Simply Begin Again

how to begin again in writing & life

Hello, new subscribers! & hello to everyone whose been reading for awhile, too! I value each and every comment or email reply I receive as I keep learning more of what you’d like to see in this space. I’d love to hear from you, so don’t hesitate to reach out anytime. Today, I’ve got a mindfulness & writing prompt for you. I hope you enjoy it and that it brings you what you need right now. 💛

still obsessed with the sky

One of my favorite regular guided meditations is Joseph Goldstein’s “Simply Begin Again.” In it, he says:

“The three most important words in mindfulness meditation are ‘simply begin again.’ You give the mind a simple object of meditation, like the breath, and then we find before too long, our mind gets lost in thoughts or fantasies or daydreams. This is not an unusual phenomenon. We hop on these trains of association, and often we don’t know that we’ve hopped on the train—we have no idea where the train is going—and then sometime later, it may be a minute or two, it may be five minutes, it may be ten minutes, we wake up to the fact that we’re thinking— it’s as if we hop off the train. In that moment of becoming aware that we’re lost, we can actually delight in that moment of awareness, of remembering, rather than judge ourselves for having been lost. And in that moment, we recollect the breath and simply begin again.”

That’s Goldstein’s intro to the brief 10 minute meditation linked below in the prompt. If you’re someone who struggles with getting stuck in feelings of guilt or shame because you’ve let go of a habit or goal that you really care about (like me), I think you may find this very useful.

As I’ve written about before here, advice for writing is just about always advice for life. And, this is hands down, the most important mantra I’ve been leaning on for the past few months of my life through some big ups and downs. Since I’ve started meditating on these three words—Simply Begin Again— and repeating them in my head when I get off-track, I’ve been able to recognize my tendency to beat myself up for not doing the thing—or, for not being further along because I haven’t been doing the thing when I should have been (writing, meditating, exercising, grading, etc).

The other day, I knew I wanted to work on a draft that’s been bothering me, and even though I keep telling myself I don’t have time for my drafts right now because I’m trying to finish my semester of teaching, and make progress on the moving to dos, and keep up with life stuff, I thought back to this mantra and Nancy Reddy’s recent post about “How to Keep Your Writing at the Top of Your To Do List,” and said to myself, I’m just going to begin today. That’s it. So, I took my writing drafts folder out of my bag and put it where I would have to move it before I sat down to work on teaching stuff.

my writing folder has seen better days (e.g. packing tape holding the binding together because I can’t find another one like it…)

The idea was that I would take ten minutes to look at one draft before I dove into prep and grading. And still, when I came back to my desk after lunch, I thought to myself, How do I ‘simply’ begin again? Don’t I need to have my usual breakdown about how long it’s been since I’ve written and torture myself for awhile first? Plus, I ‘simply’ don’t have time! but I looked at the draft lying there and thought, Ok, fine. I read it again, then wrote down a few questions and thoughts about what I’m trying to do with it. Then, I set it aside, but I kept thinking about the draft later that day and jotting down notes into my phone while I waited for my kids in the pick-up line. No, I still haven’t finished this draft, but it was progress, given that I’ve been worlds away from “writing brain” for a long time.

The next day, I tried this same tactic, and I didn’t end up looking at the draft—I had to run to talk with a student about something—and it got shoved back under the pile of other things. The next day something came up, too. After the second missed day, I started to beat myself up, but then remembered Goldstein’s calm, clear voice reminding me to let go of the judgment—and, I felt proud for a second that I had tried to bring in writing time in some way. I tried to “delight” in that moment of awareness, as Goldstein encourages us to do. Confession: I did not feel delight, but I did feel a kind of pride that I was working to hold onto the thread.

Interruptions are going to happen all the time. From the world, other people, your own mind. That’s life. We know this, but we don’t always remember that it’s normal and it’s ok. I’m trying to laugh at myself more, to be gentle with myself when it does happen. I’m trying to simply begin again…

Prompt

• What is one thing you’d like to do regularly that you’ve lost the thread with recently?

• How do you feel when you lose the thread? Do you feel guilty? Frustrated? Embarassed? All of these? What’s the narrative running through your head when this happens? Try to isolate a line or two of it. (I often repeat all or nothing lines like: “I’ll never get back to it” or “'I’ll never have enough time.”) Take a minute to reflect and write about how you usually respond to losing the thread.

• Remember what Joseph Goldstein says, “This is not an unusual phenomenon.” It happens to everyone all the dang time! Pause to acknowledge and accept how you feel. You are not the only one. In fact, this connects you to every other living being on the planet.

• Try to “delight in” or simply be proud of “remembering, rather than judg[ing] yourself.”

• Brainstorm: how can you do this thing today? (even if only for a few minutes while someone is yelling for a snack)

• Simply begin again, knowing this is the practice. This is what being human is. Stopping, then beginning again.

Be Where You Are is about how to use writing and mindfulness to be where you are. You’re always welcome to reply to this email, comment below, or find me on instagram (@mohnslate) or elsewhere. If you enjoyed this, I’d love it if you would consider subscribing, share this post, or send it to a friend. 💛