Mindful Moments
Leaning into the emotional landscape of your work in progress...
Hello dear readers!
What have I been up to this week?
This week, I've been immersing myself in the first draft of my debut memoir, a deeply personal journey. So far, I’ve accomplished an exploratory draft, along with numerous vignettes and poems that have arisen along the way.
Working on this exploratory draft has stirred up a mixture of emotions—both daunting and inspiring.
The daunting part comes with revisiting some of the more painful chapters of my life. The early deaths of my mam and dad was hard enough, but losing my sister to lung cancer was something else entirely. It wasn’t just losing my sister and closest lifelong friend; it was that I lost my past, present, and future all at once, something I never expected.
Photo © Helen Errington: Me with my sister on my wedding morning; 8 weeks before her death
And yet, there are days when writing feels deeply inspiring, when the need to write is almost physical, like an energy rising from within, reminding me just how important this memoir is. It’s a force that gently guides my hand to the page, even on the hardest days. I’ve come to see this energy as my conscience wanting to right a wrong—knowing how often sibling grief is overlooked, treated as if it doesn’t quite matter. By writing and sharing my story, I hope to raise awareness of sibling grief and offer validation to others finding their way through similar loss.
Serendipity!
Photo © Helen Errington: Settling down to read!
When I started working on my memoir project, I never anticipated encountering such emotional extremes, let alone experiencing them as creative fuel. Imagine my surprise when, yesterday, as I settled down to begin reading "Letters to a Young Poet: With the Letters to Rilke from the Young Poet," my eyes stumbled upon the following section:
When the young poet, Franz, asks Rilke if he thought his poetry was any good, Rilke replied saying:
“Go into yourself. Look for the reason that is making you write; see whether it has put down roots in the deepest place in your heart; admit, in all honesty, whether or not you would die if you weren’t allowed to write. This above all: Ask yourself, in your night’s quietest moment, Do I have to write? Dig deep down into yourself for the answer. And if it is yes, if you can meet this solemn question with a strong and simple “I must,” then build your life around that necessity. Your whole life, down to its most trivial, indifferent moments, must be a sign of this need, a testament to it.”
(From: Letter One – Paris, 17th February, 1903)
Reflections
I invite you to take a moment and reflect:
Think about a significant emotion you've experienced (or are currently experiencing) with a writing project. If this is your first time trying this exercise, you might choose an emotion that’s not too overwhelming.
Sit quietly with this emotion for a few moments. Notice where it settles in your body and how it feels. Be open to any insights or messages it might be offering.
Write down what you’ve observed about this emotion—what it brings up, how it feels, and what it might be telling you.
Consider how this emotion is influencing and/or shaping your writing process. What role might it play in the way you continue to work on this project?
If you’re planning to share your work with others, reflect on how this emotion might help create a deeper connection with your readers, inviting them to feel closer to your story—its personal and universal themes.
There’s quite a lot to think about here, so please take it slowly and gently. Be kind to yourself as you explore these reflections, and remember, it’s absolutely okay to do as much or as little as feels right for you. Honour your own pace, and trust that you will know when you’re ready to stop.
Wishing you a creatively rich weekend.
Until next time,
Helen xx