This is the only way to accept praise and criticism, especially of your work – with a light hand. Don’t swallow the opinions down: the good ones are too saccharine, the bad ones too bitter to digest. Hold them in your hand lightly.
Tag Archives | writing
I hoarded, as a child; I made collections. Stamps, candles, letters, memories.
As an adult I hoard memories, especially now I am chronically ill. When you are in the outside world, who knows when you can repeat the experience?
The truth is those words of rejection don’t get to define us. We know not what the future holds, and it is a mistake to project the ‘now’ onto the ‘not yet’.
I believe that I have a muse, and that she lives in the shower.
I fear that what I have just written may put me firmly in the category of those who are utterly insane, or those who are arrogant enough to believe the world should be hanging on their every word. Or – more simply – ‘writer’, which is a combination of the two.
Today I have something special – an exclusive interview with Tara Owens. She’s one of my dearest friends in the whole world, and she is the author of Embracing the Body: Finding God in our Flesh and Bone. It is an exquisite, wise, vulnerable book about the theology and spirituality of the body, not just viewing our bodies as the world does (obsession) or as the church often does (denial) but reclaiming a Christian view of our bodies, and how awareness of our body can reconnect us with God. I’m delighted to share this chat we had about her spiritual journey, writing tips, and body image:
living in such close proximity to death had marked me. I woke up at night, sensing its heavy breathing on the back of my neck. I saw it everywhere I went: its inevitability, its steady, onward march. It will eventually take everyone I love. It will eventually take me. I paced the house. I felt anxious and afraid.
Life is hard, and life is good. Writing a book is hard, and writing a book is also very, very good. Though this is a short, read-it-in-half-an-hour book, it gives me confidence for the longer projects. I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat. (But perhaps when my eyes are not so bloodshot…)
I cried because I love blogging, and it’s such a lifeline – and I cried because at the same time a part of my soul leapt and said, ‘yes, I need rest’