Thank you for joining me in the gloaming
The page is blank. The curser blinks. I am frozen.
This is what I’ve feared.
That I’d begin to write and every brilliant idea that has been scratching around in my brain for months, like bits of sand in an oyster’s shell slowly turning to pearls, would instead disintegrate upon inspection, disappearing into the ocean of ideas flowing through space and time, leaving me with just the memory of possibility.
And a stomach ache.
“What would you tell someone who came to you with this problem?” my internal editor asks, reminding me that not all internal editors are evil confidence destroyers, that my job is to walk with people through creative transformations, and I need to do for myself what I do for others.
“Just write,” I whisper to myself. “Say yes to the moment, be present in whatever you’re feeling, and take a step forward. There are no mistakes, there is no failure, there only is this moment and then the next.”
So I continue to type.
…………………………..
There’s a box that sits on my desk - my dining room table, actually, which has only been used to serve meals a handful of times in the decade since it was purchased. Instead, it serves up words and projects and work, but mostly an incredible amount of paper, notebooks strewn about, piled here and there, pages fluttering as a breeze sneaks in from an open window.
The box is an empty tissue box containing hastily scribbled notes and quotes and ideas, ostensibly for my next book. But in reality the box is stuffed with things that bring me joy, make me think, and reminder me of who I am and why I’m here and where I’m going. Things that I want to investigate later, when I have the time.
There is always time, if we make space for it.
It’s time to make some space.
This is not the first box of ideas. There are many boxes and notebooks tucked here and there in my home, paper and pen always handy when an idea strikes. I use these for workshop exercises and writing prompts and reminders of who I am and why I’m here and where I’m going.
The current box contains note cards labeled “blog post ideas”. Topics that fall under a common theme that I’ve been exploring for a decade or more and that have been pestering me to find life on the page.
Life in the gloaming.
I’ve always loved the word “gloaming”, that moment just after day ends and just before evening falls. It’s the beat of a sparrow’s wing when the world shifts and light morphs and time slows and we can be at peace with transformation because everything is possible and nothing is necessary and we simply are present in the moment.
Nowhere. Everywhere. Exhaling what was, inhaling what is to come, neither here nor there but simply in between.
In between is a lovely place.
My lovelies, I can’t promise anything more with this blog than to move forward one step at a time, pulling a topic from the tissue box and ruminating on life’s liminal spaces, the penumbra of the transformational journey, and the beauty that is found in the gloaming. I’ll share writing prompts and maybe some flash fiction and even some creative collaborations. It will be what it will be, and we will be there together.
I’m glad you’re here with me, beautiful human. Let’s explore together.
~ Joanne Brokaw
author, artist, creative coach
connect. inspire. change the world.
PS: for more about me, my work, events, classes, etc visit my website.
