We face many obstacles when we set lofty goals for ourselves. The journey takes us into storms, rough seas, and we confront the demon of self-doubt. The unrestrained monster sends messages advocating we abort our cherished mission. Stepping into the wilderness demands courage and a willingness to engage the unknown, making the enormity of the task seem that succeeding is impossible.

Forward progress requires unwavering trust, and we must master the ability to place one foot in front of the other. We advance by excruciating increments, meeting each formidable obstacle as they arise to challenge our resolve. We surmount the first problem then move to the next. The succession of dilemmas continues in a steady stream.

Perceived hazards must be weighed against genuine risk and balanced against the perils of inaction. Instinctively we know to remain in safe harbor, bobbing with the tides, is the tactic of the fearful. Facing fear is the test, the price of admission. If our desire is powerful enough, no danger can keep us from following the path and attaining our goal.

What perceived dangers are keeping you ashore?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Sunday mornings promise hope. Some view Sundays as just another day. They wake to an alarm, grind out work, catch up, send emails, and prepare to hit Monday madness full speed ahead. Others take a different tactic, sleeping late, making pancakes with family, doing laundry, chatting with friends, sharing the one real homemade dinner of the week, and bemoaning the inevitable prospect of a new week.

For me, Sunday is the day everything changes. Waking before dawn there is no reason to hurry. Instead of checking my phone, I check in with my body. How do I feel? And I wait for the answer. In the silence, I discover surprising revelations. Each movement is deliberate as I rise, make my coffee, and head outside to a brand new world. The quiet grants me space to read, and I sip from my cup, enjoying a serene transition to life.

In my garden, tight flower buds slowly unfurl their petals and turn exuberant faces toward the rising sun. Fresh flowers are an indulgence. They all find a place in my heart. Crocus, tulips, peonies, lilacs, forsythia, and Lily of the Valley are seasonal favorites of Spring. They lift my spirits and offer reminders of special moments. The intense fragrance of a rose can invoke sweet memories of a gentle smile, and I respond in kind.

Today renews possibilities, fills my soul with fuel for action, and restores hope.

What is your perfect Sunday?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

The blank page intimidates some writers. They claim they feel the pressure of needing to produce perfection in the first draft. Others insist they are waiting for inspiration from their divine muse. The underlying issue might be less ephemeral, and easier to solve.

Salespeople know the axiom that says a confused mind will not buy. Faced with multiple choices, a customer’s knee jerk reaction is “no.” Extensive options, confusion, and uncertainty are ingredients in the recipe called Disaster. Seeking to avoid the risk of making a mistake, we walk away. The lesson for anyone in sales is to present minimal selections, straightforward explanations, and foregone conclusions. When the decision is obvious, humans act. We want clarity and simple answers.

Why wouldn’t the same principle apply to authors? A writer’s imagination teams with an immense selection of stories they want to tell. Confronted with unlimited possibilities, we can’t decide. Inaction and lack of productivity is the logical result of an author without a solid strategy. Before I open my document, I devise a plan, zeroing in on my writing goals. My marching orders are precise, limited in scope, and assume a definite end. By limiting options, the universe opens. I get excited and look forward to discovering what I can create from bits and bobs and small ideas. The results always amaze me, and they fuel my desire to continue writing.

What will you create today?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Today the calendar announces the start of a new month, and a chance to begin again. There is no one looking over my shoulder, checking to make sure I finish my assignments and complete my goals. My successes and shortcomings rest on my shoulders. I am the boss, the worker bee, the strategic analyst, the creative director, the janitor, and the person who gets the morning coffee for the group.

I scheduled the team’s monthly review meeting, where we congratulated ourselves for hard-won victories, identify places where we fell short and devise future strategies. We examine the numbers, agree on plan modifications, and narrow the month’s focus. There will be a pep talk followed by high fives. We adjourn the meeting. I stack the various hats in the corner and get to work.

What goals have you set for yourself?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

I can feel it coming, a monumental shift floats in the night air. The season of suffering, fragmented concentration, reduced productivity, and the resulting irritability, fatigue, and sheer exhaustion are waning. Deep sleep and meditation impart their restorative powers. Rain washes away the grime, promising brighter days. Our hearts knew the situation was temporary, and the best strategy is to ride the rollercoaster — to go with the flow.

At first, the sound is faint, feeling more like a dream than anything tangible. I tumble from my bed, shower, and put on pretty clothes that make me feel human. The beat is slow, but it holds hope and unanswered possibilities. My morning coffee helps me open my eyes, and I focus on the tasks I need to complete. The pulsation strengthens, and the intensity grows.

I access my document, reread yesterday’s smattering of words, and hold my breath. I lean into what terrifies me. My fingers gravitate to the home keys, and they bang sentences into existence. Faltering steps gradually find solid footing, and emotions amp up to levels I had almost forgotten. I have climbed from the pits. The sun shines, the music swells, drums kick out an unrelenting cadence, and the story flows effortlessly onto the page. My wayward friend Mr. Mojo has returned.

