Start a timer. Write for five minutes. Nothing more. Nothing less. When the timer stops—you stop—even if you are mid-sentence. Go.
Jack Kerouac wrote a list of his 30 beliefs and techniques for modern prose, one of which was, “Write what you want bottomless from bottom of the mind.”
Evoking images of the ocean, my own mind is a mystery. One of the many brilliant writers in this community shared about going to Antarctica twice. They said, “It’s amazing beautiful and devoid of people. Yet, life moves on each day. Penguins thrive, whales and seals thrive, and it doesn’t matter to them if my life has meaning.”
I reckon it doesn’t matter much to them if their life has meaning either. From the sound of it, whales are too busy being bottomless. Maybe they do have existential crises which we cannot fathom. Perhaps a penguin wrestles with the question of “what’s it all for????”
Or maybe it’s just our minds that get in the way of our unfolding. We cling to our thoughts and as we sync up with our phones and technology more and more, we lose the sanity that comes with nature.
“Touch grass” is such a perfect command to those terminally online
