A Tiny Way

Why are we here, in this place, in this singular place, embarking on a practice, why would we choose to sit and write when there are kites to fly and dishes to wash and dogs to scritch under the chin? Because there is something that pulls us to writing. It woos us from across the room.

Writing is, for me, the way that I have learned to interact with something beyond myself. Honestly, it makes me uncomfortable to say that. I know that my beloved physics-philosophy-rational friends just rolled their eyes, and I really want to be in with that crowd. Even so, I must admit that there are moments when I am writing when things seem to flow through me. I have heard it said that being a writer is nothing more than being willing to sit down and open a vein for the reader. That might be true for some. Perhaps. For me, writing has indeed been a matter as intimate as life’s-blood, but it flows the other way. Sometimes, if I am able to get out of my own way, I feel more like I am sitting at my dear writing table, capturing words that rise up all around me and being filled with life. How? I don’t know. It doesn’t live in the rational place where logic and reason have labeled all of the shelves. It is, much to my annoyance, outside my control.

This might be a good place to offer this disclaimer: I consider writing to be a spiritual practice in an entirely universal way. There is no doctrine or creed to which writing is beholden. I am a practicing Christian, so many of my examples will come from this background. I will also be presenting the material in the form of a pilgrimage (also a spiritual practice not tightly bound to one tradition). If you are challenged or confused by my spiritual language, feel free to translate to something you understand. What I find compelling about writing practice is how it connects me to the driving impulse of the universe. I call that grace. I don’t mind if you call it something else.

I have not designed this course to help you write and publish the next great American novel or  achieve enlightenment or garner literary immortality. This is your invitation to writing practice. To place the nib of your pen on a blank expanse and write down what rises within you. What happens in you through this practice isn’t my business (or, frankly, yours). You are here to practice. If I am right, and writing (as a spiritual practice) comes from the-vital-impulse-of-the-universe-which-I-call-grace, you will be steeping yourself in the ongoing creation of the universe (if I just lost you and you want to talk more about this, please contact me). Whatever it is, it certainly seems worth doing.

How, exactly, could writing practice be a pilgrimage? Well, it turns out that writing practice isn't a destination, a word count, or a paper to turn in. Writing practice is a process. Pilgrimage is a willingness to put your foot on the road, not knowing where you will be swept off to, for the purpose of being transformed. Writing practice is a pilgrimage.

I invite you to enter a four week guided writing pilgrimage with me. I have no idea where you are and where you will end up. It is a risk. Something or nothing might happen. Do you want to come? 

Yes?

Great!

Each segment will have a navigation section like the one below. Please click on the next segment (in this case, “Week 0 Instructions”) to go on. If you prefer, you can use the “Next” button at the very bottom of the page.