Creative hoarding – the cluttered mind of the writer

I have sorely neglected this website since October for several reasons, my primary excuse being that I finally moved house in November.  Not only have I been very pressed for time but my creative juices ran dry and I have felt bereft of inspiration of any kind.  Such is the soul-destroying nature of the English housing market and conveyancing process!

The sheer amount of physical stuff we had to move between old dwelling and new made me think about hoarding.  We’ve all seen the extreme hoarding shows on TV and interestingly I actually know a couple of hoarders who are unable to use whole rooms in their homes due to clutter, one of whom has to walk sideways through the mountains of piled up papers and magazines in his flat’s usable rooms.   Hoarding has deep emotional roots and I can highly recommend the wonderful and insightful book by Lisa Jewell, The House We Grew Up In, which takes a painful look at the effect of hoarding on a whole family.

But as writers, do we emotionally hoard?  Are our minds as cluttered as the hoarder’s home where nothing is thrown away in case it can somehow be used in a future piece or novel?  Although I like my physical house to be organised and ordered and very clean and tidy — and my husband leans towards minimalism — I fear that rather than the tastefully furnished spacious and modern loft apartment, my brain actually resembles a very overstuffed and sprawling ramshackle house where broken items are not discarded in case they can be mended one day and each room is piled from floor to ceiling with possessions the owner couldn’t quite bring herself to throw out.   Snippets of overheard conversations, things I’ve read, characters in films: they are all whirring round my brain ready to be used some time in the future.

Is this the sign of a creative mind: chaotic and bursting full with ideas, some only embryonic, some reasonably well-developed, never resting, always alert?   Is it good for a writer to see the value of something old that can be dusted off and restored for future use?  I have tried mindfulness – see previous blog – but I just cannot get on with it as random thoughts and ideas pop into my brain when I am trying to concentrate on something else.   The same is true for meditation: emptying my mind proves impossible.  Although isn’t writing the ultimate mindfulness activity?

I try to write ideas down in notebooks so they are not lost and in the hope that by transferring them onto physical paper, it will free up brain space to let in other things.  I even tried to have a break from writing while I was moving and couldn’t face the blank page, but the need to force those words out could not be shifted.  I have heard it said that as a writer you write because you simply have to.

So surely emotional  minimalism is  anathema to the writer:  we need our cupboards to be stuffed full of colour and chaos.

 

Writing – the ultimate mindfulness activity?

Unless you’ve been living in a cave with absolutely no internet access, you’ll have noticed that everyone is talking about mindfulness.  Living in and appreciating the moment seems a simple concept but in this busy and technology driven era, multi-tasking is such second nature that it takes real effort to retrain our brains to be in the here and now.  (As I type this I also have one eye on Midsomer Murders, am fussing the dog and trying to drink a smoothie to get up to my five a day).

Adult colouring books, themselves a form of mindfulness –  or ‘art therapy’ as it is also called – have topped the Amazon bestseller list for months now.  I’m a huge fan although I do my colouring while watching the telly so I’m not sure if that counts!

A friend is even taking a degree in mindfulness and she loves it. It’s not just psychobabble: living in the here and now and really appreciating everything we are experiencing with all our five senses has enormous health benefits.  I decided to give it a try a few months ago to counteract all the stress of trying to move house.

As a Type A personality, I find concentrating on one thing impossible.  My mind is forever racing with a never ending to-do list, imaginary scenarios about what might or might not happen and then flashing back to the past  So giving mindfulness a go and trying to lose myself in the moment is proving very challenging.  Like most skills, it takes practice.

It might just be I’ve already found my mindfulness activity.  We all have a ‘flow’activity where time becomes suspended and we are totally lost and absorbed in our own world. For some it is a sport, gardening or baking: for me, it is writing.  Once I stop my displacement/distraction activities and cease making excuses as to why I can’t write, and actually put bum to seat and fingers to keyboard, hours can go by as I become lost in the world of words I have created.  This new world becomes my reality, a reality rich and bright in detail with wonderful three-dimensional characters.  If the real world intrudes (the phone ringing, the dog wanting to be let out) I’m always jolted back to reality with a shock, rather like waking suddenly from a vivid dream.

If your passion is writing then you will know exactly what I mean.   But everyone should have a ‘flow’ activity where they can switch off from the distractions of the life and really appreciate the moment.  And I can highly recommend the colouring books!