Do you rely on others to validate you? (walking out naked)

New covers“For there’s more enterprise / In walking naked.” ~ W.B. Yeats

Here I go again.

My four novels all have new covers, to re-launch my writing career with my new name. I feel like I’ve just bought a strange new hat and am wearing it for the first time. I think it suits me, but I could be horribly wrong…

Most of us would rather everyone liked our hats.

We ask our friends what they think and then we pay close attention to their reaction. Are they just being polite? We ask again. We ask some strangers and share a photo of our hat on Facebook. One person pays us a compliment and we get a nice warm glow. Another pulls a face and we put the hat in the back of the cupboard and never wear it again.

This is the trouble with relying on others to validate us and our hats. When we become constrained by this needing-to-be-approved-of, it limits our ability to do our best work. Our best work might alienate the people we’re currently in touch with. It might ask disturbing questions and raise people’s defenses. It might be just ahead of the zeitgeist. 

Gez Smith talks here about how addicted most of us are to these ‘positive strokes’, and yet: “…to do our most interesting and creative work, we need to get away from this need for approval, do something genuinely new, and do it because you believe in it, not because others will approve of it (although it’s nice if they do).”

Some people will like these new covers, and some will much prefer the old ones. That’s okay. Some people will like my books, and some people will hate them. That’s okay.

I love them. I love my characters very much – Ruth, Leonard, Violet & Joe. I love the stories they have to tell, and I have faith in the message they are taking to the world.

I shall wear my strange hat with pride. What about you?

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You can buy the books on kindle now, but we’re officially launching the novels on the 10th of May with a free online event, ‘What I Live For‘. People will be writing or making art about the things that make their lives worth living. If you’d like to join us, read more here or say yes to our Facebook invite and invite your friends.

Creativity Interview with Salena Godden – Poet, Performer & Writer

SalenaSatya writes: For years I’d heard Salena’s name around and about the poetry scene, and then somehow we met online and made friends… We’ve yet to meet in real life but I have a feeling we’d get on just fine. I’m very happy to welcome Salena to our series of creativity interviews today.

Welcome, Salena. What drives your creative work?

Like many poets and artists my work comes from observations of human nature, of noticing the small things, of seeking the humour and the tenderness in the world.

Also like many I’m driven by a need to share and to be heard, to be read, but above all a drive to finish what I feel was started a long time ago, back when I wrote my first ever ABC.

What would you say to yourself if you could go back in time and meet yourself at the beginning of your creative career?

Never, never give up.

How do you keep creating when things get difficult?

There are many rules to writing and keeping the creative dough rising, the most efficient way to stay creative is to switch off electronic goods, unplug all phones, go into your cave, grow a beard, eat dry cereals from the box for dinner,

you are the last person on earth that can do THIS the way you do it, so do it, act like you will have nothing to do with another human being, ever again, before you know it, you are speaking fluent house fly

and the flies will tell you to quit but you keep going, the mice will laugh at you, but you still keep going, in spite of the sense of futility and the fear of failure and the fear of success and all those obstacles,

the obstacles are good, they are like the side of a swimming pool, something to kick, push from, its important to remember we never climb a well from the middle, its even more important to make a routine and stick to it, get up when

the moon is setting and go to bed when the sun is setting, write in the moonstone coloured silence of watching the first light of every day and do nothing but work at it and do it and do it and get it wrong and get it right and get that bit

wrong too, but don’t go baking bread or defrosting your freezer, don’t clean your teeth or look in any mirrors, not until it is done and finished, then slam the door on it, walk out into the pouring rain, barefoot, in your underwear, stand in

the middle of the road, tip your head back, with black rain falling into your eyes, scream up at the stars, whhhhhy, and with that glorious scream the answer will be because you told yourself you could.

How does your creative work affect the rest of your life?

I am afraid there isn’t much ‘rest of life’ – writing, hustling, performing, larking about with microphones and music – kinda always was my life, which became my work, which is my job, which has a large element of play.

What is it like to send your work out into the world?

Exciting sometimes and scary sometimes – We are not ever what we intend to do or say, we are what we already did or said intentionally.

What was the best advice anyone gave to you?

