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I’ve got music playing too loudly in my ears for this to come out poetically, or even well-written. But after what I read in Julia Cameron’s, The Right to Write, today, bad writing is often a good thing. Bad writing is what we do when we aren’t worried about perfectly paced sentences, knowing where the piece is going, or even who’s going to read this. It’s often what makes writing interesting, evocative, real, visceral. So this is a bit of an experiment in that.

I spent a lot of time with Julia and her book today. I spend my breaks and lunch outside in dappled sunlight, listening to the wind in the trees above, watching squirrels chase each other across campus, and reading her book. And it was exactly what I needed. Her words are so inspiring and her exercises fun. Tomorrow I’m supposed to buy 3-5 tabloids, read through them, and cut out the stories that interest me. Then at some point this weekend I’ll sit down and write a tabloid article myself…a story that doesn’t care if it’s well-written and breaks all the rules…that’s just plain fun. I haven’t read a tabloid since my Italian grandmother used to get them to keep up on the highly accurate capturing of Princess Diana’s life.

Julia…and God…have been a big help this week. Though it wasn’t easy, I got up every day this week at 5:10 a.m. and wrote my Morning Pages…three pages of longhand writing about anything and everything. You write the Morning Pages first thing in the morning in an effort to bypass the conscious and critic that keep us from saying what we really feel, asking for the things we really want, writing whatever is in our heart and soul rather than what’s in our head. It’s also a place to connect with your Higher Spirit…the Divine…whatever you call it. And if you do it with an open, honest heart and no expectations, amazing things happen. That happened for me this week. I call it “the magic”…and I’m grateful for it.