A lot of books have been published about the craft of writing. Some are more formulaic. Others, however, discuss writing as more of a mystical process. Writing is less about telling or teaching, but more about discovering. It’s about delving into the mind and the subconscious, finding what may be lurking, and being brave enough to share it.
A plot may twist and turn. A narrator may delight the reader with wit. But when a plot does not venture beyond the senses, beyond the everyday world of thoughts and feelings, it is like any other experience. The magic of writing lies in its ability to engage the mind, then to try to go beyond it.
An intimate look into a character’s thought process, for example, is something that makes us observe our own thoughts and belief systems. A hard look at societal norms that we take for granted makes us think beyond the status we were born into. A character’s description of emotions may lead us to remember, and even transcend, those emotions in our own histories
I would argue, then, that a good writer needs practices that go beyond the mind. A great writer can observe the human mind with piercing clarity. They can see what it is capable of, as well as its limitations.
This is where practices like meditation and mindfulness come in. The very act of slowing habituated thoughts, to see what is in between, is an experience that, with time, can lead to tremendous insights. What about the human experience is the same? When we take away the confines of age, gender, nationality, race, socioeconomic status – what is left?
And yet, there is a contradiction in practices like meditation and mindfulness. In order to engage in them, one must, gradually, retire the very mind that seeks clarity. Writers are cerebral creatures. And being required to pause the mind, even for a small period of time, can require a great deal of effort.
This is what happens to me continually, as a writer, and as a meditator. On the one hand, my mind is constantly questioning, commenting, and analyzing. And on the other hand, there is a part of me that is observing the mind, that is slowing it down, that is training it to let go. It can make for confusing mornings and nights especially, those periods of time when I am most alone with my thoughts and judgments.
But I tell myself that practicing both writing and meditation is worth the effort. After all, any musician will vouch for this truth : the more one thinks about the music — the more one plans and plots where to pause, where to soften the note, where to emote — the flatter the music is. A true musician knows how to let go, how to watch and allow as the music forms by itself. After all the thought and planning comes surrender.
Perhaps it is the same with writing as well. When we first start writing, we think. But as we become more seasoned, we learned how to let go, and to watch what words form on the keyboard.
--
A.M. Sarma is an aspiring author, and a recipient of the 2023 SCBWI Emerging Voices Award. She is currently seeking representation for her manuscript "Under the Gulmohar Tree" (young adult historical fiction.) Besides fiction, she enjoys learning about philosophies and mythologies from around the world. She is a pediatric speech therapist by day, and lives in California.