BLOG
Where the Water Meets the Earth Day
Eight long months have passed. Finally, the moment I have been longing for. I’m standing at the edge. I am home.
Water. Sky. Frigid spring sand cradling my white winter feet.
It happens to be Earth Day, but that is just a coincidence. I am much more interested in the ocean than I am in the earth right now.
I call myself a mermaid who accidentally found herself living in the mountains. Over the almost twenty years since I left Cape Cod, the only thing more troubling than a landlocked existence is the way I’ve almost stop noticing the dull ache of my separation from the sea.
But finally, I am here. And I feel… nothing.
Maybe it is because my head is full of stories that are about everything but the natural world. Perhaps it is the habitual lack of sleep that makes it hard to be present in the moment. A lot of my distraction is due to the effort it takes to keep a two year-old from falling into the freezing cold water while she tries to wade after sister.
Either way, I feel like a failed mermaid and an Earth Day flunkie.
Luckily, the Bay will be there tomorrow. The sky and the sand and those squawking gulls will be too.
The Earth and her waters and her ceaseless winds have a way of forgiving us not matter how many times we forget and lose our way.
Thanks, Mama.
Dance Camp by Guest Storyteller Sara Eisenberg
I walk into the plain box that is the main studio bearing a small notebook, a water bottle, and a body trained from age four to classical ballet’s five stylized positions - turned-out hips, port de bras and all. Ignorant of the terminology, elements, rules, of modern dance. Ready to risk moving in unaccustomed ways. Age 68. De-conditioned.
Am I nuts? Or am I home? I am a Dancer of the Third Age, captured by this iconic image that hangs on my wall.
It’s taken me 28 years to drive 42 miles to the Dance Exchange, but here I am.
We move out from the opening circle walking randomly, casually pair up for counter-weight stretches, grasp with hands or elbows, pull away. Keep moving, lean on and into one another, form shifting sculptures of three or four. Flock together, following the changing leader, ever shifting to sync with other bodies. Practice not replicating but capturing the essence of a partner’s movement. Preliminaries to creating dance together.
We tell our stories and “found” gestures emerge - a sweep of the arm, a shift in gaze, height, level, or direction. We play with these gestures like words snipped from magazines, and build movement phrases, sequences, experiment with them as solos, duets, chorus. Later, spoken words are layered in. Even later, music.
I am unmoored by the absence of music. Sequence flusters me. Brow furrowed, I ask again: break this down for me. Ever seeking flow and smoothness, I am immersed in this staccato movement all week: break it down, re-member a sequence, work it through. Others waiting for me. Waiting. Waiting.
Still, I am willing to be the only one standing when everyone else drops to the floor, to forgo a jump and instead lift a leg, to drop a movement altogether.
I walk out of the studio at the end of camp with a few scribbles in my notebook, an empty water bottle, and no injuries. Praising.
Limitations have become less encumbrances than shifting opportunities to shape choreography, relationship, life. Secret chords that please: Hallelujah gestures, broken down, broken open, holy.
Sara Eisenberg grapples with honesty and kindness in daily life in Baltimore, where she practices as a healer, herbalist and creative inquirer. Connect with her at www.alifeofpractice.com
Do you have a story to share? Of course you do.
Your Next Story Is Hiding In Your Favorite Little Details
Some people remember exactly what everyone ordered during that special meal. Others have a vivid recall for the phase of the moon on an important day.
Personally, I have fashion memory. I can tell you exactly what I wore from head to toe the night I met my husband. (And yes, I still wear that denim jacket twelve years later.)
The shoes I wore to my unexpected date with destiny just hit the bottom of the trash can, however. During the last big rain I realized that the cosmetic issues on the soles were in fact structural deficiencies. Turns life is too short to wear leaky shoes - even if they do have great sentimental value.
The details make the stories
What little things do you tend to notice? Those observations form your unique point of view. They allow you to tell the authentic story that only you could tell.
My husband wouldn’t remember my outfit and he certainly wouldn’t remember what he’d worn himself. But now, the story of how that redhead at the end of the crowded bar in New Paltz knew there was something about that guy with the sweet smile - even though he wore a tie-dyed Harley Davidson shirt, tapered legged jeans, and boat shoes - that’s essential to the “how Mike and Marisa met” legend.
Your favorite details also inspire your stories
The details that are special to you can also help you decide which stories to tell.