I love this “Smell the roses on the way along, hold on tightly when you are strong, and when you have to let go gently.”

The best advice people give me is to be myself and be true to that voice

What helps you to pay attention to the world?

Colour. Light. Laughter. Warmth. Music. Change.

Somedays i want the word for everything, the right word, the best word.

Other times i enjoy colour, noticing exact tones or shades of colours, of sunsets and distant fields, oceans and peoples eyes…

Lately its been my ears, i have been listening keenly, recording and experimenting with music and sounds.

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Bio: I write and perform poetry, short-stories, memoir, radio drama and lyrics. My most recent book of poems, Under the Pier, was published by Nasty Little Press in 2011. I have written a literary memoir titled ‘Springfield Road’ it is signed to Unbound crowd funded books. I’m known as The General of The Book Club Boutique, host and producer of London’s louchest literary salon. I’ve appeared on radio as a guest on Woman’s Hour, The Verb and Saturday Live and most recently wrote and presented a documentary, Stir it Up! – 50 Years of Writing Jamaica for BBC Radio 4. I have been variously described as ‘The doyenne of the spoken word scene’ (Ian McMillan, BBC Radio 3’s The Verb); ‘The Mae West madam of the salon’ (The Sunday Times) and as ‘everything the Daily Mail is terrified of’ (Kerrang! Magazine)

“Honest, grippingly readable, funny and uplifting, (Springfield Road) is the pilgrims progress of a brave young woman into adulthood, poetry and music.” Maggie Gee OBE

‘Springfield Road’ by Salena Godden is here.
Please help us publish this book and pledge your support at Unbound – crowd funded publishing.

On trying not to be seduced

Bakewell Tart by esimpraimThe sun was shining. We were sitting outside my favourite cafe, tucking into a damn good bakewell tart. I was telling my friend that I had recently remembered something crucial.

like being a writer and a psychotherapist.

I write in the morning, and I see clients in the afternoon and evening. Both of these activities take a lot of a certain kind of concentrated energy. To keep myself nourished, I need to balance my writing and client work with plenty of reading poetry, growing vegetables, learning new things, eating cake with friends, spiritual practice and cat-stroking.

This year I’ve said ‘yes’ to lots of extra things. Doing workshops at festivals, teaching mindful writing, running retreats and psychotherapy training days. These things are all good and I enjoy them very much, but too many of them start getting in the way of the simple life that I want. So why do I keep saying yes?

I say yes because the invitations are seductive. They appeal to the part of me that wants to be super-famous. That wants to be friends with people who garden on television or write for the Guardian or do funky things on a national level. That wants more and more money or more and more attention.

It is taking me a very long time to realise that these things take me away from what is important – quietly contributing what I can as I sit at my old school desk and tell stories or witness the deepest pain and joy of the people who come into my room once a week.

I need to say more ‘no’s to say ‘yes’ to this way of life. It’s that simple. And that complicated.

What do you get seduced by? When does it pull you off track? What do you need to say ‘no’ or ‘yes’ to? Tell me in the comments…

In other news… Most of you know that I changed my name from Fiona to Satya last year, and on Friday May 10th I’ll be re-launching my career as a writer. To celebrate asking people to share their writing or art about what makes their lives worth living on the 10th. Find out more here and invite your friends on Facebook here.

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Bakewell Tart by esimpraim

The difference between need and greed (how to get what you want)

Garden Buddha by Original BlissSatya writes: Today two builders came to look around our garage with a tape-measure.

Kaspa & I recently returned from a retreat in Belgium, where we’d fallen in love with our host’s shrine room. It was on the end of the house and the whole back wall was glass. We sat zazen in the mornings and it was as if we were in the garden, although a little warmer (as the flakes of snow drifted slowly down…)

The two men this morning listened as I described my dream of having an extra room out the back of the house, with lots of glass, where we could do Buddhist practice, read poetry & sip earl grey.

It’s good to have dreams. Dreams take us forwards in life. My particular Satya-ish dream is of a garden shrine room. For someone else it would be to own a Harley Davidson or go on a round-the-world cruise or to make a best-selling album. If we don’t dream it, it is unlikely that we’ll get it.

