Sunday, July 31, 2011

Bums, Bums, all of 'em Bums

The past few mornings I've woken up with my stomach knotted over these stupid debt talks. I'm angry at how out of touch Washington is. I'm angry at the Congress. I'm angry that our president couldn't get a better deal even when public opinion is on his side. I'm angry that I'm wasting energy on this.

But this is where writing helps. At the end of August, I'll begin a new term of Women Writing for (a) Change. My previous three terms were filled with women of different backgrounds, writing for different purposes. Some wrote as therapy. It became a safe place to explore ideas and feelings. Others wrote to express themselves. Still others wrote because they enjoyed it. For most, I'm sure, it was a combination of those factors.

A few of us were working toward the completion of larger pieces; the class provided the support and encouragement to keep writing each week. To always have something new to share. When I took my first class, I had the draft of a chapter and a rough outline. Today, I'm more than halfway finished and feel the end in sight.

This next term I'm taking a "Mastery" class. We'll meet every other week, and I think each "student" is working on a longer piece. Also, it's co-ed. It will be interesting to see how that affects the dynamics of the class.

I've missed having that community this summer, I think more than I anticipated. To have those two-and-a-half hours blocked off where I have permission to focus solely on writing and on myself is indeed a luxury. It replenishes like nothing else.

1 comment:

David Cox said...

I, too, have discovered times and places that allow me to focus and release myself toward expression. Part of this discovery is that such places often have people that induce further replenishment of myselfness. You mention 'communities' Rachel. Perfect word.