Comparing ourselves to others is a certain death to our confidence.  Comparing ourselves to others is a form of separation and division. When we compare ourselves, we typically see ourselves in a diminished light. (Oh, I’m not as good a writer as the others in this circle). At times we may see ourselves as better than others. (Oh, I can do better than that.) Both divide you from within and without.  From within you are divided from your creative and vulnerable self. From without, you have put an invisible wall between you and others.
 
Comparison is always a death roll. It will always diminish you.  Write about that.
 
Instead,  consider the beauty of contrast. Seeing and creating from contrast is an invitation to celebrate differences. An invitation to stay in the conversation and learn from one another or from our surroundings. Contrast is a display of variation and how differences interact and effect each other; like how light contrasts with the dark. Or how your writing contrasts with mine.
 
As I walked through Stewart Park yesterday, I witnessed the shadow of the trees appearing on other trees. The hoarfrost sparkled on the green and browning path. The contrasts of light and dark and shadow made my walk spellbinding.
 
The shadows gave character to the light. Recognizing differences from a contrasting point of view rather than a comparison point of view, will offer up more to the creative mind.  If I had been comparing yesterday’s walk with the day’s before I may have missed the grandeur of this walk.
 
In our writing and life how can we transform our drive to compare into a beautiful contrast?  Write about that?
 
What are the contrasts in your life and stories?  Write about that.
 
How have you compared your present day self to the past or future self? Write about that.
 
How has your comparisons separated you from others? From your creative self?  Write about that.
 
What and to whom do you compare yourself? Write about that.
 
How can you transform all your comparisons into a beautiful, invitational contrasts? Write about that.

​Before I knew your name
 
Oh Beloved! I have darted over bear grass
Fields in thunderstorms
Dancing, rejoicing your
Name before I knew your
Words on my lips.
 
I knew you then as that
Tension in the air
Before it storms
The swift movement
 
My fishers cap caught
In the wind
And those quiet evenings
With the young British Soldier
On the porch
Of the hut with frosty windows-
Them inside, us outside
My companions playing cards
Drinking constant comment tea
Courtney circling her hand
On the window
To peek at us on the deck
This glacial night
Me on tiptoe
Leaning over to brush his
Lips with mine.
 
During this time of my life,
I knew you only as
The loons knew you-
My eyes too tired to open,
The smell of the musty green
Tent and last night’s bug spray
And hot coco on my lips.
 
But still I would rise;
Walk to the water’s edge
The stillness like solitude
In prayer
Although my lips did not yet
Utter creeds
But songs
 
Welcoming the dawn light
The launch of my solo canoe
Wood gliding though water,
My paddle careful to carry me to
The ridge where I would
Greet the day.
 
Before I knew prayer
My body moved
In your name.
A dance of rejoicing
With your creation.
 
Now I read from script
Now I utter creeds and promises,
My ankles thick and
Aching
For the temple of
Pine needles and hot coco
And thunderstorms,
My simple
Breath
In a canoe
At dawn.        –Frances Corry 

Frances Corry lives and writes in Madison Wisconsin. She has a BA. from University of Wisconsin- Madison in English/Creative Writing, and an MSW from University of Chicago. Combining these backgrounds, she works with groups of older adults to help them write their life stories.  She can be contacted at franciecorry@gmail.com . She has been in Julie Tallard Johnson's Writing circles, and is in the Mentorship Program that Julie offers. "Writing is a deeply personal, vulnerable and spiritual endeavor for me.  Julie has been instrumental in helping me explore and put to the page the little and big miracles in life. " (Frances) 

Join Frances and other writers for my three free FIRST FRIDAYS to retreat, write, connect.  First Friday's of December, January & February.  On January 1st I will take you through the process of creating a writer's VISION BOARD, scripting & writing first paragraphs of your stories! Email me to sign up (room for 5 more): julie@julietallardjohnson.com.  (Free but a donation will be welcomed.) 

As many of you know the writing program though the UW, Madison Continuing Studies is closing June, 2021.  My FINAL CLASS offering through that program is coming up in February: The Vulnerability of Writing Nonfiction: The Threads of Autobiographical Writing  Each session will have lessons on the journey and the craft of writing nonfiction. This is for those working on a nonfiction project, be it an essay, a memoir, or a blog series or spiritual teaching memoir. Each student will have their subject and theme defined along with a path to creating and developing their ideas. In Option 2, you’ll send in up to ten pages of your work for consultation and guidance and receive a 20-minute one-on-one Zoom session about your pages. ​6 sessions; Feb 1, 8-9, 15, 22-23.  

