Turning Down the Noise: February Edition
Quick tips for slowing down, new essay about dreams & freedom from blackouts, & an upcoming reading!
Happy Sunday, Dear Readers!
Deep gratitude to everyone who subscribed to this newsletter!
Unsurprisingly, keeping the noise turned down while also getting this up and running has been challenging. It was so exciting that so many of you signed up; I also found myself online waaaay more than usual. Tight jaw, tense forehead, tired eyes. You know.
So how to balance desired solitude and silence with sharing and connecting online?
We’ve been talking about this in my writing classes. Here are some of the quick tips my students and I discussed, for focusing and thinking deeply without interruption:
· leave your phone in another room; if you don’t have the privilege of extra space, leave it somewhere you can’t reach
· don’t go to your phone first thing in the morning; try doing your writing (or other coveted activity, like meditating or walking) first; I’m a morning writer and this is key for me!
· turn off Wi-Fi on your computer the night before
· dance! listen to music! move your body if you can! do something other than the creative work, especially when you feel stuck
· watch a dog roll around in the grass; watch your cat take the stairs two back feet at a time (my favorite morning activity, on my way to the kitchen for coffee)
· really use that do not disturb option on your phone, if you have it
What are your strategies for turning down the noise and cultivating deep, creative thinking? Share yours in the comments!
For more than a year, my answer was: no social media + literally moved away from the city. In future posts, I’ll write more about what that time away gifted me, and how it was financially feasible, but for today I’ll share a few of those gifts: slower thoughts, longer focus on my creative work, and less concern with how I was perceived.
During my time away from social media and cities, I was working solely on rewriting my book. I’d had a breakthrough with my memoir and decided to turn down the noise more than I ever had, which meant hunkering down to do that work (in Fairfield, IA, and at fully-funded artist residencies like The Helene Wurlitzer Foundation in Taos, NM). This was the first time in ten years that I stopped submitting my writing for publication, stopped seeing my words through the lens of others (well, as much as that’s ever possible). It was scary. I’d relied on that feeling of accomplishment, completion, and external validation for many years. But stepping away allowed me to deepen my authentic sense of self. It was really good for me to decrease the number of people validating (or not validating) my work. That validation had to come from me.
I take this wisdom with me now as I return to connecting online . (What I definitely don’t have is up-to-date social media skills; thank you to the friend who showed me how to post a link in Instagram stories! LOL).
Late last fall, I returned to submitting my work. I’m excited to share an essay that was published this week, but first—
I was a guest speaker in Kat Gonso’s creative writing class at Northeastern University last week (thanks so much for inviting me!), where students asked fantastic questions. One of those questions reminded me why I’m emerging from my writing cave:
· To help other people by sharing my work
· To connect, especially now that I live in a new state, away from old friends
· To allow readers to bear witness to my stories (thank you to my dear friend Jennifer Funk, author of this gorgeous poetry collection, for reminding me about the role of witness, when I was unsure if I’d ever submit my writing again).
So, with a renewed sense of purpose, here’s the first essay I’ve published in three years. Three!
You can read it here: “Through the Threads”
Shout out to my writing group, “The Nonfiction Narwhals,” for your wise suggestions on an early draft! And to Hunger Mountain Review for publishing it.
And thanks to @SarahHepola for writing Blackout, which I briefly mention in my essay.
Warning: mention of sexual trauma toward the end of the short piece.
Please feel free to share the essay & this post, and to respond in the comments. I look forward to responding to your thoughts!
Upcoming Event: AWP Off-Site Reading, 2/10 @ 3pm
I’ll be connecting with friends old and new, and working to turn down the noise, at AWP next week—a VERY big writing conference, loud and overwhelming, but also instructive and inspiring.
I’ll be reading my work on Saturday, 2/10, at 3pm. If you’re headed to AWP, join us!
Okay, one last set of quick tips! If you’ll be at the conference (any conference really) and aren’t drinking alcohol (like me), here are some tips for having fun and learning a lot at while staying clear:
Just because you’re not drinking doesn’t mean you can’t go to parties! Parties can be extra fun (and fascinating) when you’re not drinking; have a backup alcohol-free drink of choice on hand in case you get antsy. Real talk: you will probably, eventually, be less anxious without the alcohol!
Phone a friend or skip the party if it’s just feeling like too much. Comment below when in doubt! I’ll happily reply when I can.
JOMO. The joy of missing out! It’s incredibly empowering to say no, rather than fear you’re missing out. Imagine your bed, your cozy cup of tea, your cat cuddled beside you…or perhaps your favorite book or TV show.
REMEMBER HOW GOOD THE MORNING IS GONNA FEEL!!! Nothing like it. Truly. Thank your body; your body thanks you.
Thank you for reading this far, friends! I wish you a quiet morning if you’re relishing some solitude, and an energizing one if you’ve already ventured out into the world.
Please post any questions you have in the comments and I’ll answer them (and this applies not just to my students reading this!).
A dopamine hit for the road:
With gratitude,
Caitlin
I liked Through the Threads, especially the metaphor of the threads of the coat and the threads of the dreaming; how each has torn and old pieces of the past and yet in rediscovering them, being present with them, those pieces call forth healing. ~Elaine