of those children raised in a 1960’s Romanian orphanage who were never touched. However, NOTHING could make me date (or agree to a booty-call with) the three men who approached me during these past four months. NOTHING. One was a married father of three. (Hmm…NOT a good choice.) One had a serious live-in girlfriend and they are both local leaders in twelve-step communities. He actually got in touch via Insta to congratulate me on my nearly three years of sobriety. One minute later he asked for a private yoga session. Thirty seconds after that DM, he asked me to send a naked pic. (Can you say Gross?? It reminds me of the Netflix show Flaked staring Will Arnett.) And the third was from a guy who had asked me out three years earlier, and when I wouldn’t sleep with him on the first date, ghosted me. His text last week read: “Wanna hang out?” (Um NO. Not really.)
SO … guess what? There’s hope people! That’s really what I’m trying to say. Not all guys are idiots. However, my happiness is NOT predicated on finding the one and only conscious single man (over thirty-five please) in Los Angeles.
And, I’m getting published! Why? Because my writing time is no longer squeezed into a few hours on weekends, or in between a gajillion activities for the boys.
AND, my boys’ health and happiness is not contingent upon me killing myself or spending money I don’t have.
So, in conclusion:
Less really is More.
Calm is the new Creative.
Real is the new Sexy.
Stillness paves the path to Consciousness.
Consistency is an Author’s Best Friend.
And Kindness has always been—and always will be—King.
Peace out y’all. Stay calm, find your center, stretch your legs, and I dare you to smile this week. Remember, each smile is an achievement to be proud of.
This picture is of me, March 21st, after a round of antibiotics had kicked in, relieving my pneumonia. Today, March 25th, I’m nearly 100% better. I can walk down the hill and back, but then need a nap. I am overly aware of how fortunate I am. My journey of self-isolating began weeks before California was mandated too: around Feb. 25th, a month ago. Bronchitis set in and I stopped teaching yoga at the hospital and also at a studio where I teach 5 classes weekly. Everything began to shift for me internally, spiritually, however, on the morning I woke my 18-year-old son urgently. I was coughing up blood. I needed his help. We decided to go to an urgent care, as my boss at the hospital had said the ER was slammed. In the urgent care, however, there were many people waiting to get in, some arriving from Europe, another from Egypt. I couldn’t stop coughing and I made my son wait in the car. I don’t think I realized the magnitude of the situation then. I do now. How fortunate am I to have been given antibiotics, and not been sent to the ER to be tested?? My Dr. told me it would be a risk to go to the ER now. I needed to behave as if I had COVID, take the antibiotics, isolate. If the antibiotics worked, I’d be okay. In reality, I could have tested positive. My boys had returned from Switzerland and England with their dad Feb. 23. Their dad and his girlfriend live in New York and travel the world nonstop. This family easily could have been infected with COVID 19. If I had tested positive, I might have been hospitalized and been isolated from my sons.
It occurred to me, a few days later, as I was editing a manuscript in bed and listening to them trying to cook, fending for themselves, that this could have been a complete disaster. Had I been hospitalized and separated from them, there were no plans, nothing set in place to protect/help them. My oldest son didn’t have enough money to handle this situation or buy food for himself and his little brother. He didn’t know how to access the accounts that I have. He didn’t know where my life insurance policy was. His dad should not fly here from Manhattan. It was ground zero for COVID19. It would not be a good idea for him to get on a plane, risk others, and come here, risking the boys.
It’s funny how all my life I have lived with a deep sense of the importance of serving others—perhaps to justify my existence, my worth. I learned this from my mother, a child-protective services social worker and avid volunteer. Yet, serving others to the point that I’m not taking optimal care of myself or my boys, makes zero sense. I have been a FT single mother for 11 years. You’d think I would have this down by now. But, in retrospect, I had been teaching far too much yoga, missing dinners, missing homework times with my sons, now 11 and 18. I had been tackling far too many writing / editing assignments with corporate clients, forgetting my novels, my raison d’etre. Why? Because I thought I needed the money and needed to serve. But in reality, I’ve learned from this time of extreme isolation, that I could have just trimmed my finances to adjust to my priorities. Since I have been isolating and the boys have been home-schooling, we have given up all the extras: hair appointments, Starbucks, dinners out, babysitters, gym membership, all of the expensive kids activities such as martial arts, violin lessons, volleyball. We have been forced to give this all up due to social distancing. And do you know what? We don’t really miss it. My oldest misses soccer, but at least that was free :).
