A small crack of possibility
On the stories I've told myself and ways to write with me
‘…to sing at dawn and to sing at dusk was to heal the world through joy…’ (Terry Tempest Williams)
And yet she had been quiet, oh so quiet.
Her song had been caught in the hedgerow—tangled by brambles, hidden deep in the thicket surrounded by thorns and weeds that sought to take the light. Her voice was a mere whisper, one that could have easily been mistaken for the rustle of leaves or movement of a small hedgerow animal.
But one bright day at dawn, if you listened closely, through the gap you could hear an ‘ah’ and later at dusk an ‘oh’, a tiny opening, a small crack of possibility.
* thank you to the beautiful for sharing this incredible quote by Terry Tempest Williams on our recent retreat together. The words above tumbled out in response to the prompt that Kerri shared and for the first time in a long time, I didn’t immediately hate what I had written. I am still processing what it means to sit and write in the company of other women and dreaming of ways that I can do this more and open up the opportunity to others more widely.
I’ve spent much of January and February feeling stuck. Lost for words, unable to write, caught between a web of responsibility and a longing to write. The times when a few words have arrived, the white noise of self doubt and criticism has loomed large and I have run away or stopped myself before I’ve even started.
This is familiar territory, I should be used to it by now and yet I still seem to torment myself that I can’t find a way back in. I chastise myself that I dare to call myself a writer as I haven’t actually been doing it much.
If I were to be a kind friendly voice or hand on my shoulder, I would remind myself that this has been a difficult start to the year, that I am juggling the most amount of things I have juggled in a very long time, that my paid work situation is precarious and uncertain at best and that there have always been times in my life when my writing has slipped between the margins completely or simply not been possible.
It doesn’t help that I have also started the year with three rejections for some things that I longed to happen. Two rejections arrived within hours of each other and although one was the nicest rejection I have ever received, it still stung.
The desire to write is something I have always grappled with.
The longing to find a way to capture the darkness, light and tender beauty of this wild world, to remind myself of what it means to be alive and write stories that show us that we are not alone, has always been there for me. Whether it found form in me hiding away in a corner reading as a very young child or aged eight when I would copy out my favourite flower fairies poems by Cicely Mary Baker and later attempt to write my own, or now when I wake before the rest of the house pulling on an extra jumper, making a cup tea and sitting in the cold to write, there is something about writing that won’t leave me, even when I struggle to actually do it.
Yet these past few months, the stories I have told myself are that I can’t do it and that when I try to do it, what I write is not good enough. And while some of that may be true (I mean, most of my first attempts never are very good), if I am honest with myself I have been my own worst enemy.
Yes, there are so many other things that are taking up my attention right now (work, relatives, responsibilities, relationships, finding more freelance work and a way to make this all work…) and yes, there is always an excuse or an interruption, but finding a moment in the margins for myself is something that I want and something that I need.
But I am the only one who can make it happen.
If I am honest with myself and if I listen closely to some beautiful souls who I’ve spent time with recently and who have offered kind but firm advice, I am the only one who can make the time, I am the only one who can write the story and I am the only one who can rewrite all the stories that I tell myself…
So here’s to being kind but firm, to finding a moment even if it is just in the fold or margin of my day, here’s to writing without fear or judgement, here’s to just trying anyway…
To be firm is to be kind sometimes.
I would love to write with you soon… There is something so very magical when a group of women come together. When we stop and let the day-to-day hum, thrum and distraction and begin to slow. When we sit in the presence of each other, sharing our stories, weaving those invisible thought ribbons into morning song. When that which has been hidden amongst brambles and weeds and responsibilities begins to rise up and finds its own voice and we start to say what we want and what we need.
When we can commune in the presence of each other, lingering in the soft echo and whisper of each other's words and voices.
My next co-writing sessions will start up again in March and right at the bottom of this is news of my next retreat with a very special guest…
March co-writing
What to expect
The sessions will last approximately one hour and fifteen minutes with a moment to pause and ground ourselves at the beginning and time at the end to have a little catch up (should you wish).
You don’t have to talk, you don’t have to bring anything specific to work on (I’ll share a prompt in the chat), you don’t have to have your camera on, the whole idea is just showing up and spending some time with your words in the company of others.
Dates
These sessions will be free and will take place at the following times and dates on zoom using the links below:
Monday 3rd March 13:00 – 14:15
Wednesday 5th March 9:15 – 10:30
Monday 10th March 13:00 – 14:15
Wednesday 12th March 9:15 – 10:30
Monday 17th March 13:00 – 14:15
Wednesday 19th March 9:15 – 10:30
Monday 24th March 13:00 – 14:15
Wednesday 26th March 9:15 – 10:30
Monday 31st March 13:00 – 14:15
Please email me if you want a little nudge to remember on the day and I can send you a reminder.
A May writing retreat for women with Lucy Beckley and
Friday 9th May - Monday 12th May | near Newquay, Cornwall
Join us for a residential women’s writing retreat in Cornwall in May 2025.
- Three nights accommodation in beautiful surroundings
- Peace and quiet to focus on your craft
- Inspiring spaces to write (private or shared)
- A supportive and nurturing environment.
- Optional workshops
- Suggestions of artists dates nearby
- Prompts, books and materials to help kindle your imagination
- Evening candle-lit meals
- Delicious food, drink and snacks throughout
What to expect
The space to write, a place to sit and take a moment.
Lots of books, access to prompts and space to be.
Time to concentrate on your craft.
A chance to join in with one workshop led by Huma and one workshop led by Lucy and an evening of readings and a Q&A with Huma.
While there are some set mealtimes and the option to join a workshop, we want you to use the time in whichever way you wish. There is no obligation to join any of the activities, if you fancy breakfast in bed one day (or everyday for that matter) we can make that happen, we just want you to feel comfortable and at home.