What Beauty Might We Yet Create?
A 5 minute writing practice and prompt.
Something a little different today. A five minute writing practice for you.
Here is a piece of my own writing, followed by a prompt, where I accompany you in your writing.
Grab a pen, paper and comfy spot. And press play!
July has come, with its attendant blooms and night songs. Dawn comes early too, and the chatter of the birds rises me. It is not the only the birds keeping me awake though. It is all the questions which are spooling in these times of uncertainty and change. Yet, it is the birds which give me courage. The butterflies too. And between every curl of foxglove, the darting swoop of swallow and wing. Yes, it is beauty which gives me courage, and nature’s insistence on becoming all it can be.
Recently I was editing a piece with reference to swallows. Moments later I walked upstairs, and there was a swallow sitting on a picture frame, shocked and surprised, both of us —an awe of encounter, and then, on my part, a flurry to open all the windows to encourage flight back to the skies again. This tiny remarkable being who has the will, power, stamina, determination to cross continents, cross deserts and mountains, seas; straddling its place in the world. Between Ireland and South Africa, a home in two parts, and an entire mystery of migration in between.
I wonder sometimes what would happen if we all stopped for a moment and pondered the true marvel of even a single blade of grass, or just one flap of wing; how the world might be different; how we too might insist on crossing continents, opening to our full bloom, rising in the early morning to let our song out. What would we sing? What beauty might we yet create?
…
The Prompt:
What beauty might I yet create…
Want to sustain your own writing process?
This summer I have a several ways to support to, online or in-person
Sanctuary: Next Session July 20th
Sanctuary
Next session: Sunday July 20th. This is a monthly guided writing gathering online. One hour of supportive journaling practice, in community . Find out more and book tickets here.
Come to West Cork this summer.
Next sessions 6th July, 14th July or Aug 3rd
Across the summer I have a series of beautiful writing workshops planned, in Schull and in Leap. From nature writing to learning the art of personal narrative writing it’s writing + nature + west cork. What’s not to love. Book your tickets today.
There are many people reading this who know they have a book or writing project brewing but are not sure where to begin, how to structure it, or lack the courage and confidence to bring a draft to the next level. My writing mentoring packages are here to support. From private one-to-one workshops, a three month intensive, or a year long engagement, I hope your writing and story has a chance to grow.
Hello. I'm Clare
I'm a writer, educator and facilitator, living in beautiful West Cork, Ireland. I love to share resources and learning to help harness the regenerative power of words, place and story. I hope my work offers nourishment for mind and soul. Thank you for being here. Clare x
Writing as Assemblage- and Overcoming Rejection
On writing as an act of assemblage, overcoming writing rejection and the transformative power of the creative process…
You can listen to this piece here…
There’s a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
- William Stafford
In personal narrative writing I’ve come to understand that the story is never singular. It is more layered and mosaic than anything chronological or linear. If anything, writing our story is an act of assemblage. It is about learning how the pieces may thread together to create something new which holds an adherence to truth (for it is only there that we get to the really transformative material). But there is also a call to beauty, asking us, ‘How can the story take shape in a new, artful way? What else might I uncover? From what, or whose, other perspectives might this be written from?
Holding out for duality, plurality, and beauty, opens possibilities not just within the narrative arcs, but in also in the writer themselves, a measurement of ‘success’ which is often outlooked when gauging the value of the writing process and outcome.
Publication is so often used as the final benchmark of writing success. Yes, it is one way to measure, but it is also such a small measure which the commercialised world thrives on. So many people try, are rejected, then stop writing. But we loose so much when external indicators of success are taken as the gatekeepers into one’s own power and potential; ones own story.
The publishing world is an industry driven by the judgment and validation of market forces and profit margins- it is an industry after all, with it’s own metrics. There are disruptors within the industry for sure (I love what Unbound Books are doing for instance, or The Pound Project), but as someone who has submitted many book proposals, and received many rejections, I am grateful that I understand the value of writing for my own growth, curiosity and creativity outside the limited bounds of these external markets.
When I was looking for a publisher for my own memoir which I wrote as a rite of passage/ ritual for my 40th birthday, the resounding response from agents and publishers was ‘we love this, but we don’t know how to sell it’. I came very close with several publishers, but in the end they choose not to take it on. I’ll be honest, the rejection was hard. With multiple doors opening, then closing, it felt raw, particularly with writing so personal. I had to remember: it is the book they are rejecting because they cannot see how it fits into their market, for now. It was not my writing or me they were rejecting. That shift in perspective has kept me going. I love writing too much to stop because of market forces. It is too much a part of how I navigate this world to give up.
