Do you fantasize about creativity in your weekly schedule? Time to do what you dream of doing while you’re doing all the everyday things you’d rather delegate to someone else?

A friend recently commented that it would be so nice to have time to spend writing and I recognized the wistfulness of her words. When you’re busy with unsatisfying-but-necessary work, errands, chores and responsibilities you might fantasize about being able to do anything creative that would get you out of your busy, boring rut.

You want a change of pace, a breath of fresh air on the horizon of your days and nights that seem to repeat with no variation, no inspiration. And your hobbies–that instrument you’ve always wanted to learn to play, that novel you’ve thought about writing, etc.,–the “other” you remains dormant while the grown-up in you carries on the business of living.

But who will give you the permission to try something new, take up that interest that’s been nagging at you, if you don’t? It’s terrifying, I hear you, to take those first steps away from the familiar and find yourself happily lost in a new direction. But I encourage you to go in that direction. Start by carving out short chunks of time in your schedule to make your real life look like your dream life. Give yourself permission. Pick yourself, as Seth Godin always tells us.

A painting afternoon with girlfriends, a candle making evening, a photography lesson, a free writing workshop at the public library, an introductory yoga  or dance class, or joining a birdwatching club or writers’ group.

Make that appointment with creativity. You’ll be so glad you did!

Here we are, a week before Thanksgiving, and the pace is picking up. The holiday school concerts are on the calendar, there is a Dickens production at the Hangar Theatre my daughter and I might go to, we have concerts and parties planned. I’m thinking about what new recipes I’d like to try for dinners and desserts and have already begun decorating for the season. Advent begins two Sundays from now and I still need to make a wreath or centerpiece and find a new book to read to guide me through the four weeks. But I am continuing to be firm about scheduling white space.

What do I mean by that? Time to think, reflect, pray, write, read and simply be. Time for my inner life–my soul–time to breathe. As modern people, we feel the business crowding out our days and nights. We think we can fit just one more activity or responsibility into our lives and everything will be alright. But just as we need to make time to sleep, prepare and eat healthy food and exercise, we need time for soul care. Time to quiet ourselves, listen for the stirrings in our hearts, examine our lives to see if we are living the life we mean to live and make adjustments if necessary.

“Quietness is the beginning of virtue. To be silent is to be beautiful. Stars do not make a noise.”

–James Stephens

It’s hard to go deep if we are always going. It may seem like a waste of time in our results-driven culture, but it isn’t. Your entire life will benefit from regular reflection and stillness, from rest and quiet.

“I don’t think we spend enough time in reflection and introspection. We don’t know who we are as individuals in this culture anymore.”

–Naomi Judd

You might have to put earbuds in if you live in a noisy place or take a walk into the woods or down the road. Trade with your partner for quiet time if you have small children. Put the kids to bed early like my mom used to do. (There were four of us and we had to be in bed by 7 each night so she had time to herself.)

If you are an extrovert, the idea of regular times like this could seem frightening or at least boring. But I want to leave you with a quote from Henri Nouwen in which he said that deepening your inner life will enrich your relationships with others:

“Solitude is very different from a ‘time-out’ from our busy lives. Solitude is the very ground from which community grows. Whenever we pray alone, study, read, write, or simply spend quiet time away from the places where we interact with each other directly, we are potentially opened for a deeper intimacy with each other.”

–Henri Nouwen

I’m one of those oddballs that doesn’t mind gray weather. I enjoy the rain, fog, and clouds because the landscape is cocooned in mystery and is being nourished from the heavens. Cold weather is alright with me as well. It could be precipitating or all bright golden sun and clear blue sky, but if it is chilly enough to require a hat, coat and gloves, I breathe easy and my soul smiles.

Here in between Cayuga and Seneca Lakes, the temperature fluctuates this time of year. We had a nearly 70 degree day last week–warm, humid, sunny and summery. Then on Saturday night, the wind started howling, it turned colder and we had rain and fog through Tuesday.

By Wednesday morning around 7, while waiting for the bus, one of Alan’s boys told me it was only twenty degrees and the mid-day temperature wouldn’t reach more than the lower 40s. It did feel rather chilly. In this drafty, old and large house we keep the space heaters on and the central heating low, especially at night. I pulled a knitted hat on and wore an extra sweater as I boiled water for my coffee and made my daughter a sandwich for her lunch. Because the clocks just went back, we weren’t completely in the dark; the sun was coming up to say hello as we prepared for our day. When my daughter went out to the car ahead of me, I heard a familiar sound: the scraper against the car windows. That’s right! The ground was coated with frost as was my vehicle.

