Multiple Balls, Two Hands

Wonderings of a Writer #1

I'm currently in the liminal space between earth and sun: As I write this I am wondrously hurtling through space at about 500 miles-an-hour, 32-thousand feet above the planet.

I murmured blessings and gratitude to New York City as the wheels left the ground, and in a couple of hours I'll say hello to Austin as this plane returns to earth.

Planes, trains, and bus rides are a time of integration for me, a lime sherbet between cities. While I'm already missing New York and my peeps in Woodstock and NYC I'm excited to see old and new friends at this weekend's workshop in Austin, spend ten days in Mexico with a friend, and then head home to New Mexico in mid-February.

As you can see, I love traveling. All of it: the arriving, the departing. The unpacking and the packing up. The nesting and the dismantling. The sweetness of seeing old friends and the sorrow of saying goodbye, until next time.

I have many homes and many families, and all of them are precious to me.

Each coming and going reminds me to not take any day, person, or place for granted.

My time in Woodstock at my waterfall house Airbnb helped me clear the space to put more focus on my writing in the coming months. I organized and planned, completed some projects and dreamt into new ones. I finished the final final edits of my upcoming book and am well into planning an epic two-month road trip book tour. I have the title and overview for my next two books, and the vision of a third.

My waterfall friend… The view from the porch of my January writer’s retreat.

People often ask me: “How can you travel so much?” And “How do you write so many books / articles / things?”

Juggling is a good metaphor to answer both questions.

When you have two hands but three or more balls, keeping everything in motion is a combination of grounded stillness, broad, soft awareness, and conscious practice until there is ease. I've been traveling, and writing, my entire life. My first trans-ocean flight was three weeks after I took my first breath; I sat down to write my first book when I was seven years old.

I've had lots and lots of practice until ease at both traveling and writing.

For traveling: when I land someplace, even if I am staying for a day, I inhabit my new home. “I live here today!” I say to myself. My feet are planted in new or familiar soil, knees bent. shoulders relaxed, eyes forward. The multiple balls of arriving, being, and departing are at play. Each ball is held in a steady hand or in the air, anticipated but not worried about. I love all parts of the game: figuring out a new place, getting lost, finding my way, getting more intimate with a place, being welcomed warmly by beloveds, not knowing anyone, being surprised by the unfamiliar, being comforted by the known.

I know even if I drop a ball: miss a flight, get lost, or get hurt that I'll be okay. Because I have missed many flights, discovered amazing things while lost, and bumped up against my own limitations repeatedly. (Ask me about the time I left my purse on an international flight and stranded myself in an airport for a day. Or the time I left my passport on a curb… bye bye, passport!)

Writing is an interesting juggle, especially writing and publishing books. For me it takes me a year or two to write a book, and then there is an entire year of ball-in-the-air while the book goes through the process of being edited, printed, marketed, distributed, and released to the public.

Underworld Fire Breather by Heather Renaux

Artwork by artist Heather Renaux • Underworld Fire Breather • prints available on Etsy here

But it isn't really a ball in the air, because there are so many tiny things to do to keep the energy of a book in motion.

Instead of only having one book-ball in play during this process, which would be like throwing up and catching one ball over and over, I usually am working on multiple books and projects.

So much of good writing comes not just from the actual words onto paper, but from a writer's ability to hold steady in the stillness between words.

To stay grounded and quiet inside, so that I can put my full attention on the ball I am holding and ready to toss up and be keen to shift and catch the next ball.

To be continually practicing and building skills.

To learn to put in the right amount of effort.

To relax and trust gravity.

To be empty and soft, focused and sensing the right amount of pressure, toss, and release for each book.

Sometimes I need the concentration of juggling sharp knives, sometimes the light-heartedness silliness of juggling squishy teddy bears.

Sometimes there is effortless flow, other times I'm scrambling to pick up balls.

The most important thing to remember: it is a game, and to let go of perfection, comparison, and proving.

And especially to not take myself too damn seriously.

Here's to gaining skills through practice, picking up the drops without punishment, and regular laughter and delight as we all juggle multiple experiences.

You Are Everything by Heather Renaux

Artwork by artist Heather Renaux • You Are Everything • prints available on Etsy here

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Come join me for a workshop next Saturday, February 3rd called Living the Warrior Goddess Way. I'm offering this online event it as a delicious pay-what-you-can from $1 to $147; I’ll share the link tomorrow : )

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Yesterday’s full Moon was in Leo, a fire sign that is all about shining brightly and being the rockstar of your own queendom / kingdom / lovedom.

This next section is for my paid subscribers… which includes an excerpt from my upcoming book, some wild thoughts, and a fiery playlist.

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