I put the memoir down for now (I may come back to it again later), and I just returned to my journalling practice, and kept going. Page after page after page, and slowly something new has been emerging. I work with publication in mind, for sure, but I also work with my own creativity, imagination and love for the craft in mind. The process in and of itself is a gift I give to myself, one which continually helps to strengthen me, change me, show me a way forward, enrich.
Writing, particularly writing personal narrative, demands that we pay attention to the truth, lies, half-truths, and influences which mould and make us. In the assemblage we get to make the links and connections we otherwise would not have noticed, and ultimately I believe we can meet ourselves and therefore others, with more compassion and nuance. Whether one is published, or not, is not the final measure of success for me. Am I being true to myself? Am I listening? And I learning? Am I being of service? These are more interesting questions for me to help guide the process. Writing personal narrative- whether in essay crafting, in looser journaling form, in that sense, is a medium in which the transformation of self can be both moderated and witnessed. The words are the mould makers and the mould breakers. The words themselves are the alchemist’s thread, which I will happily follow. Where they will lead, I have no idea really, but it is a journey so worth taking.
Want to spark or sustain your own writing process?
This summer I have a several ways to support to, online or in-person
Sanctuary
On June 16th ‘Sanctuary’ commences. This is a monthly guided writing gathering online. One hour of supportive journaling practice, in community . Book tickets here.
West Cork Writing Workshops
Come to West Cork this summer!
In July, August and September, I have a series of beautiful writing workshops planned, in Schull and in Leap. From nature writing to learning the art of personal narrative writing it’s writing + nature + west cork. What’s not to love. Book your tickets today.
New Writing Mentoring
There are many people reading this who know they have a book or writing project brewing but are not sure where to begin, how to structure it, or lack the courage and confidence to bring a draft to the next level. My writing mentoring packages are here to support. From private one-to-one workshops, a three month intensive, or a year long engagement, I hope your writing and story has a chance to grow.
Summer Writing Workshops, West Cork. June-Sept
Join me for a series of writing workshops in Schull or Leap, West Cork, Summer 2024
Hello. I'm Clare
I'm a writer, educator and facilitator, living in beautiful West Cork, Ireland. I love to share resources and learning to help harness the regenerative power of words, place and story. I hope my work offers nourishment for mind and soul. Thank you for being here. Clare x
One of the scariest places
One of the scariest places in the world is…
What is one of the scariest places in the world?
It is a question I often ask students. I get a range of responses from sniggers to specific locations. ‘My grandmother’s knicker’s’, a student once said, to which the room took a collective gasp, then broke into hysterics.
‘How about the blank page… ‘ I offer.
They look at me as if I’m half mad.
But it’s true. I believe the blank page is one of the scariest places in the world. But it is also one of the most exhilarating, wondrous, powerful and transformative places there is. It’s a place not just where stories and books are born, but lives too. It’s a place of homecoming, connection. In times of loss, it can be a place of solace, and in times of joy, a place to celebrate.
The marriage of ink and page is a loyal companion to action and insight. The data confirms it: commit an intention or a goal to the page, write down specifics with a deadline, and it is more likely to happen. Writing is as much about making the world, as it is narrating it.
I’m sharing all this because I’ve been in a reflective space around the power of writing in my life. I started writing a regular journal when I was 11 and have kept one ever since. That’s a lot of blank pages. A lot of mundanity and lists too, yet when I look back on those pages I see the origins of my ideas and the evolution of how my creative life and career have mapped around them. I’ve seen that it is the habit of returning over and over to the page which has been the bedrock not just to my creative life, but to my career as well. The blank page + a pen + regular habit =…..
….
This summer I’ve lots of ways for you to engage with writing and supporting your own creative habits.
Sanctuary
On June 16th ‘Sanctuary’ commences. This is a monthly guided writing gathering online. One hour of supportive journaling practice, in community . Book tickets here.
West Cork Writing Workshops
Come to West Cork this summer! . In July, August and September, I have a series of beautiful writing workshops planned, in Schull and in Leap. From nature writing to learning the art of personal narrative writing it’s writing + nature + west cork. What’s not to love. Book your tickets today.
New Writing Mentoring
There are many people reading this who know they have a book or writing project brewing but are not sure where to begin, how to structure it, or lack the courage and confidence to bring a draft to the next level. My writing mentoring packages are here to support. From private one-to-one workshops, a three month intensive, or a year long engagement, I hope your writing and story has a chance to grow.
