Writing... at 6am!!!?

I'm following Julia Cameron's 12 week programme to find myself as a writer! So now, in the quest to unblock myself and find all the creativity which is carefully hidden underneath everything else (I'm told it's there, I just have to believe) I'm setting the alarm clock for a seriously ungodly hour when even Ed is still asleep, and I'm writing. I'm writing anything which comes into my head - they're called the morning pages, and all I have to do is write until three of the pages in my (un-necessarily large) notebook are filled. I'm trying to do this every morning, come what may, and it's very tiring. But I'm going to bed earlier in preparation for it - which has to be a good thing - and so far I'm managing.

I'm also trying to inject more silence into my life.

Silence?

Well, I've realised that I'm very attached to words. All day long, I'm talking, reading, writing, listening to the radio and watching TV. However exhausted I am at the end of the day, I take a cup of tea to bed, and I read. And I wonder if all these words are interfering with me finding my own? They are filling a need in me which I would need to fill myself if they weren't there. Maybe I could write if I'd spent part of the day in silence and with silence? Noise is distracting me from myself, I think. And it's taken me a long time to realise that. I have considered a complete TV ban for six months - and I'm still considering it, although I'm finding the idea of managing without Coronation Street rather a challenge.

So with all three kids in school, and my teaching very sporadic indeed due to a childcare crisis, I've decided that this is the time to take action. Wish me luck?

Back Home

Back home now! Not sure where the beauty lies.... It's been hard to spot among the crowds buying back-to-school shoes, uniforms and PE kits. Still, we've a few days left to enjoy before the alarm clock rings on a new term. Quick..... sleep.....

Cycling with Dolphins

We're still up here in the Western Highlands - going home on Tuesday, more's the pity.

The weather has pretty much been fantastic, consequently we're going home tanned and somewhat fitter after a few weeks of walking and cycling. And today, as we were cycling along a beautiful coastal road in the soft sunshine, the sea slowly heaving in swathes of movement - the fins of two dolphins broke the surface as they swam alongside us. They were perfectly synchronised; the arcs they traced made beautiful shapes in the air, before they slid back again under water.

We were all utterly entranced - the kids shouting, "there they are!" after every silvery glimpse. I felt quite emotional at the unexpected beauty of the moment.

It'll be hard to match that back home in the city - I guess there's beauty there too; it's just harder to spot.

Writing

My writing course was amazing. It was a real retreat - five days staying with new and interesting people in Ted Hughes' old house in North Yorkshire. There was no internet, no TV, not even a radio. The tutors were brilliant, but scary: Tim Pears who has written seven novels to high acclaim, and Patience Abgabi, an incredibly talented and terrifyingly frank poet who gave unstinting and critical feedback on any work one dared to give her. But unstinting and critical was what (I told myself) I wanted - once I'd picked myself up from the floor! Every morning we had a workshop taught by both tutors, an hour and a half each. Sitting around the long wooden table (where surely Ted Hughes worked on his poems) we'd write and read out and try to develop good practice and discipline.

We took it in turns to cook, which was companionable and fun, with new people to be with. We drank wine in the evenings and talked in the unfettered way that you can with people whom you don't know very well.

I felt strange when I arrived and then very strange and disorientated when I left. I wrote lots of stuff -some good, some needing work and some needing the bin - but the point is that I wrote. I'm determined to continue to do so, every day if I can manage although that's proving difficult already.

What the course showed me was the extent of the gap between where I am now as a writer and where I'd need to be if I wanted to publish anything. I'm planning to use this year to work on closing that gap just a little.

And now we're back up in the Highlands of Scotland staying for a few weeks again in my mum's lovely house. The sun is shining and the kids are shouting- as usual. Will I get inspiration? I hope so. But we've been for a lovely bike-ride this morning - I'm achy and feel as if I've woken up muscles which haven't been used in the daily grind. So that's good. I need more of that. Oh - and I've just started Hilary Mantel's sequel to 'Wolf Hall', 'Bring up the Bodies'. And I'm already heavily immersed in the Tudor world, which can prove problematic at breakfast time! I'm definitely more interested in Thomas Cromwell than is good for me.