Since I have been in isolation, I have taken on all that intimidated me in the past. I did an audit of my accounts. My financial adviser was far too conservative and earned way too much in fees. An account with him had earned zero in three years. Bull years at that! I transferred all of it out and am now making my own decisions, my own trades. I have up-dated all of my accounts too, putting my sons as equal beneficiaries. All of this information, and some cash, is in the locked safe. My oldest knows how to access all of this. I have said no to my boss at the yoga studio, who wanted me to record classes. I tried to record one yoga class, but was too winded and it took me and my son over 3 hours between shooting it and then editing it and it still wasn’t that good due to audio issues. My time is valuable. If I have little time here, I need to focus on what matters: my boys and my writing. One manuscript is edited again, another I am working on this week. All three manuscripts will be in my lock box as well.
If I get sick again, we now have a plan. My oldest will be in charge and he will not fly to see his dad (who left NYC and is now isolating in a Tennessee mountain cabin) for at least two weeks – wait and see how they are feeling and how his dad is feeling. Our garage has enough food for a week. He has money to go shopping.
For now, I am focussed 100 percent on this family and on my well-being and on my writing, the reason why I am here. I have audited out all the distractions. I have always meditated daily, but now am meditating twice daily. We will get though this. I firmly believe that we are all spiritual beings living a physical existence. Those who die from COVID19 will still exist. And they will be surrounded by unconditional love. I have never been afraid to die. But I am fearful for my boys to be alone, not supported, and to feel scared. There is only so much that is within my control.
Today, I am grateful for the reminder that self care, is equal to self love. During meditation, this is the affirming message I received: The love you seek to attract, the compassion you hope to attract, starts within. Love yourself. Care for yourself. Care for your family. It begins here, then will ripple outward miraculously.
I started NavigtingVita after spending part of a summer in Tuscany—my first break in nearly two years from single parenting. My mother, who lived far away, was dying from early-onset Alzheimer’s, and my soon-to-be ex-husband was off in London. I was taking care of our three-year-old and nine-year-old solo, and trying not to fall apart. This was my venture back into blogging, after helping launch and edit for RealGirlsMedia, a San Francisco-based women’s blogging venture. And, being a journalist for so many years, I missed the writing. I interviewed parenting and divorce experts, authors of all kinds, psychologists, single mom business executives. I landed spots on Dr. Drew’s Lifechanger’s Show, as well HuffPost regarding parenting. This site began as a way to navigate through divorce and full time single parenting with a sense of humor, and ideally, with some grace. Ten years later, I am still a full-time single parent of a 10-year-old & a 17-year-old. But it is not how I define myself. I am also a freelance journalist and author of three novels, my 4th on its way. My 600 hours of yoga teacher training has helped me breathe, find peace and acceptance with my life, give up drinking, and keep writing my novels. This is how I see my future: writing, yoga, and travel. I’m excited about my yoga & writers retreat in Tuscany May 2020! (DM me, or go to yogainitaly.com to sign up!) AND, that my novel Between Thoughts of You is being considered for publication by the publishing house of my dreams. 🙂 What I’ve learned, however, is that the journey is really the reward. I love diving into characters, finding strength and wisdom in their adventures and choices, and love the connective awareness I feel when someone else whispers their thoughts into my mind, that finds its way to the pages. I’m never alone when I write. It’s a miraculous feeling. What I know for sure, is that I will keep writing novels, and they will be self-published if the right publishing house doesn’t emerge. It’s what I do. And I want to help other writers find their way past fear to keep on writing too—what breath, meditation, and yoga has helped me to do. It’s a humbling process to keep going, while accepting my own limitations. In order to get better as a writer, I have to keep writing and find the space to do so. With that in mind, next year I am moving to Maui! I have found a boarding school there with a science and math focus to help my brilliant son. I will live close by and see him every day when I’m in town, but will also be able to travel to promote my books when I need to do so. Single parents have to find solutions that work to allow them to focus on, and expand their careers. It’s a delicate balancing act that I’m finally giving myself permission to pursue. I’m excited about this next venture. AND the yoga & writers retreats I’ll be sure to host in Maui! 🙂
SO…with my focus solely on writing and on yoga & writers retreats, I have decided to take back my original byline and maiden name: Laura K Roe. Navigating Vita will disappear in a few weeks time. Please visit LauraKRoe.com to find excerpts of my novels, travel schedule, and yoga & writers retreat and workshop information.