Though my first date shoes are long gone by now, I was reminded of them when I tripped over another pair of sneakers that have been sitting in middle of the hall for much too long. If “the clothes make the man” is true, then apparently “the shoes make the memories” is valid too.
What little details stand out to you? How can you make a practice of noticing these details and put them to work in the stories you write?
How to Write a Strong Story When You Feel Less Than Strong
Making blogging, newsletter, and other content marketing details when you're sick, stressed, or sad... It's one of the toughest parts of running a practice or a small business because, let's be honest, you're pretty much always writing this week's material just days or hours before it goes live.
What happens when life or your mood gets in the way of getting yourself in front of your audience?
First, ask yourself: MUST I get this written today?
That depends on several factors, so go deeper and ask yourself a few more questions.
Are these self-imposed deadlines or did you promise a guest post or something that is going to print?
When another site or publication is waiting on you, writing becomes a job you simply need to do. I suggest you set a time, sit down in that chair, and put words on the page. Call in a friend or an editor to help you bring it up to your "I feel fabulous!" standards if you're having trouble connecting your ideas and connecting to readers.
Breaking a promise to yourself is no easier than letting down a colleague or an editor, but it may have fewer longterm consequences. Can you forgive yourself for posting on a Friday instead of a Thursday? If you're not in the middle of a big launch cycle, can you skip on the newsletter this week?
When you set publication schedules for yourself, be clear about your own boundaries. Be realistic and be compassionate with yourself.
In my case, a #365project offers ZERO wiggle room. Daily means daily and skipping a day seems like a really big problem. The pay off on showing up every day is huge, but there is a big price. I admit that I am looking forward to a nice, manageable weekly project for 2017! (Editor's note: by mid-May 2016 I realized that a daily publishing project was a terrible idea for me.)
If you decide you MUST write even when you're not feeling like yourself...
Look into your own working style. How do you handle other projects when you just don't feel good?
Are you more successful when you muscle through (and then take a much needed rest after)?
Or, are you more productive if you are tender with yourself throughout? Do you thrive with lots of tea breaks and gentle stretching and doing the work in the corner of the couch wrapped in your favorite blanket?
What if writing wasn't a chore? What if it was your solace?
When you are writing a post that comes from the heart, try to look at blogging itself as part of your own healing process.
After all, as a therapist or healer or creative being, many of the issues that your ideal reader faces are likely related to low energy and longing to get the zest back. People appreciate it when you meet them where they are - though do remember that your job is to offer hope and some sort of next, positive step.
Write from a place of quiet and restoration. Let the message be soft. This post may take way longer to write than it "should." Let that be ok - especially if the the alternative is "I feel crappy" default mode whether that's a Netflix binge or staring vacantly at your Facebook feed.
Write what feels good today and call that your "self-focused first draft." Get to bed early tonight and come back to things in the morning. Then, thanks to the gifts of distance and perspective, you can tighten up your sentence and paragraph structure and look at the whole piece in terms of the needs and interests of the ideal reader.
Need help deciding how to look at your writing through the eyes of the ideal reader? Start by learning the Story Triangle.
Writing Prompt: Write Something “Useful”
The bar you set for product development should be the same bar you set for marketing—especially content marketing. People should know what they can expect from engaging your content and how it will help them transform something about their life or business. This cannot be vague. It cannot be hyperbolic. If you want it to be effective (you do), it needs to be incredibly specific and measurable. People need to be able to know when the objective is reached.
A promise to help you live your dream life or “crush it” in business is not a promise that can be kept. It’s not a good value proposition. It cannot be measured.
This comes from a Tara Gentile post that totally opened my eyes to some of my own blind spots when it comes to writing and content marketing. I’ll be diving into all that throughout this week’s #365StrongStories posts.
In the meantime, I invite you to take a first step toward thinking about how to ground your stories in something real and measurable.
Take an incident or a moment of inspiration from your weekend. Something that made you say “I wonder if that would make a good blog post?” Write down a first draft that focuses on your thoughts and experiences. Then, walk away and come back and craft a second version that helps your ideal client “transform something about their life or business.” Be a bit strict with yourself. Cut away the fluff and refuse to be vague or hyperbolic. Be real and be helpful.
Send that second draft to me or tag me when you post the final version on your blog and social media!