Hello....again!!

Yes - I'm still here.

I've been rubbish at keeping up with my blog - I blame the job. There's just too much to do.

But changes are afoot. I'm cutting back from September. I'm doing supply teaching, exam marking and tuition - trying to work more flexibly and from home. I'm starting my psychotherapy training next September, and in the meantime I'm going to try to write more seriously.

To that end, once the summer holidays start I'm off to do a residential writing course for a week. No kids, no distractions, no washing, shopping, cooking.... or teaching. Frankly I'm terrified. I'm tired and worn out after a long, hard year and inspiration feels a long way distant. How embarrassing will it be when I'm the only one in the group who discovers they actually CAN'T write after all. I have some plans, some ideas and ambitions -but heaven knows if I can achieve them.

And - come September, Hattie is starting school! For those who have been reading my blog since the start (and I don't suppose there are many readers left since my shocking blog-neglect) you will know what an important milestone this is for the whole family. When Hattie was born I had three weeks to live and my prognois was very uncertain. After a year of horrendous cancer treatment, I went into remission. And I knew that if I managed to stay alive to see Hattie turn four and start school, I would be a good way down the road to survival.

Things aren't bad, then. We're off to Scotland after my writing course. I need to update my blog with all the books I've recently read ..... and I'm planning to read a whole lot more over the summer. And Hilary Mantel's sequel to Wolf Hall is top of the list. Watch this space.

Here and Now, and Next Year

My poor blog has been so neglected.

Work is too crazy to give me enough time to do anything extra. That said, we have just come home from our lovely time in Scotland - and it was really lovely just to be far away, physically and psychologically, from all the various stresses and strains of the everyday.

There's a cafe and a bookshop up in Ullapool, in the Highlands of Scotland - and it's not exaggerating things to say that when I set foot in there, things seem much better. Things can't be too wrong in my world if I'm in The Ceilidlh Place, drinking coffee and starting a book. I've been there so much - from before I met Roger, during my first pregnancy, with small toddlers and while I was going through my cancer treatment, and out the other side - with work concerns filling my mind. It feels like a true refuge. You can stay there - they have lovely rooms. And if I ever go missing, that's where you'll find me.

And - I've booked myself a place on a week-long writing course, for the first week on the summer holidays. Rog (how lucky I am) has agreed to look after the kids while I'm away. This coming year is going to be a special one for me - I'm going to give myself some time to write. I'm postponing my psychotherapy training until next year, taking some time for myself and cutting back on the work. I think the stress I've felt this year hasn't been good for me. I worry about my health and want to take some more care of myself. And I want to focus on the kids too - we've all felt a bit stretched this year. Hattie is starting school in September and I want to be there for her as much as is possible. We'll be skint, but what the hell. After the struggle of surviving cancer, and living with some of the long-term legacies of that, I figure I can take time if I want. And I want.

Hurry Up, Easter....

Being a parent can be such a struggle sometimes! Ed is really pushing the boundaries, really being cheeky. He answers back - and I can't stand the rudeness. I get cross, and ..... yes, I shout. I know I shouldn't but even he admitted that he would try the patience of a saint his afternoon, when I'd lost my temper and he was sorry and I was sorry for shouting. There has to be an easier way. He has such fabulous parts to his personality - and those are the sides I want to nurture.

It doesn't help that I'm finding my work stressful at the moment - and am feeling pulled in too many directions. The patience, tolerance and energy levels are all pretty low by 6pm.

We're off to Scotland in a couple of weeks for Easter. I can't wait. I really feel that we can all do with some sea air, some exercise and some rest. And some reading - I'm not doing enough reading, and I'm doing too much marking and all that stuff.

I'm having a bit of a re-think about what I do next year. Whatever else - I know that life is too short to be spending any part of it as out of sorts and exhausted as I am now. I think I've earned a bit of peace - at least some of the time.