Lately, my pre-writing rituals have multiplied like busy rabbits, taking up more and more time, time already squeezed by other activities and obligations. Maybe I’m just finding ways to avoid the page. It’s easier to work on collaborative projects, like the anthology–to update the website, check e-mail and log submissions. That kind of work is uncomplicated and makes me feel useful. And it’s easier to read Facebook news and to write brief posts like this one than to begin a new story, or even begin to revise an old one. Beginning requires faith in the work and in my ability to see it through to completion.

When I get out of the habit of writing, of making my own projects a priority, I have to struggle to find my way back to that regular practise, like finding one’s way back to the yoga mat for the daily stretch and meditation, finding and holding a focus through all those busy thoughts that multiply and distract one from what’s most meaningful and necessary.

I know what I have to do–make working on my own stories, or poems, one of the first rituals of my day. Now it’s just a matter of doing so, of beginning.