‘The wave makes a sullen sound’ - symbolism and the sea

I live within walking distance of the beach, and the sea is one of the first things I see when I open my curtains. I love that view because it is always changing. Some mornings the sea is flecked with gold and red, at other times the sky is stormy grey, with the thinnest line of sunshine streaking down through the clouds. On a calm night, when the moon is full, the surface of the water looks like silk. At other times, it’s wild and choppy and I fall asleep to the sound of a distant foghorn blaring its ghostly warning to passing ships.

Since I’ve been living here, the sea has entered my subconscious like an unseen presence. Mermaids, seal wives and selkies sail through my stories. Even the poems I’ve intended to be about other things often feature the sea or water as a metaphor. It’s as if it has become part of me.

The sea, of course, is full of symbolism. At its primordial mythological level, the sea represents the watery chaos that existed before the world was formed. The first book of the Bible describes ‘formless depths’ – the Hebrew word is ‘tehom’, from which the chaos monster Tiamat also takes root.

Water is death

If water represents chaos, it is also a harbinger of death. I was born in Southampton and most of my ancestors were sailors. From my nan’s tiny cottage (now long-since demolished) overlooking the busy docks, sons, uncles and brothers would depart, often for years, with no guarantee of return. Along the walls of every major port are plaques commemorating the names of those whom the sea has claimed as her own.

Water is life

Paradoxically, water is also the stuff of life. Millenia ago, our ancestors crawled from the sea onto dry land. We are 65 per cent water and need water to survive. The human body can go 30 to 40 days without food but only two to three days without liquid.

Flux and flow

In mythology, water is often depicted as feminine. The pagan symbol for women resembles a chalice cup. She represents the ebb and flow of female intuition and emotion, drawn by the monthly cycle of the moon. She is also the element of imagination, of high adventure and fairytale. Perhaps this is why, when faced with the sea, my first inclination is to sing.

Water is the element of emotion, our tears spilling through from soul to reality, the expression of love, or loss, of great joy or unspeakable pain. When words will not do, our tears speak.

Tears have healing powers

A woman who was a sinner poured precious oil over the feet of Jesus with perfume and wiped them away with her tears, and found herself forgiven.  Like the ocean, tears are salt water. Our tears, when we cry, contain a chemical called ‘lysozyme’, which washes away bacteria and prevents infection. After crying, our breathing and heart rate decrease, and we enter into a calmer emotional state. Crying releases stress hormones and other toxins and stimulates the production of endorphins, our body’s natural pain killer.

Water transforms

Almost all religions use water in their purification rituals, to symbolise cleansing, both inward and outward. When we are cleansed, we are transformed and made ready to encounter the divine. To enter the waters is a metaphorical drowning, a little death, a baptism, a rebirth. In fairytale, water is liminal, having the power to cross over worlds. Humans discover new lands and dream of adventure on distant shores; mermaids lose their tails on the sands to become recast as wretched human lovers; seals shed their coats to dance naked and free in the moonlight.

Water transcends

The tongues of the waves sculpt new landscapes, carve out rocks, transform our hard and brittle edges to soft sand. So water is at the same time destructive and constructive, building up and knocking down. The clamour of waves upon the beach calls us to greater depths – of emotion, of feeling, of spirit. The salt of the water, which echoes our own tears, invites response.

Water never stands still

Like water we are in a constant state of creative flux and flow. Ideas and energy pour through us, are born and reborn through words, paints and sounds. Like the waves, we are constantly pulled this way and that, never settling nor stopping. There are hidden depths beneath – places in which, if nurtured, beautiful things might live and grow, pearls of great price caught beneath the weeds. It is our job, as creators, to dive deep and dig them out, to polish them up as best we can, and hold them to the light for everyone to see. 

Sources:

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/emotional-freedom/201007/the-health-benefits-tears

http://www.africanwater.org/religion.htm

Overcoming writer’s block - mindful tips to boost your creativity

Have you heard the one about the writer who sat down to write a piece about how to overcome writer’s block but had to give up because she couldn’t think of anything to say?

