The Mindful Writer & WWIV

Ever tried to herd cats? That question usually produces wry smiles and laughter.  It’s tough when you discover a group you cherish is less like-minded than you believed. 

And so it is with writers. We are all groping blindly for the path that will lead us where we want to go. Sometimes the path is 100% clear but more often, it’s just plain murky. Each time this happens in my world I reach for one of the myriad of writing books that I own. This time it was “The Mindful Writer– Noble Truths of the Writing Life” by Dinty W. Moore (2012). I reviewed his restatement of the 4 noble truths of Buddhism as they apply to the writing life and rapidly concluded that this was exactly what I needed to get back on my path.

1.     The writing life is difficult, full of disappointment and dissatisfaction.

Right – it’s damn hard work. I write and write and write – leave it for a day or two – then return only to discover that the first two paragraphs were necessary to get me started but are totally irrelevant to the story itself.

2.     Much of the dissatisfaction comes from the ego, from our insistence on controlling both the process of writing and how the world reacts to it.

Control? Who in their write-mind tries to control both the process of writing and how other people react to it? Every writer I know!

3.      There is a way to lessen the disappointment and dissatisfaction and to live a more fruitful writing life.

Great! So glad to hear this – since at the moment the disappointment and dissatisfaction are prominent in my world.

4.     The way to accomplish this is to make both the practice of writing and the work itself less about ourselves. To thrive, we must be mindful of our motives and our attachment to desired outcomes.

Wonderful! There’s a solution and I can hardly wait to apply it. Desired outcomes? I don’t have any! Who wants fame, fortune and recognition? I just want to write, damn it!

            And that’s exactly what I did. I went out onto my new back deck, put my feet up on the table, spread my books out and picked up my pen. I would simply breathe in and out and the words would flow.

That was when the first green bomb landed on my deck. Startled I glanced up at the tree that shades the deck and was pelted by pieces of another green bomb fired by a black squirrel. Next the branch wobbled and four more green bombs were lobbed onto the deck. Now he’s chattering with glee. I retreat into my office and listen to the next barrage land on my roof and deck as they smash into smithereens. 

This first foray lasted about 15 minutes. Once the bombing stopped I grabbed my broom and went to clear the rubble. Within four minutes he was back, this time with two other combatants. I retreated once again. It took two days before I realized they were intentionally attacking. I brought all the cushions inside and warned Bella, my dog, and Fudo and Mikka, my cats to be on guard.

            Since then we have been involved in a full-scale war. The little demons spend all their time reconnoitering and deciding how they are going to kill me. It’s no longer safe to come in and out of the house using that entrance. Fully 400 to 500 of these missiles have been detonated from that BLACK WALNUT TREE. 

It’s World War IV. I resorted last week to picking the damn things up and throwing them right back at the squirrels. I hit a couple of tails but they are quick devils. I always thought we were on good terms. That our goals and objectives were compatible. That our paths were complimentary. How wrong I was!

But the good news is after 3 weeks of this they are running out of ammo. And by God I’ve got them now as I have gotten agreement from my neighbour that the tree can come down as long as I pay for its removal.  

Now where was I before I lost my mind?