The Well
I went for a run in the cold last night, at dusk. It was amazing – houses framed by Christmas lights, a silent herd of deer, twilight sky with lavender clouds. And I came home with about ten things I wanted to write about. I don’t run to be thin. I run because every time I do, I come home with plenty to write about.
Writing is a lot like turning on faucet, or opening an aqueduct. Before you open it, you feel a pressure of water building in an unseen well that is always there. And for some reason, running is like priming the pump. It always makes the waters flow.
I recently learned there are studies that show that very rhythmic actions in the body help unlock creativity. Before I knew that, I just knew that writing and running in tandem really helped me. I could plot out scenes, get to know characters, reflect on themes. Yoga is another great one that I love and can do easily with little people sleeping. I think hiking and skiing do it too, but the pavement is always there, outside my door, whereas the mountains require a weekend road trip for us in Coastal New Hampshire.
I found both things – running and writing – after having three kids three and under. That, and studying and teaching for my PhD in philosophy. I stayed home with the kids when I had two years left to finish because my husband had a great job, but he had to travel a lot. I could always write at home. So I did. I wrote a novel, started a food blog, had another baby, started another novel. And I discovered that the process of these things – running, writing, mothering – changes us in amazing ways, that the work itself shapes us into something akin to who we were born to be.
When I sat down to write fiction, I discovered this well inside. I think all creative people know what it is like to discover The Well. Endless visions for designing your home, or curating outfits, or making delicious food, or drafting a humor essay about potty training in your head while doing the dishes.
I am amazed at how the Internet has allow people to share their wells. There is no faster way to feel the existence of our own creativity then to be inspired, to have it ignited by someone else.
I think that there is a time to shut off everyone else, too. To let The Well refill. To be quite and still and reflect. To hear our own original voice amidst the noise of our world. To get in touch with our spirit, the one that mirrors the original Creator.
Thomas Aquinas said the best life is one that balances the active and the contemplative. So as we head into the new year, I hope to use this as my model for creativity. Running and writing, priming and pumping, viewing and creating, giving and receiving. All are inspiring, and all help to fill and empty The Well, because for some reason, like our breath, like a river, the waters of creativity always want to flow.
