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...don’t turn every corner, willy-nilly; don’t cross the street until you’ve looked both ways.
Once, with another woman …
Something stolen
While you were driving
These were my mistakes
In my grandmother's house
I'm thinking of …
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Sometimes we’re so anxious to get to the end of what we’re writing that we go too fast, skipping over parts that cry our for closer inspection or offer up a truth so simple we hardly recognize it.
It isn’t only in writing that we go too fast, but in life as well. Maybe you think you have too much to do (which you probably have, so you feel an urgency to move through your list (and your life) as quickly as possible. You race out the door and down the steps without taking time to notice a fine curlicue of vine growing up the porch rail, a couple of dogs chasing what could be a squirrel or merely a shadow.
The same is true with your writing; there are so many points to make, characters to get from her to there, you zing from one to the next, a pebble across water, without taking the time to delve, to meander, to stay a while.
Before you begin writing, settle into your chair, feel the face of your page before you, the contours of your pen between your fingers. Breathe in and out a few times. Take your time and go slowly. Not so slow you’re sluggish and so is your writing; but slow as in peaceful, unhurried, at ease. When the pace of your writing picks up, follow it and keep its rhythm, but don’t turn every corner, willy-nilly; don’t cross the street until you’ve looked both ways.
When a door wants to be opened, open it, go inside, explore the room, sit on the sofa, plump the pillows, pull books from the bookshelf, and page through them. Sniff the air and make notes of the scents. If you feel uncomfortable in the room, all the more reason to stay and look around. It’s often when the writing gets uncomfortable that we want to hurry along. Don’t. Loosen the grip on your pen, stay in the room, and breathe.

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