I’m guessing we’ve all been there. One minute, the ideas are coming so thick and fast that you can barely get them all out on the paper. The next, you find yourself staring at a blank page, wondering if you are really cut out for all this ‘being a writer’ lark?

The problem about so-called writer’s block is that it’s almost impossible to define. Some writers question whether it really exists at all? But as someone who has spent far too many hours staring at the blank pages of an existential crisis, all I can say that it’s all too real to me!

I thought of writing a series of friendly bullet points about how to overcome writer’s block, but it seemed somehow, too simplistic a response to a complex problem. So here’s the best I could come up with…

It’s not writer’s block, it’s a thinker’s block

One of my favourite quotes about writer’s block is from John Rogers: ‘You can’t think yourself out of a writer’s block, but you can write your way out of a thinker’s block.’ Writing is difficult. If it was easy everyone would be doing it. But giving up was never in my nature. We’re in it for the long haul, right? Most of the time when I struggle to write, it’s either because I’m tired, or lacking in confidence, or need to spend more time planning. All of these are problems that can be fixed. If all else fails, put down the pen (or iPad or mobile), take a break, have a coffee or two, or even an early night…and then start again. And again. And again, until it works.

Go easy on yourself

The thing about the creative process is that it doesn’t happen all at once, or even predictably. Usually, I begin in a blaze of enthusiasm, with a great idea, start writing it down…and then it tails off. Perhaps I haven’t planned far enough ahead, or maybe the critical editing part of my brain takes over. But sometimes ideas just need some more time to germinate. On a couple of occasions, it has taken me over a year to write a poem! So if it doesn’t happen all at once, don’t worry. Take a break, have a bath, get out into nature, feed the pigeons (for some reason, I always find feeding pigeons inspiring) and come back to it later, once your creative seed has had a chance to take root.

Switch off your inner critic

You know the one. You’re midway through writing something and all of a sudden you hear a voice inside your head telling you ‘This is no good; that’s rubbish; who would want to read that?’ or ‘Call yourself a writer? Why don’t you get a proper job?’ One of my favourite books, a children’s book by Laurie Fisher Huck called Magic Happens Inside of You refers to our inner critic as the Yackety Yak. Every time I hear mine, I imagine a big, hairy yak spouting lots of nonsense, and the image is so funny I find it hard to take it seriously any more. I also remind myself that no author ever wrote a perfect first draft, and that even a rubbish first draft is better than writing no words at all. And I carry on.

Create a habit

I know, I know, routine and habit aren’t the most exciting of things, but creating a good writing routine can help overcome those feelings of panic and not knowing how to start. A lot of writers swear by getting up at five or six in the morning and getting all your writing done before lunch (my good friend Rita has written two excellent books that way). That wouldn’t work for a night owl like me, so choose a routine that fits your lifestyle. I tend to write in the day while my daughter is at school, and then pick up any loose threads in the evening. Others find time at the weekend. Pick a time and stick with it. Writing is like training for a marathon. The more you do, the better you’ll get at it – and the easier and more natural it becomes.

Silence can be golden

Is your brain constantly crammed full of thoughts, worries, fears and ideas? Modern life is crazy busy! It’s not unusual to find me simultaneously writing a poem, cooking the dinner and sorting the washing – all the while trying to respond to my daughter’s constant demands for cheese strings, gluepots or cuddles! Our minds are stuffed to bursting. Did you know, the average person has around 50,000 to 70,000 thoughts a day?! With all that going on, it’s no wonder that sometimes our creative flow gets dammed out by all the debris blocking our minds! So stop…look…listen to the sounds around you. Take some time out. Even if you don’t practice daily meditation (and by the way, I’d highly recommend it) you can benefit by getting out into nature and spending time just ‘being’.