Thank you so much for reading my words and being a part of this miraculous journey.
B.T.W. (Breathe. Travel. Write.) Yoga & Writer’s Retreats may just be what you need to get inspired! I’m excited to announce my next retreat: May 23-30, 2020 in Tuscany, co-led with Literary Agent and Author Paula Munier. Retreat location is near Lucca and Cinque Terre at the estate Il Borhino. Interested? We have 18 spots. Send me a note and I’ll provide pricing details. You have plenty of time to save miles for a flight! After an initial deposit, payment plans are possible for this intimate retreat that includes daily yoga classes, all meals (vegan & gluten-free on request), writing and publishing workshops, as well as the opportunity for consultations and chapter reviews. Lets do this. You are worth it. XO
… So, what are you waiting for? Hope to see you soon! 🙂
I snapped this picture three years ago when hiking up Machu Picchu. It’s just like me to stoop down and notice ferns peaking up out of weathered, ancient stones that are stomped on by thousands of tourists. The baby ferns growing between the cracks get stepped on daily by hundreds of people clad in hiking boots as they race up to the top to see ‘the vista’ everyone comes to Machu Picchu for. Yet the ferns continue to grow, like a gift of forgiveness to those who crush them. Cracks are beautiful. And people who show their cracks to the world are a blessing for those of us who try to hide our own.
I shot pictures of wild orchids peaking out from dead tree branches too. I’m obsessed with fragile beauty. It is vulnerable. It is hopeful. It is a living example of gentle strength that I hope to embody.
An orchid blooming from a downed tree branch, is surviving—and blooming—against staggering odds. It encourages me to try to bloom where I am right now, no matter the circumstances, no matter how many times I have failed in the past, no matter the risks. To continue to bloom for a short, trying period, is an expression of gratitude for this tenuous life. It humbles me to see it. After failure or rejection, I tend to bury myself in my covers for days. I want to hide from the world. But to hide is a form of shame or fear. I can’t be seen if I hide. I can’t be rejected either. I may be safe, but I can not let you see me. There is no way you can see my flaws, or feel my love, or understand my fears, or even read my writing for that matter. Nor can I experience you, if I hide where you can’t find me.
So even though I’d rather not emerge in an authentic way—I’d rather not take the risk of failure or rejection—I will remember what nature teaches me. Every attempt to grow, to bloom, to show up, to keep going, is an act of faith, and love, and gratitude. If I can accept my cracks, and my fragile life exactly as it is right now, beautiful things may begin to emerge beneath the surface—that were likely there within me all along.
Keep going friends. And please encourage those who are striving despite the odds. Love those who show up in your life who are vulnerable and who reveal their imperfections. They are the ones who will accept you, as you are, and give your heart wings.
“This is love: to fly toward a secret sky, to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment. First to let go of life. Finally, to take a step without feet.” ~ Rumi
“Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow.” ~ Melody Beattie
“Beauty without Grace, is the hook without the bait. ” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
“The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places.” ~ Ernest Hemingway
“Forgiveness is not always easy. At times, it feels more painful than the wound we suffered, to forgive the one that inflicted it. And yet, there is no peace without forgiveness.” ~ Marianne Williamson
Please note my new yoga teaching schedule changes:
* 6 a.m. 1 HR Hot Yoga, Beyond Bikram Hermosa Beach
* 4:15 p.m. Yin/Yang (part restorative, part balance/ Iyengar, non-heated, all levels, seniors encouraged. Malaga Cove, Rancho Palos Verdes (dm me if interested)
* 6:15 p.m. Pre-natal Torrance Memorial Medical Center, near ER. (dm me if interested, recurring 8 week series, however, drop-in upon request.)
Yup. I’m writing another novel. And it feels like I’m seven months pregnant while taking care of a toddler who is scooting every which way dangerously while learning to walk. My novel Between Thoughts of You is currently with a publisher and an agent (who are both considering it). I’ve worked so hard on it between December and March, re-editing the manuscript after so much input received from writers, publishing house editors, and agents at The New York Pitch. (I’ve been to a few writers’s conferences, but attending the Algonkian is like garnering a PhD in publishing in five days. It is that intense, informative, and humbling. Advice from Paula Munier was just brilliant.)
