Latest Writing Workshop

Yesterday I went to Alameda for an afternoon writing workshop using the Amherst Method of writing to prompts in a group. My favorite way of writing. There were three prompts, and I'm willing to share my responses to two of them with you.

Things My Mother Said to Me

"When I'm alone, I'm in bad company."

"Pain is inevitable; suffering is optional."

"Pray for potatoes and pick up the plow."

"You can do that; you're free, white, and over 21."

"That was an E-ticket ride."

"They tell me I was a cuddly drunk."

"That poncho is ugly." The one I designed and made for myself out of fake fur.

"I want you to complete the following sentence: Mother, I hate you because ..." I declined to respond, knowing that I wasn't ready to say, and she wasn't ready to hear, what might come up. My brother, not so canny, had replied - 'I don't hate you, but I don't love you either, since you weren't there while we were growing up.'
Because of her alcoholism, we were raised by grandparents, and didn't come to live with her until we were in high school. Anyway, after my brother's response, she turned against him for the rest of her life.

"Action is the magic word." As she put on lively music to help us with house cleaning.

What I really want to say is - we only spent holidays with her until we were teenagers, so it was an unusual and odd relationship, more like playmates than family. Then when we came to live with her, she told us in so many words that she figured we were grown up enough, and that she wouldn't try to raise us. She'd just make meals and write checks from money that our father had left us when he suddenly died, and she had finally stepped up to be our mother to the best of her minimal ability.

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If

If I could convince the crowd inside my head to all be on my side, at least most of the time, at least most of the crowd.

If I remember and love my inner child, and wish her a nourishing balance of play, structure, and security.

If I look to each new day with hope - if not instead of, then at least along with dread or numbness or boredom or shame.

If I pick up the phone and write email in the assurance that I am worth spending time with.

If I look in the mirror, if not with appreciation for what I see, then at least with compassion and a kindly curiosity.

If I set pen to paper every so often, knowing that either something interesting will come out or the practice will do me good, maybe even both.

If I walk, or dance, or yoga or tai chi most days, knowing that it's good for me and that I'll probably feel better for it.

If I pay attention to what I choose to eat, getting full enjoyment from it and letting my inner wisdom help me make those choices.

If I read my email like it contains buried treasure, and I can find new people, places, and activities that will enrich my life,

If I choose to go to workshops and demonstrations, and dances, giving myself permission to make the choices that seem good at the time, and knowing that there's no blame in deciding to make different choices next time.

If I allow myself to have dreams about how I could share my experience and abilities to add beauty and justice to the world.

If I can enjoy reading my mind candy and occasionally read some non-fiction or literary fiction, or magazine articles that I allow to make me think.

If I dust off my music collection and allow the notes to touch my emotions however they will.

If I really live this part of my life, who knows what could happen?