If all else fails…just keep writing

It’s simple, really. If you are struggling to find the right words, just write any words. Internationally acclaimed author Maya Angelou described her writing process like this: ‘What I try to do is write. I may write for two weeks ‘The cat sat on the mat, that is that, not a rat. And it might be just the most boring and awful stuff. But I try. When I’m writing, I write. And then it’s as if the muse is convinced that I’m serious and says ‘Okay. Okay, I’ll come.”

Do you suffer from writer’s block? What tried and tested methods do you have for overcoming it? Share your ideas and experiences in the comments below.

The Principle of Flow – How being untidy taught me a valuable lesson

I’ve been very busy this week, having a big clearout. One of the perils of living in a small house and being a parent is the sheer amount of clutter that accumulates very quickly! I must admit, I’m a bit of a magpie, with an eye for a bargain and a trawler of charity shops, which definitely doesn’t help! In the past, I’ve also been quite a hoarder, which is something I’ve had to work on. 

I’ve read books on minimalism and come to the conclusion that it’s only possible if you eat out, create nothing, have no partner and no kids! But while I’m probably never going to be a minimalist (my book collection alone sees to that!), I am slowly improving.

One of the things I’ve found really helpful in getting rid of unnecessary stuff is a secret I’d like to share with you. I call it the Principle of Flow.

Simply put, everything around us is in a constant state of flux. We like to think of time as linear, but it isn’t, it’s cyclical. There’s a reason why clocks have round faces, not square ones. It’s human nature to want to hold onto things, but that’s not the way the world is. Every day I’m getting older, my life is changing. Nothing ever stays still.

Our possessions are there to serve us. The purpose of books is to be read. The purpose of a lovely coat is to be worn. But if my books are sitting on the shelf no longer being read, they have lost their sense of purpose and become a dry, dead thing. 

If my coat is hanging in my wardrobe never to be worn, it might just as well not exist. Once my things have lost their sense of purpose, it’s time for them to move on, and serve somebody else. No matter how much I once loved them, I have cut off their flow.

At this time of year, parents are waving goodbye to their children at school gates or watching their bigger children take their first steps into adulthood as they leave home and go to university. Such partings are painful. It’s something, if I’m honest, I’m dreading. Yet, even now, I’m already preparing my daughter for greater independence, teaching her the skills she will need to survive without me. I wouldn’t be a good parent if I didn’t.

As creators, we’re an essential part of the flow. Ideas come to us, sometimes with a whisper, sometimes with a shout, and we have to make them live – on paper, on screens, or on canvas. If we refuse to do so, perhaps through fear of not getting it right or worrying about how others might respond, we kill off the idea at source. 

Once I’ve turned the idea into something concrete, I then have to set it free, to let it make its own way in the world, independently of myself. The execution of the idea was mine, and mine alone, but the spark that provoked it exists outside of me, and will go on beyond me. That’s part of the cycle of life. As creative people, we get our sparks out there into the world, and if we’ve done our job, they spread and light a fire of their own.

It’s part of us, too. We’re born, we live, if we’re lucky, eighty or ninety years or so, but ultimately we die. We don’t get to take our possessions or our ideas with us. They were never really ours in the first place. But the sparks we leave behind – the words, the memories, the seeds we’ve sown and the love we’re shown – those things live on, grow, and multiply in the lives of others. 

Those things are eternal.

What’s holding you back? – Ditch the pebble in your shoe

I promised I would tell you about the 10 Days Writing Challenge for Conscious Leaders run by Tara Nicholle-Nelson http://www.taranicholle.com/writingchallenge/. It’s been such a whirlwind couple of weeks that this is the first proper chance I’ve had to sit and write this. But, a promise is a promise, so here goes…

The idea of the Challenge is simple: you are sent a series of daily prompts, which you then use as a basis for writing 30 minutes a day, for ten days.

I expected the prompts to be challenging, uplifting and thought-provoking. What I didn’t expect is what happened next.

