The Art of Taking Dictation
Come with a wandering mind. Come messy.
This simple remark by Paul Miller transformed prayer for me.
He went on to say in A Praying Life that “if you don’t begin with where you are, then where you are will sneak in the back door. Your mind will wander to where you are weary.”
I found myself stumbling as I worked to keep step with an awkward, forced rhythm of prayer that didn’t permit my heart to connect with His outside of a preset formula: pray for this, then that. More time on this, a little less on that. Don’t forget this place and these folks and that other thing.
My wandering mind would often keep me from completing the agenda, leaving me uninterested in trying again later.
Miller encouraged me to begin with where you are, talking to God even about the distractions that plague my disordered thoughts.
I’ve never desired prayer more in my life.
Because I can begin with where I am.
Funny. Before she finished the first page of The Right to Write, Julia Cameron said the same thing.
The first trick . . . is to just start where you are. It’s a luxury to be in the mood to write. It’s a blessing but it’s not a necessity. Writing is like breathing, it’s possible to learn to do it well, but the point is to do it no matter what. (p. 1)
Starting with where I am — even if that’s messy — allows me to set aside the pressure of not doing it right. Not following the formulas and rules and expectations of folks who know this craft far better than I ever will. It allows me to just write.
And if I can do that, maybe I can catch on to this other thing, this idea that writing is about getting something down, not about thinking something up. Cameron observes that writing is the art of taking dictation, not giving it. (p. 10)
Seems to me we could say that the writing is capturing, not conjuring. Starting where I am allows me to get out of the way and just capture what’s there, not fight that awkward rhythm of trying to make something happen that is not real.
I fight the same fight, it seems, whether in prayer or with the pen. It’s messy because I am. It’s distracted and disordered. But perhaps I could start there, and as Cameron suggests, transcribe the flow rather than force it.
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We begin a new book discussion at High Calling Blogs today on Julia Cameron’s The Right to Write. Join the discussion with Laura’s post today and links to others.
Photo: Where I am right now (The view from the deck where the sun is shining and the wind is not blowing. Well, it’s not blowing hard. It is still South Dakota.)
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Isn’t this the best? I love your analogy to prayer. Writing is sometimes like a prayer for me. I try to offer up my words. When I don’t approach it this way, it does get messy!
I love where you are, Lyla. A good place to start.
2010/04/19 at 4:36 PM
You know, it gets messy for me either way. But when it is an offering, this is for me when the mess works. When it is a holding, keeping, the mess is just a mess.
2010/04/19 at 7:16 PM
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So insightful. The business of coming up with ideas is overwhelming. My life isn’t so exciting at this point, but a lot goes on inside the mind. Being free to share is–well, it’s freeing–liberating.
2010/04/19 at 5:30 PM
Solveig, I loved this idea of getting it down instead of coming up with it. In another portion of the chapter she referred to writing as listening. That one makes me stand still a while.
2010/04/19 at 7:18 PM
just got the book from the library today.
so i don’t have a comment yet…except,
but that your post sounds pretty cool.
2010/04/19 at 6:56 PM
nAncY, I’m looking forward to listening to you once you’ve read a bit. I think your insights will help compel me to read on.
2010/04/19 at 7:19 PM
“Not following the formulas and rules and expectations”…not just of others but of those I put upon myself. To just write and enjoy the process. No matter how messy it turns out.
2010/04/19 at 9:13 PM
Probably more how we put them on ourselves, don’t you think? Even those we think are the expectations of others are, in the end, just what we think they want. Messy’s okay.
2010/04/19 at 9:22 PM
I like this: Writing is capturing, not conjuring
Nice.
2010/04/19 at 9:53 PM
I still have this image of standing with a net after reading these chapters, just trying to catch what’s out there.
2010/04/20 at 8:14 AM
Since you first mentioned A Praying Life, I’ve wanted to get it. Must do that still….
On writing: I’ve been a formula writer for most of my life. Inverted pyramid, or Wall Street Journal style, or … the list goes on. It’s all been formula.
It’s been a great challenge for me to just write without formula, as I am doing now with blogging. I have found it to be incredibly freeing. (Somehow, though, it doesn’t pay as well…)
I look forward to your insights here as your read this book, Lyla. You make The Messy look really, really good.
