Finding Your Voice with Robin Rice + Emily McDowell - LESSON 6

Feel free to comment or critique, and if you've found me through the course, be sure to say hi and link me back to your blog! <3 
LESSON 6 

Photo by Julie Moore

2.  Photo + One Paragraph Free Writing - Use the questions as a jumping off point or just go. Keep your words to one paragraph as a practice in deliberate clarity. 

• What kind of baggage goes with you anywhere?

Emotional baggage hangs from her like wet clothes, slowing her movements until she no longer walks, but shuffles forward, ambling on to the next place without so much as a glance ahead. Her body feels heavy, pulled to the ground by an unseen force. You can't put a number on that weight, for the scale cannot measure what can't be seen, can't be held in the hand. Her wounds are countless and heavy beyond measure, but as the sun breaks through, she lifts her weary head, squinting against the light as she finally sees the end in sight. 

Finding Your Voice with Robin Rice + Emily McDowell - LESSON 5

Feel free to comment or critique, and if you've found me through the course, be sure to say hi and link me back to your blog! <3 

LESSON 5:

I'll admit, this one was difficult for me. What on earth am I supposed to write about cheesy little souvenirs? But, I know that Robin's lesson today, about letting the wisdom come out, is exactly what I needed to do, so, instead of driving myself crazy trying to think about what on earth to write about these little guys, I just started writing. 

Photo Credit Eve Hannah 

2.  Photo + One Paragraph Free Writing - Use the questions as a jumping off point or just go. Keep your words to one paragraph as a practice in deliberate clarity. 

My breath puffs out in tiny clouds as I walk the streets, searching around each corner, peering down alleyways and behind buildings. I tighten my scarf and pull it up so I can tuck my chin within its warmth, but the chill still freezes the tip of my nose. Is it always this cold here, or have I finally become open enough to notice? Fog caresses my feet now, but it no longer curls thick tendrils around my thoughts.  

Finding Your Voice with Robin Rice + Emily McDowell - LESSON 4

Feel free to comment or critique, and if you've found me through the course, be sure to say hi and link me back to your blog! <3 

LESSON 4:

Robin spoke about adrenaline today, and I really liked her take on it. I'm including some of what she said here (in quotes): 

"Adrenaline is completely normal when you are about to take a risk. In fact, it is your friend. It brings out the best in you, like a fountain of POTENTIAL rising up." 

I really liked that, and I'm hoping I can keep this in mind moving forward, not just in my writing career, but in all facets of my life. 

Anyway, I tried my hand at Haiku again today, and.... ugh. SO not my area. 

Photo Credit Julie Moore

1. Photo + Haiku - Write a piece of haiku that brings wisdom to this photo using 5-7-5 syllable haiku. 

Gentle tug inside

When your sun and moon collide

Trust is on your side

And another one, because why not just do many versions of the thing that causes you pain. Hahaha, I'm kidding. Writing haiku doesn't actually cause me pain. Much. ;-) 

Little signs I see

Guiding me to what is true

The sun, the moon... you

And hey, they say three's a charm, right? 

She searches within

Closed eyes, quiet mind; she hears

truths shes always known

Finding Your Voice with Robin Rice + Emily McDowell - LESSON 3

Feel free to comment or critique, and if you've found me through the course, be sure to say hi and link me back to your blog! <3 

LESSON 3:

Today Robin spoke of wisdom and digging deeper into ourselves, past the cliches and past the cultural wisdom we've acquired, and by the end of the lesson, all I could think was, "What if I have no depth? What if all I am is surface?' So, the homework reflects that. Sadly. Oh well. There's always tomorrow. 

Photo Credit Jeff Stroud

1. Photo + Haiku and/or Tweet - Write a piece of haiku that brings wisdom to this photo using 5-7-5 syllable haiku or craft your own wise tweet. 

(My attempt at Haiku became a poem of sorts, so...)

Fenced in.
Trapped.
Within her mind, she struggles.

Wanting.
Needing.
Striving.

But what if this is it?
What if this is all there is?

She is bones
And skin
And parts of a whole

Living
Breathing
Dying

Mom
Wife
Imposter

What if this is all she is?

Finding Your Voice with Robin Rice + Emily McDowell - LESSON 2

Feel free to comment or critique, and if you've found me through the course, be sure to say hi and link me back to your blog! <3 

LESSON 2: 

Photo Credit Jim Chapman

Photo + Story Start With 10 Minutes Timed Writing -

"Oh little birdie, I understand. I was once in the hand of someone much bigger than me, and..." 