We get into trouble, however, when our future plans take on a particular compulsive quality. It’s like the difference between offering something to someone with open hands and pushing it on them. Not ‘would you like?’ but ‘oi, you, take this!’

There are a few signs that this is happening. We become preoccupied with our shrine room and it interferes with other areas of our life. We can’t imagine being happy without our shrine room. We try to manipulate things in order to get our shrine room. We feel that we need a shrine room. We feel it’s our right. We bore other people talking about it. Recognising any of the signs yet?

We’re often most compulsive around our plans which are a big old prop to our big old self. Having a garden shrine room fits right in with my favourite views about myself. “Oh, I’m the kind of calm, spiritual type who dedicates a whole room in my house to Buddhist practice, don’t you know? Where we can look out into the beautiful garden we’ve made, being as I’m such an expert gardener. What have you got in your spare room? What, an old broken hoover and piles of junk? Oh you poor thing…”

What can we do when our goals tip into greed? The first thing is to notice. The second is to be curious about why this particular goal is so important to us. Which part of our identity is it propping up? The third is to consciously loosen our grip and to hold our goals more lightly.

This third bit is the tricky bit, of course – a lifetime’s work. There are some things that help – putting our focus on others rather than ourself, spending time every day doing something which connects us with something bigger than ourselves (like writing small stones), practising gratitude, finding ways of strengthening our faith…

And the good news is that even little shifts away from ‘me’ and towards ‘everything’ can have a big impact on our experience of our lives as we live them.

And here’s the really annoying/wonderful bonus. People (and the universe) can sniff out desperation, and we end up like hungry ghosts with tiny mouths and huge empty stomachs. When we can hold our goals more lightly, paradoxically, we’re more likely to achieve them.

So. I’m ready for my garden shrine room, now, Universe. But I don’t really need it… there, am I being less needy/greedy yet? ; )

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Garden Buddha by Original Bliss with thanks

Creativity Interview with Roger Housden, writer.

Soundstrue coverKaspa writes: It’s my great pleasure to welcome Roger Housden to our Creativity Interview series. I’m sure that I don’t need to introduce Roger very much, as I imagine his work is very well known to you. However for those few of you that don’t know him, Roger has published twenty books, including the six volumes of the best-selling Ten Poems series, which began with Ten Poems to Change Your Life in 2001.

All his books, whatever the subject – poetry, art, or travel – aim to inspire himself and others toward the examined life. Maria Sharapova, the tennis star, has called his book, Seven Sins for a Life Worth Living (2007, Harmony) “one of the most inspirational books I have ever read.”

He runs small weekly writing classes in his home on writing as a spiritual practice, with an emphasis on memoir. He will be running online writing courses with a spiritual perspective later in 2013. Join his mailing list for details: www.rogerhousden.com or visit him on facebook.

What drives your creative work?

Irrepressible curiosity coupled with the need to clarify and articulate my own responses to the world around me.

What would you say to yourself if you could go back in time and meet yourself at the beginning of your creative career?

You have no idea where you are going, and that is exactly as it should be.

How do you keep creating when things get difficult?

If you mean when life gets difficult, then that can often be grist for this writer’s mill. If you mean when the writing gets difficult, I very rarely experience that, and when I do I take a walk in the woods.

How does your creative work affect the rest of your life?

It helps me to be more alive to the sense world in which I live and also to the inner world of thought, feeling and reflection. It encourages me to see possibility in seemingly intractable situations.

What is it like to send your work out into the world?

When I have finished a book it disappears pretty quickly from my inner view, and reappears almost as a surprise when I first receive a finished copy. Then I feel anticipation and interest in how others are going to respond to it – because I really have no idea what impact it will make on anyone else.
What was the best advice anyone gave to you?In writing, be personal and self revealing ( Philip Roth said a writer must be shameless.) In life, Rumi, when he says that

This longing you express
is the return message.

What helps you to pay attention to the world?

The willingness to be without an agenda, to do nothing, especially nothing useful. Then, walking helps me return to the pace of the animal world, which encourages my senses to come alive.

Thank you Roger.

A confession

invisible butterflyKaspa writes: Once a month, around this time, Satya and I get anxious moths and butterflies fluttering in our stomachs. This happens when we still have places left on our e-courses. This morning Satya asked the universe what we should do, if there was anything we could do to fill the spaces. The answer that came back to her? Just wait. Satya asked the question out loud and the answer that floated into my own consciousness was – be patient.