So, while Between Thoughts of You is with an agent and a publisher, I just can’t sit around getting into fear and anxiety over whether a Big 5 pub will pick it up or not. So I’m writing again. My next book is nothing like my previous three. It is written in the first person. It is a double psychological mystery with twists and turns until a surprising convergence at its end. It contains elements of the metaphysical, but they are not sensed until the later half of the book. The basis for Orbiting Jupiter is how sudden trauma and grief can alter the brain in significant ways—sometimes projecting us into other dimensions. By that I mean, something miraculous can be birthed from being blindsided, if you allow it. The blunt knowledge that NOTHING in your life is as you thought it was, or as it was taught to you—can explosively open up your mind to possibilities never considered.
Said in another way: When no one in your life is as they portray themselves to be, how do you then navigate previous rules for trust and engagement? Maybe what we see and hear and touch is no longer an accurate portrayal of reality. Maybe there are different elemental laws of physics, like an internal compass tapping into an invisible source, to steer you onto your true path. What is there to lose? When clergy, parents, friends, lovers, co-workers, etc… betray, violently pursue their greed, wield control at any expense, criticize those who dare to be different, worship wealth—and are still considered the gold standard for ethics and morality within society—what kind of society is that? When a person crashes into the dust of that harsh ‘reality,’ if they don’t fall prey to drugs and alcohol, other worlds can slowly begin to surface. Surprising psychic doors can open, shifting awareness. Visions into other eras, distant dimensions, alternate lives—can emerge.
If a person is discovered in this expansive state of consciousness, that western medicine and science can’t explain, he may be placed under psychiatric care. His state of mind, or explained experiences, may be defined under the umbrella of exhaustion, mental collapse or psychotic episodes. I’m fascinated by documented stories where people suddenly remember a stranger’s life with utter clarity, as if it had been their own. There are cases of amnesia after extreme stress, that compellingly show how a traumatized mind alters in order to enter into a less stressed, livable state. I’m just as intrigued by stories of children of abusive parents, or within violent foster homes, who develop telepathic abilities, or empathic skills to alert them about their care-givers next moves—like Darwinian traits sharpened or re-engaged to help them survive dangers at home.
I love this phase of writing. I don’t love the phase of pitching, marketing, and stressing about getting published. It’s part of the process, so all my author friends tell me. But I prefer this one. The one of creating, researching, writing the story. I do hope that Between Thoughts of You, my previous novel, gets picked up, develops legs and runs. But until then, I’ll complete Orbiting Jupiter.
The idea of self-publishing keeps getting presented to me, however, I’ll put that on a shelf for now. It’s an over-whelming concept for me that sucks all the creativity out of my soul. I don’t see how I can keep writing and creating if I’m over-seeing printing, marketing, self-promotion, distribution, sales, etc. while also being a present full-time single mom who has other jobs to pay the rent. Right? So I’ve decided to finish this next novel before entertaining the self-publishing prospect. For now, I’ll keep creating and will see where it takes me. It’s the only reality that fits my life.
Here is my latest cover article for Pulse Magazine. I write for a lot of magazines, so why am I posting this one on my blog? Because it is for a traditional hospital publication. It reiterates what I’ve known for a long time. There is now NO doubt that yoga, meditation and a gratitude practice lengthens life, improves health, boosts mental outlook, and reduces pain and the intensity of disease. I love when I get the chance to write, research, and interview experts on topics I’m passionate about. I began doing yoga and meditating more than 10 years ago due to a bad back, a nasty divorce, and the stress of rearing a baby and a young son solo. The journey has helped me battle auto-immune disease and dark moments. I have taken multiple yoga trainings and now teach, while also free-lance writing. My life is more positive. I feel joy on the daily. I am more patient and more present with my boys. And I see how much yoga has helped my yoga students who are in pain from cancer or arthritis or injuries.
Now physicians and scientists in the West confirm what I have felt and seen through many studies conducted at Harvard, the Centers for Disease Control, UCLA and elsewhere. Some studies showed how meditation and a gratitude practice helped to reduce cancer tumors and/ or the intensity of pain and side-effects from cancer treatments such as chemo or radiation. Other studies showed an increase in memory from meditation. Others showed how meditation, especially, increased the capacity for joy and reduced depression.
