“Why do you never find anything written about that idiosyncratic thought you advert to, about your fascination with something no one else understands? Because it is up to you. There is something you find interesting, for a reason hard to explain. It is hard to explain because you have never read it on any page; there you begin. You were made and set here to give voice to this, your own astonishment. - Annie Dillard, The Writing Life
This week’s creative retreat comes by way of Annie Dillard, from The Writer’s Life.
In this era of uncertainty, multiple calamities and collapse, and news cycles which seem even more outrageous by the hour, it is no wonder that our attention is in tatters. It is so hard to stay buoyant against the onslaught, and I have been thinking a lot lately about the parameters and boundaries required to remain alert and alive to what is happening in the world but not worn by it.
This morning, Annie Dillard’s quote popped to mind. It’s about the writing life, which is really just life, and the writing as one way, among many, to bear witness.
To give voice to our own astonishment. I think this is, in many ways, one of the greatest tasks of this time, for to give voice to that astonishment is to stay attuned to the conversations, ideas, possibilities and marvels that are alive to us in any given moment. What is the conversation I want to be part of building or contributing to? What is the narrative I am going to give voice to, meaning also, where best to focus my limited attention, time and energy.
Perhaps for some, giving voice to astonishment is to build rallying cries on the streets or in the newspaper columns which will still have them, offering sensible critiques and admonitions. Perhaps for others it is writing songs of rebellion, love and marvel. For others, giving voice might be picking up a paintbrush or sitting at a pottery wheel and turning all that anguish into a different form, moulded to give shape to the possibility, still, of beauty. Or perhaps it is in a classroom, seeing young hands playing in a sandpit or a flowerbed, and asking, ‘can you show me how we can build this, plant this, together’
The voice can rise in so many ways.
How might you give voice to your own astonishment right now?
This is your creative prompt for this week.
Maybe you want to write about it, or paint it, or sing it, or ask a child to help you figure it out too.
Who knows what wonders you might discover…
Coming up on The Wild Edge
OWL Hours: Creative Practice.
Tuesday 18th, Tuesday 25th February - 8-9pm (Irish/ UK time).. plus more in March, and beyond! (Note the move to Tuesday evenings for the rest of February) - find links to add to calendar in the notice board.
This is creative practice time, with intention, in community. An hour of quiet focus, together. We set intentions at the start of the hour, work independently, and then I host a simple gathering at the end for insights and next steps. It’s about building momentum and accountability, and a sense of feeling less alone in our work.
Some people are working on their poetry and plays, some people are creating reflective time to think deeply, some are journalling. I am using it to work on my latest fiction project.
Writing Sanctuary- Journalling and Reflection. Sunday 9th March- 6-7pm Irish/ UK time.
This is a guided hour of journalling and reflective writing practice, weaving in creative inspiration, seasonal tunings, and more.
And More Exclusive Writing …
Coming up next week is my monthly Library of Interesting Things, plus insights into the phases of the creative lifecycle.
Liking The Wild Edge? I would really appreciate if you can share it with others, or tell a friend who you think may enjoy it too.
Thank you all. Clare x
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