Commit and die
The peculiar piece of advice that got me writing again
It’s funny how creative people sometimes forget to do the very thing that makes their soul happy.
Not the right time.
Not the right environment.
Not the right project name.
Not the right [insert excuse here].
When all along, all you needed was just to create. To take the beautifully messy world around you and turn it into something tangible. To tame it into free-flowing sentences you can stroke and feel like things make sense again.
A little while ago, I asked a friend for her advice with this project. She’s a published author, so I figured she knows a thing or two about getting out of your head and into creator mode.
Her answer? “You just have to commit and die.”
I laughed at the time, but those words have become a bit of a mantra since. In a world where social media will have you believe you can be anything, do anything, go anywhere - creating is a commitment. A choice to express yourself one way, not another. Which is always better than no way.
And of course, it is a way of dying too. And not just of embarrassment at how cringe you can sometimes be. It’s about leaving behind an old story. A version of you. A thought pattern that’s no longer serving you.
Which, if you’re familiar with yoga, is what pigeon pose is all about. Yes, it’s a brilliant hip opener which can release tension in your hip flexors and lower back. But it’s also a great way to let go of any stored stress and negative emotions.
So here we are. Introducing Pigeon Prose, a creative writing project where every month, I’ll be sharing personal reflections about finding your way in a chaotic world through words, the teachings of yoga, and simply going with the flow.
I’ll write about finding moments of calm and joy in your days. About the importance of writing, of putting your ideas to paper and finding your voice (especially if you’re a woman). And about building a life that’s meaningful to you, regardless of the noise outside.
Every month, I’ll also share five things I’m enjoying to ground us into the senses. And just because I like to break my own rules, I might add a bonus piece of writing every once in a while if I’m feeling particularly inspired.
So if this all speaks to you, I’d love for you to join me for the journey, and I look forward to sharing with you. But above all, I can’t wait to just write.
Here’s to committing. Here’s to dying a little. Here’s to feeling alive.
This month I’m…
Listening to this handpan music album while putting together my last yoga classes of the year:
Drinking a herbal infusion called witches’ brew with raspberry leaves, mugwort and vervain.
Reading “This is happiness” by Niall Williams (a beautifully written novel about the arrival of electricity in a small Irish village).
Watching nature go quiet for winter and wondering why we do the opposite this time of year…
Looking forward to some winter sunshine in Spain with my family - my favourite way to start the new year.