The pandemic feels as though it wishes to stay with us, zigzagging in and out of our lives, with us unable to outrun and catch it. As though we are alligators whose bodies lumbar too unsteadily to zigzag as speedily as a virus can.
ZOOM, then (and all other ZOOM types) may be a part of our lives for the next year. Which means we may need to adjust our thoughts on how 2021 will go. Perhaps it’s just me? Perhaps you already thought of this.
Since this is the case, or might be the case, or at least is the case for now (and I admit it might change tomorrow in the snap of a finger), a few days ago I decided that I was going to participate in a live writing class. Live as in on ZOOM with cameras on and with many, many other people. I wasn’t sure I wanted to do it.
Well, no. My instinctive thought was, “How cool and fun.” But then my conscious mind kicked in and my palms got a bit sweaty. Then the back of my mind raced around looking for an excuse to be busy even as I wrote the time down in my agenda.
My writer personalities all came crashing out, ready to pounce on one another. I’m pushing myself to do more, and not be so shy (or rather, a hoarder) with my writing. But to step out. I also just want to be around a few other writes and hear what they’re writing. Only way to do that is to get into a group. So here we go.
Still, the day of my shy mind screamed to suddenly need to make a run to Target or a take a walk. It shuffled around as I checked my email and found no reason not to show up. It claimed we could go next time. Next month. The recording of the class would be enough!
But I’ve learned through moving around the world and pushing myself out of my shy shell (and therapy) that the voice will always scream and throw a tantrum in the back of my head, it’s up to me to choose to listen or not. So, I quietly clicked the link and waited. Made sure my microphone was off and camera was on and held my hands down to keep them from shaking. After a few deep breathes and finding the atmosphere calm, I dared to click through the pages of ZOOM and found mostly women all sitting in a place in their house, probably hungry for interactive or a writing specific time or both. And from there it was easy. The class was calm with a few minutes of talking by the teacher, then a prompts through a poem and then a timer set to write. Twice through. That’s it. We kept the cameras on the entire time and wrote together. Just being in tiny boxes next to each other.
Right before we started writing the teacher remind us that we had the option to stay on and join a breakout room where we had the option to share our work. My mind raced, all the different voices screaming. But since I’m working on some mindset with Dr. Leaf’s Switch app, the loudest voice was, “You control your emotions, your emotions don’t control you.” Not if you don’t let them. So I breathed away the fear and focused on writing, giving myself the option to choose later whether I would stay for a breakout room or not. But, while the voice to not dare to go into the breakout room was the loudest, I made note of the initial zeal of excitement that zipped through me at the thought of sharing with other writers my writings. But again, I left it for an hour from that moment and focused on writing.
The atmosphere was serious enough to write in and loose enough for my brain to allow creativity to flow. Not that every line was something of heartbreaking genius. Some of the lines I wrote meant nothing and were just written down in order to forge ahead.
It’s funny how our brains work. When we’re together in a group (for the most part) we all want to follow the rules in order to get the most out of it. And since this is the case, and since everyone was on mute, I think your mind can really adjust and settle on the idea that it’s there to write and not multitask or do social media. It might have been the most productive 1 hour I’ve had in a while with writing. With writing whatever my brain wants to write, not just writing a blog post or a newsletter. Truly allowing my own creativity to flow and ebb and get out on ink.
I’m not sure if there was someone who just sat there and stared at people. It’s possible. I went to write and write I did. My pen never left the page. There were 8 pages of zoom attendees, which means there were 71 of us plus the teachers. And since we were all on mute I assume we all did our work. She didn’t bother to look up during the writing, only looking back at the camera when her timer went off because she was writing as well.
When it was time for the breakout rooms, the battle in my head became a bit fierce. Breathing, I just refused to hit End Call. I touched nothing as my heart raced and soon I was transported to another screen with only four other people. Once there, I knew I wouldn’t leave suddenly for no reason.
Just get one step past halfway and you won’t go back. So I did just that.
We shared our pieces, with no feedback given, (feedback wasn’t the point of the class), then said our good-byes, the feeling of having accomplished something heavy in the air.
I cannot wait for the next one.
The moral of the story is that every time I step out of my comfort zone, stepping out in that same direction gets easier. It takes a lot sometimes to not hit the button or to walk into something out of your league, but it’s rarely not worth it. Joining the class and the breakout room was a great experience. So much so that I’ve decided to incorporate it into the Creative Writing Community. If you want to join but hear that shy voice in the back of your head screaming no, I encourage you to do it anyway. We won’t give feedback, we will smile and give support. That’s all.
Because if we’re going to be stuck at home, we have to figure out how to encourage each other in our writings. And one way just might be to do it together.