February 19, 20, and 21
RISE! a live online Yoga and Writing Retreat
Experience Freedom and Transformation
12pm CST on Friday, February 19 to 12pm on Sunday, February 21
During this restorative and empowering retreat, come back to your true self on the mat and the page. We’ll combine yoga, breath, meditation, and writing prompts to explore and access our pain stories in order to live our most authentic and fulfilled life. 

This Yoga and Writing Retreat is about listening to your body and using your voice. We tend to the pain story or emotion to free our mind, body, and soul. 
During this retreat you will:

• move, breathe, and write to access and address parts of your inner Self
• learn radical acceptance and self-compassion
• eliminate guilt, shame, and fear as they relate to your past and pain stories
• learn to trust your inner teacher through yoga
• increase resilience and calm the Central Nervous System with breath
• increase your body’s balance and flow
• use writing and sharing circles to rewrite core beliefs and heal from trauma
• use meditation to heal the brain and free stuck energy
• cultivate a better understanding of your authentic Self

REGISTER!Testimonials from attendees
“Life changing. Loved the pairing of yoga and writing. I feel so fortunate to have worked with 2 masters, Julie and Molly. Absolutely blessed!” – Jeannette
“The combination of yoga and writing was fantastic. It made me explore my writing at a much deeper level.” - Jean
“The blend of yoga and writing moments was comfortable and empowering. I loved the ease of the weekend.” – Patricia
“This was amazing. The combination of yoga and writing has been very powerful and enlightening! Very transforming. So glad I came.” – Dona
“I loved it being on zoom. I loved being in my home. I love being in that studio room now where this retreat took place for me. It holds the energy. I was so comfortable here. There were no awkward transitions. No mindless chatter. Focus all the way.  Online is my new favorite way to be on retreat!” - Carla
“The beautiful serendipity of the whole thing.” – Maria
“The two of you brought me to tears so many times this weekend. Keep shining your lights.” – Liz

REGISTER!
Daily Schedule:
Friday, February 19
12:00pm CST – Join video chat, Welcome, Engage
1-2:15 p.m. – Centering Meditation and Yoga Practice with Molly – Yoga as a Path of Inquiry
2:30-4:30 p.m. – Writing Time with Julie: Opening up on the Page: The Inner Labyrinth of Transformation and Realization
4:30-6:00 p.m. – Dinner break and writing & Exploration time
6:00-7:00 p.m. – Writing prompt: Writing Our Personal Experiences (Pivotal Moments) Writing toward Understanding
7:00-8:00 Restorative Yoga Practice: The Body as an entrance to our emotional Self.


Saturday, February 20
8-9 a.m. — Yoga with Molly – Allowing all things to be present at once
9-10 a.m. — Breakfast break
10-11:00 a.m. — Introduction to Samskara
11:00 – 12:30 — Writing Practice with Julie. Transformational Writing: Heart Centered Practices that lead to Transformation.
12:30 p.m. — Lunch break and Individual Writing Time & explorations
3-4 p.m. — Afternoon yoga and Pranayama – Engage in the Joy and the Challenge - the path to Self
4 p.m. — Writing circle with time to share and listen. Led by Julie.  
5:30-7 p.m. — Dinner break and open writing time
7-8 p.m. – Restorative Yoga Practice – To move from an integrated core; Trust in oneself


Sunday, February 21
8-9 a.m. – Yoga with Molly – Powerlessness and its connection to nonviolence 
9-10:00 a.m. — Breakfast break
10:00-11:00 –  Dharma and. writing prompts for the road
11 a.m.- 12:00pm — Closing Circle

On my recent bike ride on Military Trail I stopped at the Wishing Tree.  I stopped because I am practicing bringing an attitude of youthfulness to my experiences and choices.   I have past this tree for 3 years now.

I'm attending another Sunday Series with David Whyte, and a microdiscipline for this week is: "Growing younger toward our death."  Or, How can we bring a youthfulness to the threshold we stand on now?  So, I stopped at the Wishing Tree (picture below). Each day I open up to a more youthful approach to something that arises at my doorstep. 

Another microdiscipline is to ask ourselves upon rising: What is the invitation being made to me?"  This of course can be brought into any circumstance or conversation. 

What is the invitation here? Write about that. 

How can I make this winter of COVID and uncertainty more invitational? How can I grow younger into my aging?Mostly I am keeping the questions active in my heart as I write, as I wake, as I move through my day. He points out too that those places that are not invitational or conversational are dangerous, and need to be left behind.