Summer Writing Workshops, West Cork. June-Sept
Join me for a series of writing workshops in Schull or Leap, West Cork, Summer 2024
Hello. I'm Clare
I'm a writer, educator and facilitator, living in beautiful West Cork, Ireland. I love to share resources and learning to help harness the regenerative power of words, place and story. I hope my work offers nourishment for mind and soul. Thank you for being here. Clare x
The sea, the sea and a West Cork Calling..
‘I want to live by the sea, not die by the sea’.Sometimes you’ve just got to dive in. In diving you can’t but go under.It’s not what I had been expecting, the radio silence on my writing and creative output but that is exactly what’s happened. You see, I have been literally swimming in a world of newness.For years I have been talking about a vision of mine- to live in the countryside while running a creative school or venture. I always saw the sea and a dog by my side, yet it always seemed in the future. But as the years move on, I realise the future is now, and the future is not coming any sooner unless I act upon my dreams.It is such a hard thing to give up something that is going well for the risk of something better, deeper, that may or may not work. The questions and doubts are hard too- How will I sustain myself? Will I be lonely? What about my yoga classes? What about my friends? What if that dream was all but an illusion and I will come out the other end with no other dream.But my body knew. Back in January while on a retreat in the UK, it became clear to me that, for the sake of my very being, it was time to move and the time was soon. I did not feel ready but I knew intrinsically I had to immediately take action. There was a particular part of Ireland calling too; a place I knew well as a teenager, and a place which over the last few years had re-planted itself deep in my heart. West Cork.
Once I made the decision it all happened pretty fast, which is often the case with these things.The day I returned from the UK I sent a message to one of the few people I knew living in West Cork, asking if she knew of any housesits available. She told me that they are hard to come by but then said that her mother was actually looking for a someone. So I immediately contacted her Mum, and yes, I could bring my dog, and yes I could borrow her car.It only took one email.Flow is a sign of the right course of action. This almost seemed too easy.But what about my room in Dublin? I sent an email to my friends wondering if anyone would be interested in subletting while I tested the Cork waters. Immediately I found someone.That only took one email too.So, ten weeks ago I found myself in Schull, West Cork, with a sea view and a dog by my side. This had been the dream for so long there were days I had to pinch myself. Has it really been that easy?Sometimes we can be led to believe that what we really are called to do is not the right thing unless it is hard and challenging. Yet this whole experience shows me that the ease is a signpost too. The ease is permission and a gateway. ‘Follow’, it says.
Ten weeks ago I took that housesit in Schull, really knowing only one person in town. Now, ten weeks on, I find myself walking down the street constantly stopping to chat. One day I went out for milk and came home seven hours later- there was the milk, and then the many many many conversations I had with people along the way. They stop to say hello to Milly and then the conversation opens. It is that kind of place. People have time and space and it is leading to very interesting connections. I am not sure where they are heading, but what’s important is the time and space.There have been many surprises. I had thought in moving that I would have so much more time for writing, painting and new creative projects, but instead, the silence. Over these weeks there has been a lot of quite and a lot of listening. I have walked and walked and walked the coastline. I have listened to Spring turn into Summer and watched the clouds shift in an instant. The landscape offers its daily gifts. It is a landscape which thrills and embraces and it is a landscape which is alive and supportive. Even when the weather is bad it offers its wild intimacies and the unexpected turns of its stormy ways. The sea is in constant dialogue, the birds and wildlife too. It’s never a dull moment out there. The aliveness of it all envelopes and invites me into a deeper conversation too with my own particular wildness and aliveness. I indeed feel I am living by the sea.When I first left Dublin I knew it was a trial run of a bigger and more substantial move. Ten weeks on, the housesit is over but I’m still here. I’ve a new friend has kindly offered to let me stay with her from the summer and am looking for a longer term house, trusting that the right one is out there for me. I gave notice on my house in Dublin and packed my bags last week. I’ll miss my yoga classes, and my friends, and all the good things that Dublin has to offer, but I knew I just had to leap.
And so in the time and space, another aspect of that long held dream has evolved, with relative ease too. I launched Thrive School, and with a bit of marketing effort and conversations with people interested, it is now up and running and fully subscribed. The flow was there, telling me to keep on moving and developing it. And so, with such gladness, I can say that my vision of the school is alive and evolving too. My plan is to launch Thrive School again in Dublin in the Autumn and a new class in Cork too. How exciting is that!Diving in, I’m sinking deeper into beingness, into an exploration of what it means to track a dream. I feel lucky, so very lucky, to have the sea and my little dog by my side, and how can I ever be lonely with the wildness outside and the bit of wildness I am rediscovering inside too.To be continued… 
Letters from Clare
Stay in touch…
@onewildlife
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