2010/04/19 at 10:58 PM
I sometimes hesitate to say too much about a book I’m reading — someone else will read it and it won’t meet the expectations of how I hyped it. But this by Miller? Can’t see it not meeting anybody’s expectations. It was a game changer for me — so much so that I don’t mind talking about it in an unrelated book discussion! That said, I’ll gladly pop my tattered and scribbled copy in the mail to you if you don’t mind borrowing “messy.” Just lemme know…
Jennifer, you asked me once if I have any idea where I’m going with something when I start writing. I thought about that question as I read these chapters and tried to pull my thoughts together. If I let myself start “where I am” then no, I usually have no idea where it’s going and I just follow it. And it usually comes out well. But there are other times when I start with the end in mind (a good rule in the rest of life), and it doesn’t generally work so well for me then. So this “start where I am” thing, it’s one I need to listen to a little more.
2010/04/20 at 8:11 AM
love love how you how you gave us this.
I feel as though , if I put everything on hold to get right, my life will keep showing up behind me.
This is freeing , you are right.
2010/04/20 at 6:02 AM
It’ll always show up, won’t it Deb? I suppose we may as well accept that and listen to it. But I’d sure like to get it all right first…
2010/04/20 at 8:14 AM
Writing is so much like praying and praying like writing that sometimes they get mixed up together in the same moments and I can’t tell which one I am really doing. But then, God is a writer, isn’t He? That must be what it is.
Great post.
2010/04/20 at 6:30 AM
Thanks Cassandra. They do get mixed up, don’t they? I love that they do. I tend to think He meant for that.
2010/04/20 at 8:15 AM
thanks for your comment…and yes, i think that blog friends and their encouragement does make a real difference.
2010/04/20 at 12:41 PM
“Capturing not conjuring”–I love this. Somehow, it seems that phrase applies to prayer, too.
2010/04/20 at 8:39 PM
Lyla,
I love your phrase “capturing rather than conjuring.” Isn’t that the truth. When I aim to capture, the words flow so freely, it’s such a joy to write. When I try to conjure, I feel dumb and clunky! I am loving this “Right to Write” book — and I love your reading of it here.
2010/04/20 at 9:13 PM
I have been impressed in my reading and as I write how similar writing is to prayer, at least for me. I have begun writing my prayers out, in fact, because the process is so entwined for me that without writing as I pray I feel like I’m not praying at all. This book is good. So, so good.
2010/04/21 at 5:54 AM
Wow! You are really changing things around here…I almost didn’t recognize you…lol
I know its random….but your uswed to that with me…
2010/04/21 at 4:28 PM
that would be used. ha ha
2010/04/21 at 4:29 PM
Hi Lyla:
When I was in college, I took a class called “Personal Evangelism”. It was taught by a professor who peppered his lectures with cliches. He taught several other courses during the school day/year and if you took any of his classses, you heard the cliches. If you took more than one in a quarter, you got a double dose of the same cliches. However, in the evangelism class, one of his cliches has stayed with me lo these 50 some years. It was, “Take people where they are, not where you want them to be”. While perhaps trite, at least to those who sat in Gibby’s class (as he was familiarly known), it does dovetail with the underlying theme of your blog. Start where you are, not where you want/hope to end up.
Your comments on Miller’s book intrigue me. I’m going to go looking for it.
Dad
2010/04/21 at 6:33 PM
Jennifer and Erin, I agree — prayer and writing are not only similar but can get pretty wrapped up together sometimes.
Michelle — thanks for coming by. I’m afraid that I sound dumb and clunky a lot.
Julie — of course you’re random. And I’ll stop dorking with the layout now.
Dad — wise as usual. That principal is pretty foundational in claims too: take people “as you find them.” You’re stuck with all their strengths and defects. I do better when I can take folks that way in regular life too.
2010/04/21 at 8:00 PM
I appreciate your thoughts on “Starting where you’re at.” That’s always the hardest part.
2010/04/22 at 4:49 AM
Kelly, that is hard. I get so eager for the outcome I forget to enjoy the ride. I forget I can start from anywhere.
2010/04/22 at 8:46 AM
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