Welcome to the March Dig (a bit late) . . .
I’ve been under the weather and couldn’t get the March Dig out on its usual schedule. I appreciate your patience.
In case you’re new here, let me remind you that the Dig is a monthly set of writing prompts to help you “dig” deeper into the current of your own creativity and benefit from its flow.
Respond to one or more of these prompts in whatever form tickles your fancy—journaling, poem, story, essay . . . the possibilities are endless.
Be playful with the prompt . . . or serious . . . or seriously playful. Practice old ways of writing, or try a fresh new approach. Write alone, or with a friend.
Most of all, write for yourself. Write what you enjoy, even if it’s occasionally difficult. Write what’s true—in the soul sense.
#1: A one-word writing prompt
Write anything in response to this word: PATIENT (noun or adjective).
Did you know . . . The adjective form, meaning “capable of enduring misfortune, suffering, etc., without complaint," dates from the mid-14th century paciente, deriving from the Old French pacient and directly from the Latin patientem. By late 14th-century, it also carried the connotations of "slow to anger, self-restrained, having the temper which endures trials and provocations." It had also taken on the noun form, referring to a person under medical treatment.
#2: Start here.
Use this phrase as a starting point: “the other side of the door.”
Questions you might ask yourself, to start:
What does the door tell your senses? What does the door look like? Feel like? Sound like? etc.
What is on this side of the door? That side?
How do you feel in relation to the door?
Is there only one door?
#3: Enter a small discomfort.
Embrace the small discomfort of writing in a way that you usually don’t. It will stretch your comfort zone, especially if you do so without judging yourself or the outcome. Just make the effort.
The possibilities are endless. Examples:
If you usually tend to avoid rhyme and/or rhythm when writing poetry, compose a poem that rhymes and/or is metered.
If you usually write what is factual, write a short piece of fiction—as brief as a paragraph or two.
If you usually write journal entries or very personal material, write without ever referring to yourself.
If you usually write creatively on a device, write longhand instead.
If you rarely write anything to be shared, write something to share.
Want to share?
Share your work with other Diggers. Swap ideas. Ask questions. Reveal insights.
On this side of the door:
roses are red,
violets are blue.
There is rhythm and rhyme
and harmony -
composed in stanza and verse -
fashioned into lyric and song.
On the other side of the door,
the toast is getting cold on the plate,
the milk is getting warm on the counter,
and the oatmeal is burning on the stove.
Moral of the story:
don’t write poetry while cooking breakfast.
The Other Side
There are too many choices!
Colors. Designs. Patterns.
The time has come.
The Ceremony of Thresholds.
How do I choose?
I must only pick one.
Whichever door I choose, I must boldly enter and
proceed to whatever uncertainty lies in wait.
Is the design a clue to
what’s on the other side?
Is the pattern that I see just an illusion?
If the door is beautifully decorated,
does that mean it is an entryway to more beauty?
What if it is plain?
This door looks like a puzzle.
Must I solve it and prove my intellect and worthiness?
There are strange voices on the other side of this one.
If I listen to them, will they tell me what to do?
How, oh how, shall I choose?
I pause.
Silence.
I try to still the voices running laps in my mind.
I breathe.
Inhale: Empty
Exhale: me
Inhale: Peace
Exhale: Authenticity
In the stillness, I begin to step towards a door.
I am drawn to its simplicity.
There’s beauty without boasting.
Inhale: Joy
Exhale: Centeredness
Warmth and light seem to emanate,
and yet, the air is crisp and refreshing.
Do I hear a whisper?
It invites me closer.
What’s that aroma?
Keep breathing.
Inhale: Calm
Exhale: Clarity
I reach for the handle.
It turns slowly.
I hear the click.
Breathe.
I exhale loudly as I push.
Gently.
Yes!
It is open.
I pause,
inhaling wonder and
exhaling wows!
I cross the threshold.
What a ripe and glorious place.
A chance to be curious,
to explore,
to create,
to flourish.
Inhale: Thank
Exhale: You
And look!
More doors up ahead!