How can you grow younger toward your death?  Write about that.

What invitations are here for you?  Write about that. 

Am I in a place that is not invitational for me?  Write about that.

We end our Al Anon meetings with: "Keep coming back, it works if you work it, and you're worth it!"   And we are. We are worth it.  Keep coming back to the page. Keep coming back to what nourishes you. (Write about that). Express your worth and youth by showing up and coming back to what is meaningful to you.

What is meaningful to you today?  Write about that.

Join us. the Yogi & the Writer for a truly transformative 3 days in February: 

RISE!: Transformational Writing andYoga: 
Restorative•Integrative•Soulful•Empowering.  An upcoming WINTER retreat by Molly Chanson and Julie Tallard Johnson.   Save the dates:  February 19th, 20th & 21st .  REGISTER HERE: RISE! Join Molly and I for a unique experience of writing, contemplation & yoga. ​

Join me for the FIRST FRIDAY'S in December, February & March.  A day of gathering live (on-line) with me, guiding you with some writing prompts, holding space to write and ending with a writing circle. 9 am till 5:00.  A love offering is welcomed but not necessary.  Limited to 15. Email me for more details & to register. 

"We're so high on progress that we allow a tiny segment of the population to create the narrative of the world." -Ailton Krenak,  Ideas To Postpone The End Of The World

Tyrants winning an election is an old story, mostly known to us through the news and histories of other countries. His Holiness the Dalai Lama had to flee his country at the age of 15; Tibet now left more to the imagination than a place we can visit.  About ten years ago the Dalai Lama gave up his role as a political leader to give his full attention to his role as spiritual leader.  

When I got out of bed this morning, after being up most of the night I wondered what role might I give up, like His Holiness, in order to live a life I am meant to live now. I wondered what giving up would look like. What role no longer truly serves me or others?   Would giving up be more of a giving in and letting things unfold as they will? A form of passive-aggressive rebellion? Should I give up my role as author? 

Is there a role I am fulfilling that is preventing me from attending to another more important role? 

This is a question worth exploring.  

We can't let our imaginations, our dreams, our stories or our love be hijacked by a tyrant or by  any real threats to our humanity.  We have to keep writing our stories, speaking up, joining in, believing in and finding our way to each other.  We have to purposely chose our roles in this shared story. 

Many people identified with His Holiness as their political leader.  But he believed it served humanity more to let go of that identified role. 

What roles might I be in that are preventing me from finding my way to what is truly meaningful in my life?  What role do you identify with that may be preventing you from living a truer role?   Write about that. 

What are the roles you live right now?  Write about that.

What promise might we have to break to fulfill a new role?  Write about that.

What do you identify most with?  Or what do others identify as your role in their lives?  Write about that. 

The Four Reminders

the buddha reminds us that because we are born 
we will die, because we are born we will lose everything and everyone we cherish,
that we will encounter sickness and change. . .

because this is true, what is meaningful?

bullies will continue to show up on the play grounds
the fungi will recycle the dead,
though everything will end
often things will be okay

the tyrant will leave the playground
​bound too, by laws of nature.
broken toys and abandoned swings
will be brought back to life or
recycled into something else

Let's see what we can do to stay in this conversation––
be born, lose everything, die
we are so fragile
and beautiful
we live with so much uncertainty
​
with all that love in between. 

Please, let's find our way 
to each other.
​

​I find returning to my novel, or to my daily meditation practice, or to letter writing, or to my daily walks through Stewart Park to be a particular challenge during these COVID times.  How do we get back into what is helpful to us? 

Writing as it turns out is a lot like a meditation practice.  We spend a significant amount of time off the object of our meditation (typically the breath).  So, in our meditation practice we have to practice bringing our awareness to the distraction and then return our awareness, our attention, to the breath (or object of our meditation.) Much of our meditation is then returning to the breath. 

Same with writing. 

I realize that there are writers out there that are with the page consistently every day; Stephen King, for instance. And there are meditators who likely rest in the breath without wandering off to other places, having to remind themselves to return to the breath. His Holiness the fourteenth Dalai Lama comes to mind.

The page calls to us, we want to give it our full attention but our attention is often elsewhere. We have to clean the sink full of dishes first, pay the bills, stare at the wall, do a load of laundry.  (Check Twitter). Our daily routines or distractions interrupt the best of our intentions. 

