Category: Writing

Food For Thought, Inpsiration, Journal, Writing

A Tough Reminder

Sanjay Sabarwal
Photo by Mike Petrucci on Unsplash

This year, I made a commitment with a few others to do The Artist’s Way by Julie Cameron. It’s an amazing book about releasing your creative energy and efforts towards goals I keep telling yourself that one, maybe one day, I will get to.

With the beginning of 2019, it made perfect sense to make that some day, one day, into today. I have read the Artist’s Way before and one of its main tenets or laws so speak are to do Morning Pages by hand every day. The first time few times, I read the book I elected to type my Morning Pages, reasoning that my handwriting is terrible. Yet the morning pages are not meant to be shared, they are just to unblock creativity. And while I was diligent about doing them daily, I have to say it felt a bit mechanical. The other thing is that Morning Pages need to be the first thing one does when you wake up. It is to get access to your inner creativity without criticism.

And so this year, as much as I resisted it, I began writing my hand. I have to tell you, as a former stroke and a brain bleed patient, my handwriting has gone from terrible to horrendous. It hit me that what I resisted is the reminder that I am not whole, that each day is a blessing because of medication I take daily. With each activity that I take on, including crossfit, running, hiking or raquetball, I forget that I am not a 100% healthy person. I am beyond blessed for the opportunities I have been afforded in my life, yet writing my Morning Pages allowed me to grieve a bit.

To let go of old pain, memories that no longer serve me, to process so much of what I buried and pretended never happened.  I struggle to get the words out sometimes, and then there are days I ask myself what the hell am I doing. Yet each morning, I take out my notebook, sit in the morning quiet and just begin writing. Anything. Everything. Lists. To do tasks, thoughts about others, judgements. It is a brutal place as I connect to this constant river of thoughts and feelings, and it hit me that this goes on all day long.

What stories am I reinforcing? What self-limiting beliefs am I cultivating?  How much of my time is spent on “busy” work that does nothing but just that, keeps busy and not dealing with my life.  And so I sit, sort, sift and pray for clarity. Doing the Morning Pages has not become an act of purging. And the well runs deep.

 

Food For Thought, Inpsiration, Journal, Writing

Nanowrimo and Writing

Sanjay Sabarwal

On November 30, I managed to write 50,100 words which under Nanowrimo meant I had written a novel in 30 days.  Yet I also know that those words will never see the light of day. You see, all of writing is revision, yet what I wrote not only is beyond revision, it was also not my intent. I used Nanowrimo to force the cobwebs off my brain, and recreate the habit of writing daily. I wanted to get the joy back into creating a fictional story, to go into a world of my creation where I was God.

As time goes by, I realize that one of the things I discard easily is my habit of daily writing. Reason being is, it is just too hard to sit there day by day to create something and because I Am a panster (someone who makes it up as he goes along), it feels as if I am wasting time. That I could be doing something else of meaning. And so I convinced myself to stop writing, yet there wasn’t a day that I didn’t think about it. And then it hit me that just like being a lawyer, the real reason for giving up was fear. What if I wasn’t good enough, what if no one read my stuff, what if I was a failure. And that insecurity convinced me to let go of writing.

Yet I never really wrote for others. I wrote for myself, and if others read then, it was an added bonus. Getting readership or being published has never been my goal (although it would nice) because when I wrote daily, it helped me to get what was inside me, out. I wrote because it helped me make sense of my world. And so I am grateful for Nanowrimo for rekindling that joy in me.

Happy Monday!

Food For Thought, Journal, Writing

A Challenge

Sanjay Sabarwal

“Why should I read your stuff? What do I get for giving up my time to read your story? Where are you going to submit your stuff?” Recently a friend asked me these questions, and I kind of hemmed and hawed my way out of answering of them. But the questions lingered, but not for their content but their assumption. I have never written for others The fact that I am blessed enough that others read me has never entered into my equation into the things that I write about.

My writers critique group sometimes has asked me to write fiction better (namely because I am not good at it), but their gist is the same as any writer. It’s a lonely field, namely because of many of us write for ourselves. I use writing to make sense of my world, emotions or thoughts. I haven’t thought about publishing or putting my work out there, yet.

2018 will be the year I finish some works that have been long in the making, and I commit to begin submitting pieces to contests and periodicals each quarter. My goal is to finish one essay a month. Wish me luck!

