3 of #120daysadhana: How to write a book
I am here. Here I am. Today is a new day! It really did feel like a new day, like a day of its own. No apparent reason why, but it feels good to feel a sense of separation between the days and from the week.
Tonight, I am working on more notecards from February 2017. Here’s an excerpt:
Sunday, February 5, 2017
It is 6 a.m. and I am up doing my morning pages. Last night was so interesting the way the evening ended.
In reverse, we got to the hacienda late, probably about midnight or so. It is very rustic. The toilet tank is detached and hanging on the wall above the toilet. It is super weird and kind of curious / hilarious. We forgot to buy water before coming here. Getting to our destination was an adventure. I drove our red Dodge SUV up the hill. It was so dark and winding. Difficult to see where we were going, but also really engaging seeing all of the houses and how unique they looked (what we could see of them). We pulled over a few times to let anxious cars pass us.
We had to park at the foot just near the road. Squishing our way up the hill, the path was muddy and extremely dark. We carried all of our things, guessing our way through the dark. My friend being guided up and up and forward, and I with the flashlight illuminating some sense of / some view of where we were moving through time and space. We were almost there. We both had to pee. I hoped we were close and I was following my friend without question or concern. The sky opened up to reveal the beautiful starry night hanging above the frame of the trees and hills. It felt right to be where I was.
This morning, I am realizing that I was maybe being a little judgy or overly analytical about everything yesterday, everyone… I love them all. Love them and that’s all that matters.
Dinner was a lively and lovely affair. I talked with one friend a lot and it was nice to catch up one-on-one. I think one of the women has changed a bit. I see she is more resolute within, facing the truths, and I see that she is truly ready to move on, on her own if that is what shall be what is. There is a different beauty coming through her and that is the surrender and the understanding that she is love and truly feeling that is the best asset she has to offer. She feels a bit sad in the space of truth, but supported and understanding or at peace with where she is. I see the little girl being held by the goddess in the light of unification and love.
We were having so much fun. We left dinner at 11pm to go to our car and head to the mountains. The parking garage was gated shut. We were shocked and irritated, but my friend was determined to get our car. I acted in accordance — asking the restaurant nearby if they could help at all. They could not. Next, dialing people in the condos above, hoping someone would answer and help us out. One person answered, but she was in Big Sur and told us she was sorry, but she could not help.
My friend wanted to try and shimmy through the space between the ground and the black metal gate. I worried about getting in trouble for “trespassing.” I couldn’t believe what was happening and I did not want to stay anywhere, but our Airbnb and I wanted to make it to yoga class in the morning. All of our belongings were in the car. We each stood at our posts wracking the brain and the universe about how we could get the car and get on the road.
I finally agreed to let her try the gate thing and we began sorting out the “what if” logistics. We looked at the gate again and I could see there was no way either of us could squeeze through. Our heads would not fit. I said that out loud, “Your head won’t fit and I know I couldn’t fit through there.” I sure fucking wished she was right, but I was also still a little worried about getting in trouble. It’s a big city and my gut was saying the cops wouldn’t be very sympathetic. We walked and watched and waited. Every time a car drove into the alley, we hoped they would turn into the garage, so the gate would lift and our problem would be solved.
Suddenly, I felt and saw lights — someone was leaving the garage. I scuttled down the incline toward the gate and waved. The gate opened and my heart laughed and sighed as I rushed through, making the car wait to exit until my friend and I were safely through. Holy-effing-s — YES!!! I never gave up, but I didn’t know how or when we were going to get to the car. We laughed and hugged hard.
There is something interesting and special about this experience. I liked reading it and I didn’t remember writing about that evening in this manner. It’s not written well, but my memory filled the gaps as I read this passage in my notebook. I think if I spent some time with it, I could rewrite it to be more descriptive and coherent in a way that would stir up more tension and emotion for a reader.
This is a messy, good process. Sometimes it feels daunting and uncertain, but these thoughts and feelings are simply recognition of the challenging work I am doing. Taking notice of thoughts and feelings as ways I’m recognizing myself for my efforts makes more sense than interpreting them as potential for failure. I have to believe that all parts of me have my own best interest at heart.
Completely,
Laura