Writer’s Burrow—What does your safe writing place within look like? How are your writer’s requirements met?
Every writer needs a writing room. What about a burrow…a hole or tunnel dug into the earth to create a space of temporary refuge….and where your thoughts and feelings can inhabit themselves freely, on paper.
Dig a deep hole to bury your sorrows. Bury them, do not forget them. For, they are alive and will burrow their own tunnel until there is a cozy place underground, just big enough to turn around in, just big enough to curl up on the white fluff of wild geese down inthe corner beneath the curried sheep’s wool. On this soft bed, you will be safe.
This is your place to dream. It’s a place to cry. A place to shrivel up, but not die—not yet, not yet—because in the underground burrow are all the suupplies you need for consolation and later, for resussitation.
There’s a cupboard filled with chocolate and music and friends who peer into your heart and say words that come from deeper than their lips. These friends understand writers. They leave you alone when needed and come when beckoned.
This writer’s room is your world. It’s a safe and cozy womb. No, you are not buried alive, you are planted here, sown here by the grace of goddess and who can say what words will shoot up and what flowers will bloom from this green stalk planted in the darkness of your underground writers room?
Burrow in the darkness of your nurturing writing burrow. Pick up pen and let it all go…let it all flow.
I am in a dark place within my soul. It is filled with a nurturing presence that I know well. I am told to create, along with this presence. I am held in the warmth of an embrace. I feel the smile from my helper. He sometimes allows me to hear the voices of those I write about. They are real to me, with substance, form, personality, humor. They are sometimes filled with grace. And yet, they will not become bothersome spectres, but loving friends. They are part of me, and I a part of them. They laugh with me, cry with me.
At times, I am bathed in light. There is the place that I go when I need to feel the warmth of the sun on my face, even when there is not much of that in my “real” life…and it feels good.
When I write, I often feel frenetic energy surging through me. It is often this way with “bad” people in my writing. But always, always, there is the nurturing and healing being that helps me. He is my mentor, even my muse. And when I am upset in this process, I lean back and feel the safety net that he has placed around my shoulders. I sense his presence, and things become calmer, more relaxed…even serene.
Barbara,
Thanks for coming to comment. I love what you wrote about being sustained. I love the range you have from literacy work to your new novel “A Tempest Forged.”
May all be well in your life and your writing life.
Janet
Thank you, Janet. You know, I really enjoyed it! It was such a nice little exercise. Sometimes, I need these little gems in order to remind myself of the purpose in writing.
Thanks for giving that to me. And thank you, also, for you kind comments.
Barbara.
Dear Janet,
The beauty of this vision takes me to a place of rest and restoration which my writing soul and living soul greatly need. I love the imagery and will return to it often as I will post it here at the computer to serve me on a daily venture.
Thank you for your gift.
Arletta
My imaginary writing room would be in a gazbo in the middle of a lake where no boats are allowed!