The screenshot is of a conversation between my client and the customer service person on his team. I choked up when my client sent this to me.
I started working with my clients (a husband and wife duo who run an art school) 3 weeks ago. I take care of their newsletter and email sequences to their audience of 54k people.
I love my clients and have lots of creative freedom to write what feels right to me. And because I run my own biz, I have lots of autonomy with how, when, and where I do my work.
So I’m able to only write when I’m in the mood to write. I mean, I do write every day and certainly have the discipline to sit my ass down and write but it’s helpful that I don’t have to “get creative at 9 am sharp!”
I usually write after long walks in the afternoon, after talking to the plants in my garden in the morning, after practising Salsa at night, from outdoor cafés with the evening sun turning everything golden. So while there’s no set ‘writing time’, I almost never write when I’m not in the mood.
My writing process is quite intuitive. When I sit down to write, I open myself energetically to whatever wants to come through. And the right words come. The right stories just bubble up.
I’m an emotional writer. I’m the most emotional person I know and what I love more than anything is to add emotional resonance to a piece of writing. As I write, I feel the emotions deeply. It’s not uncommon for me to tear up as the words flow.
So that’s what I bring to the table—an open heart, a nuanced emotional vocabulary, and willingness to receive the messages that want to come through and be the scribe of the Universal Mind.
Every time I write something and think, “Oh wow, I needed to read that today!!”, there’s no doubt in my head who the real author is. It’s co-creation at its best, as Abraham Hicks would say.
It’s beyond heartening to see the messages land this way with the readers. But why wouldn’t they, when the universe/God/Source is essentially communicating to them exactly what they most need to hear? I’m merely the vessel, the scribe, the human translator.
I’m not discounting what I do—I think my role is essential—but it’s so clear to me that I’m but a part of the equation. The truth is way more mysterious and magnificent than I could possibly comprehend.
It’s funny how I used to think that I needed to work hard to become a writer whose writing touched others. Turns out I just needed to get out of the way and collaborate with the universe. We make a great team! I become all that I wanted to be by seeing myself as not the ‘writer’ but the vessel, the scribe, the channel.
Also, it’s easier than I thought. This is what aligned work feels like. How funny that sometimes the hardest thing to do is get out of our own way and take the path of least resistance.
As I was writing this, I felt called to pick up Khalil Gibran’s The Prophet. These lines jumped out at me:
“When you work you are a flute through whose heart the whispering of the hours turns to music.
Which of you would be a reed, dumb and silent, when all else sings together in unison?
Always you have been told that work is a curse and labour a misfortune.
But I say to you that when you work you fulfil a part of earth’s furthest dream, assigned to you when that dream was born,
And in keeping yourself with labour you are in truth loving life,
And to love life through labour is to be intimate with life’s inmost secret.
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Work is love made visible.”
I’m crying as I write this. 