A lot of the prompts were focused around the idea of creating a better vision for yourself. For the first day’s challenge, we had to create inventive titles for ourselves, using descriptions that fitted what we like to do and how we liked to be seen. I enjoyed that one. On Day 5, we were asked to write as if we were speaking to a younger version of ourselves. To my surprise, my ‘inner child’ turned out to be a disaffected teenager who was disappointed in me:

‘It could've been so different,’ she said, ‘You had so much enthusiasm, so much potential. Where did it all go wrong?’

‘I’m sorry,’ I said, ‘I should've listened. Real life got in the way...’

‘It’s not too late,’ she said, ‘Come here’.
She offered me her hand. I don't know why, but I took it. She walked back over to the dustbins. She sat on one, I sat on the other. Swinging our legs. Writing.
‘See,’ she said, ‘It’s not so difficult. Not once you begin...’
I turned to reply, but there was nobody next to me, only a small indent on top of the dustbin lid, where she had been sitting. Her notepad was gone too, but mine was filled with strange, unfamiliar words. I went on writing and writing. I haven’t stopped.'

But the biggest surprise came on, I think, Day 3, the title of which was ‘Breakthrough’. We were invited to write about any limiting beliefs or toxic messages we had absorbed through others which was keeping us from fulfilling our true potential. I sat down still and silent for about fifteen minutes, let my mind drift…and then it all came flooding out.

Back when I was on maternity leave, I was made redundant. Losing my job with a young baby to support was bad enough, but the manner in which it was done was deeply humiliating. As part of the rationale for ‘letting me go’, my boss had put together, in my absence and with no consultation, a document assessing my abilities. Despite having an unblemished track record and having been nominated for a national award, under the column headlined ‘Future Potential’ were the words…13 per cent.

I challenged the decision, but got nowhere and in the end, I settled for a small redundancy payout and enjoyed the chance to spend as much time as possible with my beautiful daughter. One day, when I was at the bank negotiating an overdraft, the woman cashier asked if I worked. When I told her I’d lost my job when my baby was born, she scowled at me and said ‘Oh, you’ll never work again, then’. I went home in tears, feeling an abject failure.

As soon as my daughter was at school full-time, I began freelance writing and editing. I had a steady trickle of work, and I honestly thought I had put everything behind me. But when I started on the writing prompt, out it all came….

Thirteen per cent. That figure. Somehow, in the back of my mind, that total had become lodged, like a stone in my shoe I couldn’t get out. So I looked at it. I took it out. I examined it some more.

I thought about how ridiculous it was that I’d carried that stone – for almost a decade – and allowed it to grow and grow and fester until it had molded itself to my sub-conscious. I had actually started to believe that I was worthless, that I would never do well again.

And then I thought about how ridiculous it was. How on earth could anybody put a figure on another person’s potential?!  I thought about my beautiful daughter, the moment I first saw her newborn face and perfect tiny fingers and fingernails, and of all the amazing potential she held within her – a whole life’s worth! I thought of how each one of us is a miracle of infinite potential. I realized that this number that had been limiting me for so long was just that - nothing but a random number on a page – and bore no resemblance to who I was as a person. And I made the conscious decision to throw it away.

Since then, something rather magical has happened. I have stopped saying ‘no’ to projects just because I thought I wasn’t worthy of them. I have stopped thinking of myself as a failure, limited by past hurts or disappointments. I have started valuing myself, and in the process, properly valuing other people (because they have unlimited potential too!) And the work has come flooding in – so much that I can barely keep on top of it!

I had heard of the power of positive attraction before, but I’d never really realised that my own self-doubt was the very thing that was holding me back. Once I had plucked that painful stone from my sub-conscious…I found I was able to dance!

So my message to others reading this and perhaps holding onto past hurts or feelings of disappointment or failure is this…don’t let others limit your potential. Don’t let others put a percentage on your abilities, because you have within you all the resources you need to do whatever you dream. 

Wishing you peace and blessings, always x