“Close the door. Write with no one looking over your shoulder. Don’t try to figure out what other people want to hear from you; figure out what you have to say. It’s the one and only thing you have to offer.”

Barbara Kingsolver

I (still) don’t have a door to close. I now have a spare room to call my own. My craft room. My “writing” room. Except I’m still perched at the end of the table in the kitchen. My writing cabinet holds the essentials: a caddy full of my favorite writing sticks, my current notebook, a planner, some books on creativity, cookbooks, mixology books, wine, and wine glasses.

I haven’t figured out what I want to say. Yet. I’m opening myself up to whatever story wants to be told as long as I’m brave enough to tell it. Julia Cameron says I need ask for guidance, and I do, but I must be blind to it. I’m a looks-too-hard type of person, making things harder than they need to be. I also like simplicity, so maybe it’s too simple because I thrive on complexity.

However, isn’t simple…complex? I think there’s a depth there few people are able to extract from effectively, a shallow looking pool that somehow becomes an abyss. With no one looking over my shoulder, I let whatever wants to be said, be said. Some days it’s in the saying where the figuring out happens.

Despite some changes to routines, I signed up for year four of this writing challenge. My only expectation is to show up every day. My morning pages have faltered from daily to weekends, but this will bump me back in the right direction. With spring teasing us, I’ve been sitting in the backyard under the twinkle lights, taking my pen and notebook with me, a sweater for the chill that unexpectedly curls itself around my shoulder. Half finished books on writing are opening up again. My mind is opening up again.

I’m also looking at other routines that have seemed to have slipped away. I re-assess. Are these things I need to continue doing? It’s okay to let some go and replace them with something new. Do they need replacing? I’m working on decluttering my space, but I also think decluttering my mind and responsibilities opens me up to welcome whatever comes my way. It’s acceptable to leave space wide open for a while. Why the rush to re-clutter?

This fourth year of slicing, I’ll focus on figuring out what to say. I’ll close the door behind me and enter the backyard in the evenings, before days get too hot and mosquitos feast on me. Pup will chew on mulch while sitting at my feet. I’ll start a cozy fire, careful not to accidentally pick up a lizard dwelling in the pile of wood. I’ll open my notebook and start writing whatever needs to be said.