One day I envision an America where therapeutic yoga and meditation classes will be a standard benefit offered within corporations and covered by medical insurance policies. Lowering stress means reducing toxic cortisol and glucagon hormones within the body. It is widely accepted within western medicine that cancer grows within acidic environments. It is also known that a flush in cortisol, (that happens when individuals are stressed or anxious or angry) causes the gut to not thoroughly digest vitamins and nutrients correctly. This flush of cortisol also tightens connective tissue which reduces the flow of our lymph system and makes us more vulnerable to the flu. Stress also increases inflammation, ramps up blood pressure, creates tension headaches, muscle spasms and even increases the chance of stroke and heart beat irregularity. Taking preventative care of ourselves ought to be a primary concern—and not just for the privileged and wealthy in this country. I’m glad to know that yoga and meditation is now taught at reduced rates in hospitals (where I also teach) and community centers, as yoga studios can charge high rates. Most yoga studios, however, will also offer low-fee community classes once a week, which I highly encourage people to try.
This was my home office in London when I was a Parenting editor working remotely for a San Francisco-based publishing house. I was the first editor there, so helped shape the entire webzine, then became the parenting and pregnancy editor. I was also freelancing for other magazines and newspapers. All I know is this: I produced here. I was inspired here. One of my New York colleagues said she didn’t know how I managed to edit nearly 15 freelancers and columnists, write my own articles, do research, read books to review, attend meetings remotely at various times of the day and night and find time to raise my son and freelance for others. But I did. And it seemed effortless. My days flew by. I was in the zone. The vista, over-looking our garden in Notting Hill, didn’t hurt. I’d see pigeons on the trees, neighbors walking dogs, and sometimes, in winter, without the abundance of leaves on the 200-year-old tress, I’d even see the London Wheel. During times of writers block, I’d just stare out the window and after a bit, (now I know I was meditating) it would elevate my consciousness, spark ideas, and lift my thinking to what is possible—and not that of anxiety and fears.
This office space, married with my strict daily routine, fostered the ability to crank out deadline after deadline. Since I’ve moved to Los Angeles, had a baby, got divorced shortly after, I’ve struggled with both my office space and a daily routine. I no longer have a dedicated office space, as I live in a small beach cottage, so the desk is in the den. I still freelance for magazines, companies, and publishing houses. I’ve written two novels. I’m not insane. I’m doing okay. But I haven’t had that dreamy office space and I struggle with a strict daily routine. I’m trying to re-create it as best as I can. But I tend to write in my bed, here. I like the privacy and being away from a frisky kitty, but it’s a horrible place to write! I have papers strewn everywhere. There is no white board or desk calendar. The den desk in Los Angeles is tight and I have to deal with my boys and my hyper kitten. I spent quite a bit of money to turn my one-car garage into an office, but it has termites and black widows and is scary. It’s not my perfect space. Yet, how much does it really matter? Didn’t I create from coffee shops and libraries when in New York?
While feeling frustrated about the situation, I recently re-read Bird by Bird, by Anne Lamott and The War of Art, by Steven Pressfield (These are must reads if you are a writer!) Both authors have amazing advice. Anne is humorous and I adore her candor and wit. Steven gives staggeringly revealing advice about the physics of fear. With that said, both agree writers over think it. We just need to write, wherever we can, every day. Yup. Create that daily habit and, as Steven said: “Put your ass where your heart wants to be.”
“If you want to write, plant your backside in front of the typewriter. Don’t get up from the chair, no matter how many brilliantly-plausible reasons your Resistance-churning brain presents to you. Sooner or later your fingers will settle onto the keys. Not long after that, I promise, the goddess will slip invisibly but powerfully into the room. That’s the trick. There’s nothing more to it.”
Although I miss having a designated office to write in, I will get my ass in the chair, not write in bed. (Even on days when I have autoimmune flare-ups). And, I will imagine that I am still a full-time editor at a publishing house, on daily deadlines, only taking breaks for the occasional yoga class that I teach or for a beach walk to garner inspiration from the Pacific.
I may no longer have the vista across London, but I can create that space in my mind— that feeling of expansion—and give thanks for this moment, this reality that flows with my words as I channel gratitude, guides, characters, universal angst onto the keys and into my next novel. And it all starts with simply putting my ass in the chair.
AloneTogether: Single Moms Support Group (This is a closed group, please say you found their site from me, Laura Roe Stevens, when requesting to join.)
The UCLA Family Commons: http://www.uclacommons.com/
Single Parent Housing: www.SPAOA.org
Pell Grants For Mothers: PellGrants.ClassesAndCareers.com