Recently, I learned some things about my writing energy which seemed to have reached an all time low.
They surprised me. So I thought that some other writers might find my experience helpful. Or at least interesting,
As many readers know, I sometimes go off into the countryside as a Birdwatcher’s Companion. He’s a great chap to walk the hills with, knowledgeable and generous when I ask about plants and wildlife
But he’s also happy for me to go off into my own little fantasy world, if that’s where the mood takes me.
I really love going into sometimes quite
No matter how tired I am when we start, it seems that I always come back with my writing energy renewed and a spring in my step.
Writing Energy Lost
So on this trip, I was more than tired. I was drained.
Writing Energy Stirs
Why?
Well, I think at this stage it was partly because I had to watch my step. Quite literally. Otherwise I would have fallen into a ditch. Focused the mind wonderfully, that did.
And, just like that, my perspective shifted. It was like a shot of adrenaline.
Forest Bathing?
“Like Forest Bathing,” he said. He didn’t sound enthusiastic.
I had vaguely heard of forest bathing. Shinrin-yoku is a nature therapy invented in Japan were it is much practised by burned-out city types. Anyway, I nodded.
But since I’ve been home, I’ve looked it up and I think I should probably have repudiated the suggestion with word and deed.
A San Francisco group go into the woods and examine their every reaction to the natural world in minute detail, They end up passing a maraca from hand to hand and Affirming their enhanced wellbeing. The author is aware only of “creeping unease”.
Confirmed tree-hugger though I am, I’d have been right with him, there. (Read it. It’s a hoot.)
Writing Energy from Listening, Watching, Waiting
Aragorn took us to the place where one had been sighted. He broadcast a call. We stood and scanned the trees very, very carefully, in near silence. Nothing stirred. I thought I heard a distant cry that might have been a response but was too unconfident to say so. We waited some more. Nobody was impatient. We didn’t speak much.
And then something came in over the tree line. And yes, that was definitely the right soprano call. (This is apparently Europe’s smallest owl. Think an avian choirboy with freckles.) It sat on the very top of a pine and looked about it. In the scope it was – well – charming. Not something a birdwatcher would say. But by now I had reconnected with my imagination and, for me, it was definitely charming.
It called a lot. “Is that a territorial ‘keep off’ or a lonely hearts ‘wanna date’?” I asked Aragorn. He grinned. “Both. Like us.” The man was a realist.
Each way of looking showed me something different. It was a revelation.
I had to concentrate, of course. But it was out of sheer fascination and delight. There was no horrible wheel in my head going “I must concentrate; I must concentrate” as there had been for months when I tried to write. If anyone had asked me how I felt watching the bird, I’d have said, “Lucky. Very, very lucky.”
Writing Energy from Surprise
Of course, you can’t absolutely count on birds to come, even when you send out alluring calls they will recognise. But with a knowledgeable guide, you’ve got a more than fifty-fifty chance. But sometimes you get the gift of something you neither called nor expected. Suddenly it’s just there.
First: the muskrat. We were standing on a wooden observation platform. Suddenly the lake rippled and there he was swimming strongly, busy and otter-like. We saw him for only a few seconds. I wanted to wave my arms above my head in sympathy.
Glacial erratics are bits of rock in the wrong place. They have been dumped there by the movement of prehistoric ice and are indicators of glacial routes. This one, as you see, has great character. Could well have auditioned for Frozen. (No, I didn’t say that.)
Writing Energy Renewed
Above all, I’ve been writing happily. And, I think, rather well. It’s flowing anyway, and I can’t wait to get back to my story in the morning. I’ve even got two projects on the go at the moment, and I’m having fun with both, in their different ways. Oh perspective, welcome back. How I love you!
And my blood pressure fell by 40 points. Doctor laughed like a drain.
Reasons for Writing Energy Revival?
- got me out of my head, with all those anxieties and self-blame, into acceptance of the way the cards fall
- showed me how to change perspective and recognise that each view is valuable
- reminded me that concentration is a way of being, not a task you do
- taken me back to experiencing the moment, instead of thinking about what to do next
- shown me new stuff
- reminded me that fresh air, trees and water are a joy
So my advice is, if you’re struggling with writing, see if you can spend some hours outside looking, listening, waiting and concentrating on what is immediately in front of you. You might even take a Birdwatcher. Good luck!
Lovely. Good advice, too!
Thank you, Maggie. Well, it worked for me, anyway. Out of the blue, too!
Excellent post. I like the ‘different ways of being’ idea.
It just came to me, Jan. And it felt right. So glad you like the post.