Then something remarkable happens—we realize that we are off the breath, or are not doing what we really want to be doing, which itself is a moment of awareness, and so we then return to the breath, or find our way to the page. This can and will happen again and again, if we are truly practicing. This returning is an integral part of the creative process. Now, into my forty-some years as a writer and meditator, I can trust that I will at the very least return to the page, return to my meditation, return to the breath. I will never wander off so far that I cannot find a way back.

The way back to the breath or the page or the canvas, or to whatever creative promise you have made, is in becoming aware in the moment of where you are, and then, where you want to be.  

I have been practicing this of late:  I ask myself "is this what I want to be doing right now?"  So, I gently check in with myself.  If doing the dishes is exactly what I want to be doing, then I bring my awareness to this and finish cleaning.  I find more enjoyment then!  If my response is that I want to be on my walk, I put my dish sponge down and get me walking clothes on. (This also makes my dogs happy as they witness me getting my walking shoes on!)

Then at night, when I may be settling into a show on Netflix, I ask myself again: 

"Is this what I want to be doing right now?"  (Asking with compassion, just a gentle checkin.)

Sometimes I return to my novel; sometimes I watch a rerun of West Wing. (I'm on the 1st season). Sometimes both. (But not at the same time) 🤓

What matters is that we give ourselves something to return to, be it the breathe in meditation or the novel you are working, or the walks through the park. We then return to these acts of self-kindness when we find ourselves wandering too far out beyond the boundaries of our creative or spiritual life.

I also frame it like this: it’s not so much that I should stop eating so much sugar, but that I want to return to a healthier diet. Name what it is you want to return to. 

"The paradox seems to be, as Socrates demonstrated long ago, that the truly free individual is free only to the extent of his own self-mastery." Steven Pressfield, The War of Art 

What are you giving yourself to return to?  Write about that.

What is it you want to be doing with your life?  Write about that.

 Join Molly Chanson and me for 3 Sunday's in November to help you return to what is important
Sundays, November 8, 15, and 22, 2020        11:00am - 12:45pm (CST)

3 Sundays in November with The Yogi and The Writer:  Nurturing the Deeper Self   Reach places within that nurture and strengthen your fearlessness and passion. Develop trust in yourself to further open and receive this season of your life. Listen and allow for what you love. Come to a deeper recognition of what you want and dream to be now.  Includes writing prompts and time to explore on the page and an hour of yoga. 

“Synchronistic meetings are like mirrors that reflect something of ourselves. If we want to grow spiritually, all we have to do is take a good look. Synchronicity holds the promise that if we want to change inside, the patterns of our external life will change as well.”   Jean Shinoda Bolen. (author of The Tao of Psychology: Synchronicity and the Self).

Synchronistic encounters are a tangible clue to how to let our lives be deeply meaningful. They offer us perceptions and insight into how we may live a life that resonates with our inner callings. Our life is full of these meaningful encounters, be it with each other, a wild creature, events, dreams or physical accidents. 

These meetings appear as divinely tailored somehow by an invisible hand that opens up our life. Often disrupts the present current of our life. These are invitations to take notice! These synchronicities often take place in our vocational life.  As a writer (just so for anyone in the healing professions as well), I recommend that we keep synchronicity in mind. Jean Bolen refers to synchronicity as the ultimate "match maker,"  bringing many significant others into our lives. As a therapist and Writing Sherpa, my clients and mentees often share how a set of circumstances brought us together.  

Write about that!  Write about significant encounters or events that you have had, and how these are match makers,--matching you to your soul's journey and to the truest meaning and path of your life. 

These encounters are energized with emotions and creativity. The emotion may be antagonistic or they may be affirmative or antagonistically affirmative.  They always hold archetypical and mythological depth to them.  This is one reason in my work with writers that I invite you to explore the myth and symbolic language of your stories. There is always this thread of myth and synchronicity throughout our life and stories.   Writing brings what is often unconscious to the conscious level.  An encounter may be synchronistic but we may miss its message if we don't have a language to identify it as such. 

Poetry, journal writing, taking notes, writing our letters and our stories down gives these meaningful coincidences a language. 

Writing can bring together our inner and outer worlds. 

Make a list of meaningful events and encounters. A list of synchronistic encounters. 

To whom or what did these encounters match you to?   Write about that!

What and to whom are you matched to now?  And what were the events that brought you together?  Write about that!

What is outside of you, is inside of you.  Write about that.