But it’s November, so it’s time for darkness, rain, chill and bluster. It’s time to crunch through the leaves on a dry day and make a pot of soup and curl up by a heat source with a good book when it’s raining. Or even snowing! This is what November in the Finger Lakes is like. We very well could and probably will have a few more mild days. But today I’ll revel in the cool brilliance that the season brings us and not wish myself anywhere but here. I love where I live.

What are your thoughts on the rain, cold, darkness and occasional sunniness of November in the Finger Lake? Or what is it like this time of year where you live?

If you’ve ever tried to rest while at home, for a staycation or just a day off, you know how difficult it is not to get caught up in work of some kind. If the house is cluttered, or dishes or clothes need to be washed, or I think about when was the last time I mopped, it is hard to relax. You actually have to develop a practice of resting. It sounds crazy, but it takes work to rest well. Which is probably why in religious circles where Sabbath is observed, the day before is a time to clean and cook and prepare for the time off. Then when the day comes, it feels so good to spend the time doing nothing or doing what you enjoy.

Some of my favorite things to do:

• Reading
• Hiking 
• Listening to an audiobook (Yes, I know, it’s reading too)
• practice painting with watercolor or acrylics
• playing piano
• writing a song
• writing anything
• napping
• watching a movie       

Do you have a regular rest day? Do you struggle practicing this or do you have a habit of resting? What does a rest day look like to you?

This week brought a return of summer weather. It’s hot, hazy, and sticky outside and, by mid-afternoon, even the cool interior of this 19th century house has succumbed to the wave of warmth and humidity. No matter the temperature, my reading list is alive and active. Usually, I read at night, but on occasion, I sneak in a few chapters before dinner or in the early morning.

Here’s what I’m reading now:

Thunder and Lightning: Cracking Open the Writer’s Craft by Natalie Goldberg. Every short chapter stirs my imagination, pokes at my inhibitions and challenges me to be as real in my writing as I can be.

The Silent Corner: A Novel of Suspense by Dean Koontz. Jane Hawk is the brave, tough, smart and sexy heroine trying to uncover the what, why and most importantly who behind a series of “suicides” that includes her own husband. I’m halfway through and it is fast-paced and full of action and suspense.

The Swan Thieves by Elizabeth Kostova takes the reader on an intricate journey that weaves between the present and the 1800s. I am over halfway through this book and as unsure of what it’s really about as I was in the first couple of chapters. A mad artist and the women who love him are interspersed with scenes and letters of people from long ago. How do they connect? That’s what I want to find out.

The One-in-a-Million Boy by Monica Wood brings the lives of a quirky centenarian, a musician and a librarian together to learn of her past and attempt an entry into the Guinness World Records.

Real Artists Don’t Starve: Timeless Strategies for Thriving in the New Creative Age by Jeff Goins is a positive book declaring that artists can make a living and be successful doing what they do best–creating. Each chapter has examples of people who have thrived with their art. Jeff shares principles that creative people need to incorporate into their life and work if they are to move forward and support themselves with their art.

Beauty: The Invisible Embrace by John O Donahue has been a book I’ve savored a few paragraphs or pages at a time. Almost every sentence makes me stop the book down and ponder the significance of his words and bask in the turn of phrase and way he thinks about life. It is rich, imaginative and emanates beauty. I’ll continue to take my time with this.

Daughter of Smoke & Bone (Daughter of Smoke and Bone) by Laini Taylor is my first YA read in a long time. It’s set in Prague and there is a young artist with blue hair and other supernatural characteristics. I think I’m going to like it.

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What are you reading now? I’d love to hear all about your current reads in the comments.

Alan and I had a fun, full weekend with a gig both Saturday and Sunday. We got to see our friends who showed up, to talk, have a drink and enjoy the places we played at. Bandwagon Brewery just opened up practically around the corner from us and we are thrilled to be playing there once a month at least through the end of this year.

On Saturday when we played there for their Grand Opening, our friends Mimi, Bill and EJ from the Busy Bee came. Some other Bee people came too, but I don’t know their names yet. Judy and Jim were there–my friends of several years. I always ask Jim about sound because he knows what he’s talking about and knows how to make the sound quality great.

On Sunday we played at Barrett Marine in Geneva where our friends Dennis and Sandy have a boat. Dennis got us that gig, which was sweet–playing for a few hundred people while they ate their lunch and chatted. Then we hung out with Sandy and Dennis by their boat for a couple of hours. The day was bright and not too cool and I soaked up the end-of-summer feel.

When we got home and unpacked the equipment, I was exhausted but felt the pull of the sunlit Sunday evening and decided to take a walk. The lake flirted its blue shimmer, the cornfields threw off their golden glow, the cows stared as I passed the first farm and horses watched me from far away as I turned a corner. The Amish must’ve had a wedding that day because the road was busy with a steady stream of horses and buggies on their way home.

