I've been writing a bit less due to other commitments, and I've noticed my writing start to atrophy a bit.
It's like the wire that goes from somewhere in my mind to my fingers has started to fray. It's a bit clumsy.
I have a notion in my head but the words that translate to just... don't have that same feeling of what I was looking for.
How we put ideas together in our heads, from nothing to something, is beyond me.
But it made me think about my process.
I realize now that a key part of my writing is that of having space.
It is space that creates my best ideas and writing. Or rather, ideas and writing need space to exist below the surface of the mind.
And so here is the practice: It's just like meditation.
You sit down, on your computer or with paper, and you simply wait. You sit and you wait.
Then, after some time (short, if you've been writing a lot lately, or long, if not) you will have something bubble up to the surface.
You write that thing down, or you recognize that it's not THE thing, and you let it pass.
You wait, something arrives, you write it down or you let it pass.
At some point, if you've given yourself enough space, enough time away from distraction, enough silence...
A "good" idea comes along. But it's not that it's a "good" idea, rather it's just "right." You just know that's what you're supposed to add, so you add it. And then things may flood in, in which case you just let them all out onto the page, doing your best to keep open a space for the writing to be there.
Sometimes it will stop again, in which case you repeat the process.
Great writing needs space. You can't force it, and most times I don't know what I'm thinking until I let it show up on the page.
Like a great conversation, it's unplanned but only happens if you don't crowd it out.
I don't know how else to describe it.
Or maybe I do.