“You have the need and the right to spend part of your life caring for your soul. It is not easy. You have to resist the demands of the work-oriented, often defensive, element in your psyche that measures life only in terms of output - how much you produce - not in terms of the quality of your life experiences. To be a soulful person means to go against all the pervasive, prove-yourself values of our culture and instead treasure what is unique and internal and valuable in yourself and your own personal evolution.”
-- Jean Shinoda Bolen

Join us, the Yogi & the Writer for 3 Sundays in November to Nurture the Deeper Self.  Reach places within that nurture and strengthen your fearlessness and passion. Develop trust in yourself to further open and receive this season of your life. Listen and allow for what you love. Come to a deeper recognition of what you want and dream to be now.  Come spend 3 Sundays opening and receiving the gifts of self we always carry within us.11:00am - 12:45pm (CST). Sundays, November 8, 15, and 22, 2020

“While everyone has a different experience of what is soulful, these experiences do share similar beginnings. We start by giving ourselves permission to be soulful, to take seriously this aspect of ourselves, our soul and our soul needs.”
-- Jean Shinoda Bolen

When writing about bullies in an autobiographical book it’s best to find that golden blend of human character. Very few people are pure evil or without hope. When writing about an abusive or alcoholic parent one might share the history of this person to give some context or perspective.
 
Then there are the exceptions.
 
Some people are villains made flesh and may not reveal or have access to any redeeming humanity. Some may be bullies through and through.  When this is the case, we must be brave.  I recommend a strong determination to name a bully a bully, to name their cruelty and abuses whether that person be an abusive brother, priest or a president of the United States.  
 
The context of such real-life dark characters may simply be how that person got to be so cruel.  An example of this kind of read is Mary L. Trump’s book:  Too Much and Never Enough:  How My Family Created the World’s Most Dangerous Man.
 
In response to the bullies on and off the page, a fearless compassion is required. Fearless in writing whatever we choose.  Compassion toward ourselves and our readers when exposing the tyrants among us. 
 
Shame breeds in secrecy and so does the power of the bullies and tyrants. They want us to shut down and to shut up.  Our stories may cause discomfort and even grief in ourselves and our readers, but our shared stories will help us and future generations navigate such dark terrain.
 
Our written word is that light through dark times, especially when our personal stories includes our own encounters with this darkness.  And, how this darkness affected us.
 
As I’ve expressed before, the written word is a superpower.  Bullies want us to shrink, to hold back, to not speak up or share our stories. They certainly don’t want us to bring light into the dark corners of our life and experiences. They hope our embarrassment, shame or fear will stop us from coming out into the open. 

(Sweet little girls don't write about such things.)
 
Bullies invade and occupy space.  They interrupt, physically intimidate, control the timing, puff themselves up, ridicule, threaten, blame and do so relentlessly. Nothing we do or say will necessarily stop them or heal them. But your shared story can generate in yourself and your readers the resolve, determination and courage to live our lives in full and in the open.
 
We can stop shrinking and disappearing from the conversation.  We can hold our ground.  We can take up space on the page and off.
 
My oldest brother was a bully, a cruel con man, and now he is a sad, old alcoholic who still bullies his way through the scenes and people in his life. I have written about him in articles and books. His name is Rob. I shake a little bit as I share his name. Not because I’m afraid he will come after me.  I shake because I feel the energy of breaking that culturally endorsed silent agreement to never speak the name of our abusers.
 
 
How have you been bullied or abused?  Write about that.
 
Who bullied or is bullying you?  Write down their names.

Where have you felt yourself shrink?  Write about that.
 
What have you left out of your story?    Write about that.
 

I carry a couple field notebooks with me to collect ideas, jot down something I notice or to remind myself of a good line to place in a piece later.  My notebooks fill up much slower these days, since the pandemic touched every part of our lives. There's only so much I can jot down about what I see from my window or yard.

I do get out for my daily walk through Stewart Park with my dogs, where I use my phone to take notes. 

All I have to do is say, "Siri, take a note."  She doesn't always get the message or word right, and sometimes the message is utterly lost in translation. I wonder what I meant by "the carrot spoke in rhymes."  Later then, when I give myself an hour or so, I take out my field notebooks and notes to Siri and place them somewhere. Most of them have a place to go: my journal, a blog, into a poem, a manuscript, or a note to someone. Some are a start to an article or possible project. 

As I walk a familiar but changing path through the park, ideas arrive as invitations into another conversation. 

Here is what I found on Siri of late: 

She wears her unhappiness like a tight skin.