That said, why am I writing this post now?

I reflected on the implications of being patient, and wondered where my anxiety had been coming from. When the courses fill they give me a particular kind of validation. I quit my job a few weeks ago, and I’m still waiting for my private counselling practice to build into something I can rely on financially. All of this, plus the last minute nature of sign-ups for these courses plugs into an anxiety that I won’t be able to support myself. Satya ends up feeling this too.

This starts to cause problems when it infects how we talk to you about what we do. I wonder if the email you had a few days ago inviting you to join our e-courses came from this place of worry, rather than a much deeper feeling that we have.

A couple of days ago I had a one-to-one session with an e-course participant and it reminded me just how good the materials we offer are. They are a transmission of ideas and reflections and a particular kind of space for exploring that we have learnt from our own teachers, and that I have found invaluable in my own life. I have seen it have a profound effect on some of the people who take our courses. Of course it’s also true that some people sign up and we never hear another word from them… some of these will have had great moments of insight, and some of them will have let their engagement with the course slide because of their busy lives.

This is why I am writing this post this morning – because I want to get back to the root of why we started offering these mindful writing courses in the first place. Because we believe that when you engage with them, it can change your life. We want to bring you closer to what is true – and we have seen people doing this over and over again on our courses.

This month we are offering  Writing Ourselves Alive and Eastern Therapeutic Writing. I’m also running the Creative Boost package The Way of Getting Things Done, for people who want more one-to-one engagement and support in getting their most important work done.

The courses start today but there’s still time to register: click on the links to find out more, or email kaspa@writingourwayhome.com. We also still have a couple of low cost places left for people on lower incomes.

Notice what it is that motivates your actions today. Are they coming from a place of anxiety, or somewhere deeper and more settled? Do share your reflections in the comments.

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Transparent butterfly by thefost

How much of you can other people bear?

Y. Tanaka Moonlight BlueSatya writes: How much of me can you bear before you turn away?

How much of my need? How much of my jealousy or my manipulation? How much of my anger?

Over Easter, Kaspa & I travelled to Belgium for a Mondo sesshin with our Buddhist sangha. I met with old friends from around the world and we shared practice, discussion, food, laughter, tears and time with each other.

One of our group members stirred up a great rage in me. I couldn’t bear the way they were behaving in the group. They were the most awful human being on earth. I wanted to leave.

Later, when my fierce emotion had subsided, I saw quite clearly what had happened. This person was doing something that I’d never allowed myself to do, and I was jealous. This person was showing me the part of myself that I found utterly unbearable. When the emotion had subsided, I could see quite clearly what a gift it had been to have my attention drawn to this cut off and lonely part of me.

If we spend long enough around other people, we will love them deeply and hate them with a great intensity. This is what it is to be human.

Mostly, we stir other people up in this way without our awareness (this person still has no idea how I felt about their behaviour, although I’ll probably share it with them another time). There’s no getting away from it. Sometimes, we can make a choice about how much of ourselves we show to our friends and loved ones. This is a terribly difficult choice. We show the dark parts of ourselves and risk being rejected, or we keep them hidden and know that we’re only showing a mask.

How much of me can you bear?

This dilemma about how much of myself to show others follows me when I think about marketing our e-course offerings. If we want to be very popular, maybe we should aim for something bland and palatable. Something with clear steps and proven results. 

Unfortunately, we don’t think our courses are bland. They offer an experience which is complex, which depends greatly on our participants, which asks difficult questions and takes people into unknown territory. Experiences which stay with you. This is what we do best, and as time goes on I’m learning to apologise for it less.

During the week, our teacher spoke about our sangha as being a bit like Marmite (which most people either love deeply or can’t stand). It’s intense. It’s honest. It kicks a punch. It’s not for everybody. And, he said, that’s just fine.

