It’s that time of year up north where dawn merges with dusk.
By Solstice the length of our day will be about 3 hours and 40 minutes (10:58 to 2:40).
Luckily, I’ve come to love all the low-angle lighting that accompanies winter.
|Sometimes the forest is pink.|
My writing time is typically 5 to 6:30, then I need to get ready for work.
That darkness, at its best, is like a creative blanket wrapped around me.
At its worse it’s a yawn factory.
|Taken from my driveway.|
Obviously, you don’t need a long winter to be a writer. I guess what I’m saying is that by embracing what you have, you free up your energy to put into what is in front of you whether that is writing, or child care, or teaching, or anything really.
On the surface, it sounds simple, but I think it’s an ongoing challenge in mindfulness to be present enough to fully engage with what’s right in front of you. At least, it is for me.
|Taken from my deck.|
As a special education teacher I often have to go from meetings with parents, teachers, or administrators, or writing student goals right into teaching. Being able to turn off the previous task, even though it is often unfinished with a deadline attached to it, and focus on the students in front of me is key.
I try to approach my writing-time the same way, by closing the shutters on what is coming next in my busy day.
For whatever reason, winter brings this reflective side of me to the surface. The black windows I see when I look beyond my computer screen keep me focused, and the dawn-dusk lighting for the rest of the day, helps to keep me in a reflective space.
|On the power line just up the hill from our house.|
What do you do to access your creativity and stay in it? And/or, what do you do to make it more likely you’ll be more present with what is in front of you?
In book news, Surviving Bear Island is now available in an EBook and the Hard Cover is having a Second Printing.