I remembered the feeling of summer’s end from when I was small. My mother and siblings would come up from Brooklyn and stay with my grandparents in Interlaken all summer. Right before school started, we returned to the city and I felt so sad to leave what I thought was Paradise behind. The woods, meadows, lakes, fields, waterfalls, birds and other wildlife all would go on through the fall, winter and spring until I came back for another summer. I hated the idea of missing it all. I wanted to see the leaves turn, feel the air become cooler, hear the mornings grow ever more still as birds migrated South.

So there I was walking past farms and woodland with Amish going by feeling as thankful as I knew how that I live here now. I trudged up the hill homeward as the stars came out and sat in the gazebo listening to the night sounds. I heard two barn owls, dogs barking, someone singing far away, more Amish horses clip-clopping on the road and even saw a shooting star. The peace of this place soaked in and filled me with contentment. Eventually, Alan slipped out of the house to make sure I was alright and we sat together enjoying the end of a delightful day.

I’ve been reading at the speed of tortoise this spring, one page at a time. It’s this crazy time of year with two teenagers and all their school events. Can I get a witness? If I have five minutes, a book, paper or Kindle version, is at the ready and I gulp down whatever words I am able to.

I’m determined to finish  The Truth According to Us before this week is over. I look forward to a happy review. Let me just say that if you like To Kill a Mockingbird and/or Go Set a Watchman (don’t hate!) you will enjoy this story set in the blazing hot Depression-era South. The Romeyn family wrapped me around their collective pinkies and won me over.

The non-fiction book I’m edging close to the finish line with is Todd Henry’s Louder Than Words. I’m a regular listener of his podcast The Accidental Creative, which I recommend wholeheartedly. He inspires and encourages and helps me see things from different perspectives. I will be wiser for having finished this book.

A big YES to poetry! I am reading David Whyte’s Everything Is Waiting for You. Poetry is important for people even in 2017. Here are some articles to sway you if you’re a doubter. David Whyte speaks to my soul. He makes me uncomfortable with his words. Tears start and smiles come unbidden as I read. Feelings I’ve never spoken aloud are articulated and I know I’m understood. Read poetry! Read his poetry and tell me you’re sorry. I dare you.

It’s the last day of January and the snow and cold testify of winter’s presence. As I’ve mentioned before, I enjoy the relative sleepiness of the Finger Lakes in winter. Everyone slows down and stays at home more. I certainly do. This is when I read a lot, reflect on my life, make plans, practice piano, write, watch movies, and generally feed my soul.

In the hope of encouraging others to enjoy life, I want to share a few habits that help me every day.

• Good coffee made in a Chemex
• multivitamins/ supplements in a weekly pill box
• Smoothie for breakfast
• Exercise
• Bullet journaling
• Eat greens, especially kale
• Read (an article, a poem, a chapter or several)
• Listen to music, especially new music
• Sleep enough
• Enjoy light from sun, moon and candle

What habits keep you going this time of year?

I’m reading Steven Pressfield’s The War of Art. Well, that’s just one book in my endless stack, but it brings me back to one question: What am I afraid of? Oh, lots of excuses crowd in and overwhelm me.

When it comes to creating, I am my own worst enemy. I can practice piano and improve, or wallow in dissatisfaction at the sound of my own playing and steer clear of the piano for weeks. As much as I hate to admit it, I went through several months of this toward the end of last year. Playing piano began to depress me and so I’d avoid it. Another major area of struggle is writing. I can work on writing poetry, songs, essays, and blog posts or I can convince myself I’m not gifted to write and who would want to read or listen to my words anyway. I worry my written voice or style is boring and that the topics I’m interested in will interest no one else. That I’m unable to produce anything worthwhile. That, basically, I’m a failure as a person.

This is probably the foundational fear: that I have nothing of worth to offer anyone. Then the downward spiral is complete and I’m caught in my own trap of negativity, procrastination and fear. So who wins? No one, unless you believe “the devil made me do it”. I stop creating and releasing and I wither inside. My usefulness as a person diminishes, both in my own estimation and, in practicality, toward the world in general.

Of course I know my way out of this is to just do it. Practice, write, share. Over and over. Have the worst piano practice sessions ever, but keep practicing. Write garbage for days, but don’t quit. And release some of the imperfect into the world, because it’s part of the imperfect me. The more I do it, the more motivated I am to continue, to progress, to be a creator living with, yet uncontrolled by, fear.

I’d love to hear what both scares and motivates you!