If you do want to see how you feel about the Marmite-flavour of our e-courses, you have three two choose from which start on Friday – Eastern Therapeutic Writing or the coaching package The Way of Getting Things Done with Kaspa, or Writing Ourselves Alive with me. Registration is now open & places are limited. We’d love to have you along. Especially if you’re ready to experiment with you much of you other people can bear…

(The image is one of the Yoshikazu Tanaka prints me & Kaspa recently saw in the Wetpaint gallery in Cirencester. I can understand that his art won’t be for everyone. But I gazed at it and, bit by bit, fell into deep deep love…)

small stone Sunday

Pebbles on a tableSatya writes: Here we are with our second ‘small stone Sunday’.

Have you written any small stones during the week?

If so, hurray. If not, it’s okay – you can write one today! When you’ve written it, post it here in the comments.

If you’d like to make a proper commitment to a new mindful writing habit, do look at our Mindful Writing Booster with an essay about small stones and then 31 daily prompts and suggestions delivered via email.

I look forward to reading your small stones. Enjoy!

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‘Pebbles on a table’ by Simon Cocks

Creativity Interview with Jamie Catto – genius music-maker

FakeKaspa writes: I’m really pleased to bring you these answers from Jamie Catto as part of our Creativity Interview series.

Jamie Catto is the creative catalyst, co-producer and director of the double Grammy nominated film ‘1 Giant Leap’ which sold over 300,000 albums, and won numerous awards globally. He’s also a founder member, singer, art director and video director of the Dance Music super-group Faithless.

Jamie and his partner Raisa Breslava run workshops throughout Europe on: ‘What About You?’, ‘Transforming Shadows’ and ‘What About Intimacy’.

Hi Jamie, what drives your creative work?

the mission to create a mirror for the audience – to dissolve limiting beliefs and definitions which keep us enslaved

What would you say to yourself if you could go back in time and meet yourself at the beginning of your creative career?

stop worrying, it’s wasting energy, hurting, and going nowhere good

How do you keep creating when things get difficult?

ha! I create BECAUSE things are difficult :)

How does your creative work affect the rest of your life?

it allows me to communicate what’s in my heart to millions of people

What is it like to send your work out into the world?

exciting – like a message in a bottle – you never know where it will go

What was the best advice anyone gave to you?

keep going, you will get a break

What helps you to pay attention to the world?

my breath

Thanks Jamie! You can follow Jamie on Twitter here @JamieCatto and find out more about his 1 Giant Leap project, workshops and other work at http://www.jamiecatto.com/

Are you as judgemental as I am?

Fog by s schmitzSatya writes: Yesterday I was driving across the country towards Bath. It was morning, and a heavy mist was drifting down onto the road like a veil. I noticed that one of the stream of cars coming towards me didn’t have their lights on, and I tutted to myself. Didn’t they know that it was dangerous to drive without lights in these conditions? I imagined them distracted by their radio or their busy thoughts – they really should have been concentrating on their driving. Tut tut tut.

A teensy bit judgemental? Yes. But wait until I tell you what happened less than a second before I made these judgements.

I noticed that the cars coming towards me had their lights on. I noticed the thick white mist. I turned on my own lights.

Less than a second. I caught myself and smiled in amusement, marvelling at my capacity to forget my own mistakes so I could point out those of other people more comfortably.

I don’t think I’m unusual in this. We all make squillions of judgements about others – and we all make squillions of mistakes.

What helps is for us to become more aware of ourselves and our judgements – to watch ourselves as if we were watching a mystery, curious, without adding any more judgements on to those we already make. With objectivity, and with kindness.

If we can get this teensy bit of distance from ourselves, we can really start learning about what makes us tick. As we become more aware of how we work, we can catch ourselves more often before we take any action from our judgements. We will be more likely to remember the depth of our own foolishness (deep!), and this will give us more patience with others when they are foolish too. Through an acknowledgement our foolishness, we become ever-so slightly better people.

Mindful writing is one good way of developing this ‘curious observer’. Writing in our journal or writing small stones gives us a chance to take a step back. Try it today and see. And let us know what you notice about yourself, if you’re feeling brave! And here’s my free e-book about mindful writing.

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A reminder that our next batch of mindful writing adventures start next Friday – registration is now open. You can Write Yourself Alive with me, explore Eastern Therapeutic Writing with Kaspa, or Get Things Done with The Way of Getting Things Done.

Fog by s.schmitz