"Oh little birdie, I understand. I was once in the hand of someone much bigger than me, and..." 

At first he was tender, cradling me in my time of need, comforting me, making me believe again.

Oh, I believed. I believed he was gentle and kind, beautiful and wise. I believed in the future he promised, the healing he said would come. I believed in the glue he offered, putting me back together piece by piece.

He was everything I thought I wanted, needed, but that was all part of the ruse, wasn’t it? To gain my trust, to fool me wholly into believing him.

Believing IN him.

When his fist first tightened—just a fraction—I didn’t notice. How could I, so warm and safe as I was within his loving grasp? When he began to cherish me too much, to hold onto me too tightly, I didn’t understand, didn’t see the forest for the trees. He was mine and I was his and I was safe there in his hands, so much bigger than mine, so much stronger.

Slowly at first, they closed in on me, those hands.

Just a little pressure here and a little tightening there.

So subtle at first that I didn’t notice the signs, didn’t notice the warnings. As he tightened his fist around my soul, I allowed him that power. He loved me, cherished me, wanted to protect me inside that big strong hand.

By the time I realized my savior had become my captor, it was too late. I was a shell of who I’d been before.

Before.

Before him. Before the tragedy that brought him into my life, drawn to me like a moth to a flame, only I was the moth, and he was the flame calling me toward him, closer, closer…

Until there was no longer me, there was just fire and heat and pain, molding me, burning me, hurting me until I could take it no longer. Until I could stand the flames no more. And I will never be the same. I will never be that broken bird he once cradled in his hand. I will never be weak, able to be so easily caught. I will never be the prey again. Because as I waited there in that fire, waited in that unbearable heat, I was changing, Slowly, almost as imperceptibly as that first tightening of his hands. And as he held me to the flame, breaking me down and making me what he wanted, I did not succumb to the fire.

I became the fire.

And I burned his hand.

And he released me. 

Finding Your Voice with Robin Rice + Emily McDowell - LESSON 1

I started a new course with Robin Rice and Emily McDowell, and, though I was absolutely not going to share my work publicly (outside of the course), I decided that maybe I should. Maybe I should be raw and vulnerable with all of you. Publicly. 

So, here I am. 

(Robin Rice's Training Your Inner Warrior course changed me in numerous ways, and I can't even begin to describe what a blessing it was to find her. That course is FREE right now, and I HIGHLY recommend it! If you're interested, you can find Training Your Inner Warrior on Robin's website.) 

Anyway, back to the task at hand! Finding Your Voice is a two-month course, with lessons every other day. Each day we will be given an image and writing prompt, as well as other options (writing haiku, quote+paragraph combo, etc), but as a writer who used to love participating in flash fiction prompts as often as possible, I have a feeling most days I will be drawn to the ten minutes of free writing prompt. I am going to share the results of said free writing here. 

Feel free to comment or critique, and if you've found me through the course, be sure to say hi and link me back to your blog! <3 

LESSON 1:

Photo Credit Eve Hannah

Photo + Story Start With 10 Minutes Timed Writing -

"I never said I wouldn't jump," she whispered aloud to herself. "So I can't be called a liar. Then again, if I do jump..."

"I never said I wouldn't jump," she whispered aloud to herself. "So I can't be called a liar. Then again, if I do jump..."
What will I be called?

Selfish.

Brave.

Courageous.

Who will come to my defense? Who will chastise me? Who will understand the reason for the leap? When I weigh the pros and cons, examine my options, my reasons, my fears, my dreams… which of these will win?

Jumping is not the easiest option. Jumping is not the act of a fearful woman, the act of someone who has given up. Jumping is not the end.

Jumping is the beginning. Of what exactly, I don’t know. Something strong, something that burns within me. Desire. Hope. A dream yet to meet fruition. A fire burns inside, pushing me further toward the edge, nudging me with gentle reminders, little bits of guidance from some greater force.

A whisper. You can do this.

You are brave.

You are courageous.

You are exactly the strong woman you wish to be.

She is you and you are her and

You. Are. Already. There.

Just jump.

Take the leap.

Do the thing.

See, this jump isn’t the end of anything, but a beautiful, intense, terrifying start. This is the next chapter, the turning of the page, the gift you’ve been waiting for, asking for, begging for.

This leap into the unknown is what it looks like when the stars align, the sun and the moon join together in complete congruity.

This is your moment.

Jump.