Our abandonment anxiety plays out in the present in ways that it first showed up in the past. 
​
We never know where the story might take us, that's why we allow it to take us where it will.

Fascination comes with a realization, but then we must release the fascination and live the realization, otherwise it becomes a fascination with a moment that has passed.

(idea for my novel):  She feels her power through the connecting tissue in the earth and she needs to do that to rejuvenate, to reconnect she can't go without connecting like that, so she has to make sure she's in a nature a lot, like all of us.  So, that's one way for the bad guys to weaken her is to get her in a room of concrete.

Those who can't lead, divide. 

I don't know because I wonder.

Let the light break me open like a bud.

“The vision of the beautiful city was in her, the wide streets, the towers of marble, the tiled and bronze roofs, the white-sailed ships in harbor, the marvelous throne room where sunlight fell like swords, the wealth and dignity and harmony, the order that was kept there. From that bright center, she saw order going outward like the perfect waves on water, like the straightness of a paved street or a ship sailing before the wind: a going the way it should go, a bringing to peace.”   - Ursula K. Le Guinn, Tehanu.
 
Back in my early thirties, my therapist recommended I read Tehanu.  A book he felt was a quintessential read for me. A read that could help me claim the inner child that had been somehow wounded and consequently went into hiding. I read that book (in a night) and later, the accompanying Earth Sea Trilogy.  (Tehanu is actually the 4th book, but can be read alone.)
 
The story mirrored my life.  The book gave me inward and outward vision.  
 
To have vision is a superpower.  To be given this power of vision through a book is the gift that every writer gives to readers.
 
Most who come into therapy have lost their vision (or misplaced it somehow). They have lost, or never discovered, their inner callings, their dreams, their intentions.  Anxiety, sleeplessness, physical illness, depression and a deep sense of grief, or disconnect, may guide us to seek help. At such times we are likely experiencing what Parker Palmer refers to as the divided life. We are somehow divided from ourselves.
 
As a writer you are driven by a calling and vision. The strength of your vision and connection to that inner calling the stronger your commitment is to the written word. Once you have awoken such a vision it is harder to deny it than it is to follow it. Listening in this way may be painful, it is certainly heroic and transformative. 
 
In these shared dark times, and these times are dark and threatening, holding on to or moving toward our writerly (creative, spiritual) vision is an essential.
 
Writing our way into a better way of being is essential. 
 
Writers are essential workers.
 
We offer up our words and stories as gifts to our readers through fictional and nonfictional material that they use to create their visions.  This is radical. Sometimes sharing our stories is an act of defiance against those who want to silence us. 
 
What book are you reading now, or poem, or blog that inspires you with vision? Hope? Ideas?    Write about that.
 
What vision do you hold that wants to be shared through story?  Write about that.  

Who is trying to silence you?   Write about that. 
 
Can you see how essential your work as a writer is for yourself and your readers?  As I have shared before, if this blog reaches just one heart and mind, that is worth my effort. You are worth my effort.  I am worth my effort. To write this blog, or my books, first gives me this gift of visioning. That is the transformational magic of writing: as writer we first get the gift of our own words and visions.
 
Then we gift our readers.
 
Here are a few ways to encourage you to listen to and write from your visions:
 
Do not let circumstances define you. Know that we can ask the questions we need to ask that moves our life forward, in any circumstance.
 
Identify and ask the questions of this season or threshold of your life. What are you exploring now? 
 
Practice ways that keep you connected to that inner calling and knowing. (Meditation, walks in nature, counseling, prayer, listening to songs or nature, contemplation, journaling, yoga . . .)  
 
Live life from your side, (don’t drive in other’s lanes), live the zero point agreement, while meeting other’s half-way.
 
Remember you have nothing to prove and everything to explore and share.  
 
And when you can, join up with other writers.
 
“Only in silence the word,
only in dark the light,
only in dying, life:
bright the hawk’s flight
on the empty sky.    ­. - Ursula K. Le Guinn, Tehanu

 
Free Yogi & the Writer first Wednesday Nights of the Month, from 6:30 till 8:00. Such a great combo!:  Writing and yoga for an hour and a half.  Email Molly Chanson to get on the mailing list. 

RISE!: Transformational Writing and Yoga: 
​Restorative•Integrative•Soulful•Empowering.  An upcoming WINTER retreat by Molly Chanson and Julie Tallard Johnson.   Save the dates:  February 19th, 20th & 21st .  REGISTER HERE: RISE! Join Molly and I for a unique experience of writing, contemplation & yoga.