Happy Monday!

Writing

Book Worm

Sanjay Sabarwal

ba7c8407ff1fe72c2ad88c38d57b1c22There’s nothing like the glow of the morning light drifting into my library. In this calm. I look around to see myself surrounded by books, and it hits me that my love for reading came from my mom, and I am eternally grateful. That love allowed me access so much information, entertainment and knowledge. It gave me new habits, new perspective, and appreciation of different viewpoints. But most of all, it gives me story whether real or made up. It fills in gaps in my life in a way that e-readers, social  media and computers have never been able to. Holding a physical book and flipping pages is just so damn satisfying.

I look at my growing pile of unread books. Each time, I go to a bookstore, I cannot help but pick up another book as if to mark that I still go to book stores. Yet there is more to it. This love for reading words has served me for a long time, and it’s something I sometimes forget until I pick up a book. Recently, my focus has been non-fiction and learning new things yet there is not denying the pleasure in reading the latest Stephen King or John Grisham. Just being in a world of imagination. That’s what my library represents to me, and it motivates me to perhaps be some day part of that group as a published writer. Some Day.

Family, Inpsiration, Journal, MITT, Writing

Awake to Write

Sanjay Sabarwal

Darkness veils the upcoming day outside. Yet I hear it waking up. The deep quietness of the night passed a while ago.I know because I woke up before to hear nothing but deep silence.  I don’t need to look at my clock to know it’s before 6am. Muffled bird chirps reach my ears.  I groggily ask myself for the 1000th time, do I really want to wake up?  I already know the answer, hell yea.  The voice recedes, and I sit up. The dog instantly at alert, it’s walking time! I wish I could tell her that she has to wait, that I have first I have to invest in myself. So in goes the protein shake, and I head to the library. I can no longer say I don’t have time to write. I now have two hours that I are devoted to creating words, and they don’t just stop there. I also turned off my inner editor. For now, I write till I can write no more and instead of sitting there with my fingers poised over my keyboard either deleting what I wrote earlier or bemoaning that I am out of ideas, I keep open several times. A story, an essay and now a blog post.  I heard that from a Timothy Ferris podcast in which one of the participants suggested there is no such thing as writers block, just that for now you had run out to say something for the current piece. So you keep moving.

Oh yeah, and a timer. Because no matter what I need a reminder that this is my time to write. And I can choose to waste it or make something out it because once the bell rings it’s dog walking time. This routine just started, and already it feels like this is something I should have done ages ago. The reality is, there is time to do everything you desire. The question will always be how early do you want to get up to fit it in. I can either be complacent and complaining about the lack of time, or I can suck it up, wake up and get to it. Either way, it’s the life I create for myself. For me, that means being a writer, one who writes daily.

What will you do to make your dream come true?

Myself, Preeti, Writing

Lost Time

Sanjay Sabarwal

downloadWoke up at 730 am even though I woke up every few hours with the anxiety of an early interview as well as thoughts of what my life had become. Tossed and turned, each time closing my eyes then reaching for the phone only to discover only fifteen minutes had passed. Torture. I really wanted to get up and write first thing in the morning, but then the dog crawled up on to me. Bella knew I had a long day so didn’t want me to make her walk the first sacrifice of the day.  So off we went, me doing my prayers and her sniffing and pausing every so few seconds to straddle over dried dog shit ever so carefully so she could make it shitty all over again.  And then I had to meditate because that was a carefully crafted morning ritual then flossed (so far doing well on the New Years Resolution), then getting ready. A quick kiss to my wife and off I went.  A sudden craving for Starbucks and after all that I barely manage to get to work at 9:01am.  And then as I sit here, it hit me. I didn’t do the one thing that I think about every single day which is work on my writing.

My Nanowrimo novel patiently waits in my library. The 50,001 words know or hope that I will get to them. So far I am on page 9 of 25o. The revision is going excruciating slow. Then I also remember committing to a family friend that I would submit a short story that I revised by end of the month because that’s the one step I have never taken. So the lost time keeps building up. I lose time constantly, and it’s filled with regrets of things I should have said or done. A very important relationship in my life hangs precariously closing to shutting down because we cannot seem to find the time to figure things out. And so the time passes, and with each moment I feel a little less sure of myself, a little more lost, and then finally filled with regret.

I hope I do better tomorrow.