This is so interesting. We spend so much time glued to screens now. Getting out and looking at the world again helps you breathe, I think. Not so much inspiration as aspiration, if that’s the right word. Or inhalation? Looking out rather than in, getting out of our own heads. Great advice for us all.
Glad you enjoyed it, Liz. Cautious about offering advice, though. This is just one case study. Not sure it would work for everyone. But the forest and the birds have certainly bounced me out of some very, VERY bad habits. Long may I continue bounced!
What a great article. I was smiling all the way through. It had everything, including Aragorn, a charming owl, and a happy ending. Thank you.
Ah, thank you Susan. You know me – love those happy endings!
What an inspiring post, Sophie – thanks for sharing your experience and the lovely photos. Completely agree about getting out in nature and out of our own heads – it’s also filling (or restocking) our well of creativity.
Thank you Rosemary. I should have said that the lovely photos are by the Birdwatcher in my life. Should have credited him before! Sorry.
I agree with you. The nitty gritty of this one seems to be getting out of our own heads.
So glad it was so helpful – and although you can’t just nip out of the front door into a Finnish forest if the energy-ebb happens again, at least now you know to seek out the equivalent
I have to admit that I would not lightly undertake that journey again, Louise. Return plane vile, Helsinki airport unbelievably crowded, inefficient and stress-making. If the Birdwatcher wants to go again, I’m looking at trains!
But the New Forest should hit the spot.
Interim tree-hugging available in the park next to the Royal Hospital and Hyde or Battersea Parks. So I hope to stay on an even keel for foreseeable future at least.
Loved this. I could feel my own blood pressure going down as I read. Or, at least, I thought I could 😉 So glad you have found this new avenue to imagination, creativity and (dare I say?) serenity.
Love the idea of sympathetic blood pressure reduction! So pleased.
Serenity? Hmm. Maybe eventually. I have had flashes of it. Which is definitely a big step in the right direction.
Oh, Sophie, just reading your post was calming! What a lovely experience for you and I am so pleased it continues to have an effect. I love the images you conjure up with your words, especially the Just William freckled choirboy! Thank you for sharing this with everyone.
So glad you enjoyed it, Sarah. The freckled choirboy analogy was irresistible, the moment I saw him in the scope. Mind you, I picked up the snub nose of a beak even in the binoculars. He definitely lifted the heart.
Loved this. And I know what it’s like to lose the writing energy – I did for several months, for a variety of reasons. And suddenly, just this week (should that be last week?) it came back. Was it because I started working in the conservatory and garden? Could be. I’m more cheerful all round. I’m so glad you are, too. New Forest sounds good…
So glad your energy has come back, Lesley. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if getting your hands in the earth had played a part in it. Power to your trowel!
I love Finland. Glad it worked for you.
Thanks Susie. Finland was fantastic. We had a fabulous meal in a eco restaurant in the middle of the forest, too! Loved it all – except for horrible Helsinki airport.
But then all airports are variable degrees of hell to me these days. I overdosed on them when I was travelling lots for work and in the years since they seem only to have got worse.
Couldn’t agree more. These days I’m trying to restrict myself to destinations I can reach by train. Yes, it takes longer to get there, but it’s so much less stressful than ********* airports. Did a Germany trip last Autumn via Eurostar and TGV. Very enjoyable. Also less bad for climate crisis.
This is wonderful! I loved it! Long may it last for you.
A great piece, full of insight. It’s good to know your writing is back on track. Living in the middle of a forest I can confirm that getting out among the trees has a wonderfully therapeutic effect. That’s Alex and me, enjoying a wander in the woods in your third photograph! Where in the world did you find that? 🙂 I’ve never seen a pygmy owl, but we did have a Scops Owl visit here for a while. When I heard it, I thought it was a frog. With the sound coming from high up in the tree canopy, and the cars of birdwatchers blocking the lane I soon realised my mistake…
Thank you Christina.
Ah, yes, I see now that it is you and faithful Alex. The photo was sitting in our media library and I was looking for an English forest sunrise or sunset. It is truly atmospheric, and was exactly the feeling that I wanted. But I should have credited you. So many apologies. It’s a gorgeous picture.
I’ve never seen a Scops Owl but I have heard its strange one-note beep on the wonderful Tweet of the Day on Radio 4. https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b04dwdb1 David Attenborough says that some people thought it was a faulty car alarm!
Your pic was in our media library, Christina, because it was part of your guest blog, about your hairy-chested friend, Alex 😉 And it’s a lovely pic.