Writing Prompt #10: This week is all about honoring your present experience. One of the most potent exercises in my creative toolbox - and the one that's deeply in tune with honoring the present moment - is stream-of-consciousness free-writing. This week, take 10-15 minutes to ground yourself in the present moment. Feet firmly grounded on the floor, breaths deep and steady. Then, pen to paper (because that's where the real rawness of the moment comes through), write about whatever comes up. Emotions. Reflections. Thoughts. Vivid details about the room you're in or how you're feeling in your body.
Don't let the pen leave the page. Just write your heart.
If you want to share it, you can take a photo of your journal, type it up in the comments below, or send me an email. Or, if you're feeling particularly bold and courageous, share it on the Kate K. McCarthy Facebook page.
Whatever is coming up for you in this moment is worthy of honoring. Write your heart, love.
Taking a page from my journal.
Originally written on the pages of my spiral-bound personal journal, when I sat down to write on this week's prompt, this is what showed up for me.
Ok, breathe. Honor what is. Tether yourself to the present moment and breathe through it. What comes is neither right or wrong. It just is. It just... is.
What comes up is change. Change. Change. Change.
Right now, we're in the midst of a huge transition. For me, it's moving back home. For P, it's moving in with the in-laws. Different kinds of difficult, but still the same. All kinds of shit shows up. Shame. Sadness. Missing what was. Craving what might be. Struggling to place ourselves squarely in the present moment. Moving through the challenges and changes to find what's ours, what feels good, what feels expansive and whole and aligned. Arguing more. Communicating more. Expectation. Reality. Possibility.
What is is pretty great. A new home, a new set of transitions and challenges, yes. But, also, a new set of opportunities. Sunlight streaming through the windows. Nature at our fingertips. Room for the dog to play outside and the cats to lay in the warmth of the sunstreaked carpets. New places to explore and a new depth to understanding each other in the midst of transition.
Interestingly what comes up is not what I'm missing most these days, it's what I get to experience and express these days. Like coffee on the balcony or evenings grilling outside. A new set of things to be grateful for.
What is is pretty beautiful. It's green and lush and ripe with possibility. My hope is that P can see it, too.
Sigh. Hurt and hope and more. All residing inside my heart right now.