Writing is healing. Writing is a way to let go of the past and move forward, to be right here in the moment. Writing unravels the issues within, writing releases the creativity within. I have many stories within, and I am blessed with both fiction and non-fiction writing, more so memoir writing. I don’t have any troubles letting the imagination run loose; in a blink of an eye, I can see a story unfold. Here is a little glimpse of how creativity quickly can take over. This is excerpt is from my Hospitality Memoir: Behind the Kitchen Doors ~ Summer 1:
I loved canoeing on the Lake. I would paddle out to the middle and let the canoe float around as much as the lake would let me. I glided my fingertips on the surface of the chilly waters (only a few degrees above freezing). As I got closer to the middle of the lake the color would change from clear turquoise to a dark murky green almost purpley black. I’d look over the edge of the canoe and wonder what mineral feed creatures lived down at the bottom.
Sis: Maybe an ancient type of dinosaurs like Loch Ness or Ogopogo.
Marion Ann: I wonder why they don’t have a legend at the Lake?
Sis: Too snobby for this place.
Marion Ann: True, it was named after the Queen’s daughter.
Sis: Not saying we can’t have fun with a story.
Marion Ann: Maybe a type of mermaid. Maybe a whole village. The lake goes deeper than anyone knows.
Sis: I like it.
So, did I liked when my imagination was stirred up and I had a story within a blink of an eye. The Lake had mystical energy and I wanted to dive into the deep waters to feed my passion for writing.
Now I should explain who Sis is. Sis is me, Sis is the voice that whispers to all of us. I like to introduce Sis as my sassy-pseudo-guardian-angel, who says what’s on her mind, which is essentially me speaking my mind. She helps tell my story.
When I reread this memory I’m taken back to those moments when I worked at the luxury resort in the Canadian Rockies. I had the privilege to canoe for free when guests were charged up to twenty dollars an hour to say they canoed on a national park lake. I loved when I stared over the edge of the canoe, gazing into the water, wondering what lake creature would pop up to see what lived beyond the surface of their watery existence. I would daydream about these fictional characters more than I thought I would. I would be serving my guests in the dining room, looking out at the lake wondering what the movie would be called if there was a screenplay that went with my daydreams about this magical and mystical underwater alternative life. You can clearly see how my imagination turns on quickly and wants to run wild. So why not? Stand aside and let creativity take over. I love the creative process! Then why am I having a hard time lately to get to the page? I clearly want to be writing and the ideas that enter my mind are crying out to be written. I only have one person to blame, me. I am in the way, along with the sofa and Netflix. So I’m breaking up with the sofa.
I’m getting up from the comfortable routine that the ego is holding onto and dragging me down with it. I’m walking away from the TV shows and movies that will always be there to watch when it’s time to zone out but not now, not any longer. Creativity and I have had enough. Not that I spend hours sucked into House of Cards or Netflix Original movies, but it’s too easy to sit down and get sucked into the promise of a funny and exhilarating movie that will surely leave you with laugh lines.
I’m breaking up with the ego. It’s a process, the ego has been around for a long time and I’ve had moments where I can clearly see the true self, the writer I have known for even a longer time. Yet, there is a moment where the ego slips in and a week goes by and you haven’t written a damn thing and wonder what Walter White and Jesse are up to.
Like any break-up, it may take time to not miss the sofa and curling up with a cup of tea and watching one of my favorite Woody Allen movies. Now it’s time to take that cup of tea to the writing room and write my own movies. Hear-hear! The creative cheerleader enthusiastically confirms as I sit down and begin to write.
Until next time, keep on typing. . . .
I should also mention where the Lake is located. Without giving it away, it is in a town called Lake Louise, Alberta. If you would like advanced Free chapters of my Hotel Memoir, please sign up for my Newsletter. See you there!