“We are back in the Groove, Kid.”

How do survive the low points in your writing?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Humans like to push the envelope, fight in the arena, blaze new trails, and test the limits of known possibilities. Every individual has a unique set of tolerable risks and different definitions of danger. Not all mountaineers want to climb Mount Everest, some prefer to base jump from a two-thousand-foot cliff. If we are lucky, we attain a precise balance of risk versus reward. In accessing our tolerance, we consider the special skills we possess, the advantages we have honed with practice, and we define our compelling reason.

There are a thousand reasons to quit, to snuggle into a safe place, and hide. But quitting is easy and doesn’t fulfill the soul. To succeed, you must dig deep, identify your main purpose, your motivation to groom your mental, and fortify your physical strength. Resolve pushes you to discover the unknown. When others would stop, determination keeps you going.

What pushes you to create your story?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

I am not living in a beautiful woodsy cabin where I can commune with nature. Gentle sea breezes do not waft through my gloriously appointed palm hut with beach access. There are no chef-prepared gourmet meals delivered at predictable hours with linen napkins. Celebratory cocktails served at the end of a productive studio day have not materialized.

My acceptance arrived without a lengthy application process, project proposals, resumes or references required. The cosmos shook up the usual environment and provided the world with time to reflect, research, and produce creative works. My writing desk has morphed, transformed into command central for my everyday activities.

My laptop is the window that reveals museum treasures during online tours. I congregate with other writers in virtual rooms for writing sprints, critiques, and camaraderie. E-courses help me study my craft, learn novel approaches and techniques, and plant seeds for fresh stories. Cook-along videos encourage me to attempt to prepare meals I would never have considered during normal circumstances. Who needs a chef? My bartender is adept with the plastic screw top on the wine box, and a red solo cup is a worthy substitute for crystal stemware.

The residency is having its desired effect. Creativity is brewing, ideas bubble below the surface, and my fingers are eager to type.

How is your residency going?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Sometimes the muse abandons us in our quest to create.  We say we are going through a desert, devoid of ideas, lacking inspiration, bereft of dreams. There is life if you are observant. To avoid the heat animals burrowing underground where the earth is cooler. They alter their lifestyle by adopting nocturnal habits. Plants develop spines for protection, deep roots to connect to life-sustaining moisture in the soil, and tough skin to prevent water evaporation.

We must do the same to access the gems we seek. The desert requires us to reach into our core for the gold we pursue. We adjust our procedures, struggling to attain the seeds that spark creation. The amazing thing is the work pays big dividends providing us with things we never imagined. We uncover rich beauty.

Where do you find unexpected beauty?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

I am no stranger to stress, anxiety, or bouts of depression. The first warning sign for me is insomnia. Bedtime started a futile exercise of clock watching and counting dark minutes where every tick-tock mocks my inability to fall asleep. The morning dawns with blood-shot eyes and exhaustion. Sleepless nights follow fatigue filled days whose end elicit dread. Wakeful darkness becomes torture.

Studies say meditation helps manage these feelings, and from experience, it works. But when I return to a more regular practice, I yawn. The sandman sits on my eyelids, and I often snooze. My meditation process is not making me sleep, but it is allowing me to relax to where I can enter the land of nod.

Meditating and falling asleep have similarities. Remembering how to self-calm, let go, notice, and respect what your body is telling you is a wonderful release. There are additional benefits to both plenty of sleep and finding your Third Eye. A centered and rested mind releases creative ideas and makes unique and unexpected connections. Stories unfold, and the subconscious interpretations bubble to the surface.

Sundays present the perfect opportunity to pour a cup of tea, find a comfy spot, and embrace your inner Om. And if anyone asks, you can always call it a nap.

How do you relax?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

I love sitting in my writing spot, stringing words together. A laptop offers astounding flexibility. In better times it allowed me to recreate my office at coffee shops. Today I commandeer a corner in my hotel lobby, or the front seat of my car, calling them my alternate working space. Still, I find myself with odd minutes of downtime, when firing up the laptop is unwieldy or inappropriate. It is then that I turn the phone to capture notes, recording stray thoughts, and reminders of brilliant insights I do not want to forget.

The miracle is the ability to eke productivity from lost moments and harness the power of an otherwise wasted ten or fifteen minutes to write. Without a laptop, I no longer need to carry notebooks or worry about pens with no ink. I use my phone to my advantage. It is always by my side.

My laptop and my phone are my lifelines. Technology connects me and almost makes me feel like I am not alone. I join groups, classes, and lectures that keep my mind engaged and think of something other than the confinement. I collaborate on video conference calls and work in tandem with distant partners. Friends and family members smiling faces fill my screen. They dance and share their dinner hours. I long for their hugs, and the yearning fuels a fresh story.

How does technology improve your life?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer