Who am I when I am‘the writer’? (Part 1 of 3)

On being comfortable to wear a label again and call it my work.

Like many others, over the past two weeks I’ve spent a few moments each day contemplating a question poised by the consummate

Beth Kempton

. Please indulge me while I share what I now know to be true.

What I love about writing.

I love going back to a piece of writing from a few weeks or months ago and reabsorbing the words that came from my pen and the feeling I get from saying” I created that.”

As someone who would never put herself in any creative box, the wholeness I feel when I write is like nothing else I’ve ever experienced. When I craft and shape, when I feel I’ve reached the point I can let my writing go and release it into the world.

I love how when I’m in the middle of writing a piece, the words swim in my head and I move around in them. Sometimes floating, sometimes treading water, sometimes fighting against the current and others moving through them with long, gliding strokes to reach our destination.

I love waking in the morning to the soft, gentle wisps of words, phrases and even sentences that drift into my consciousness and welcome me to the day. It’s a far cry away from the stresses and worries of my life before I wrote.

I love that it still feels an indulgence and a pleasure to spend my time with my pen and my notebook or my keyboard. I love how I now read as a writer; how my enjoyment of and appreciation for other people’s words has risen to a different place.

And I love all the beautiful souls who have entered my world all because we like to scribble down our thoughts with a pen.

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Let me tell you about my desk.

Oh my days! My desk! It is actually quite tidy right now as I had a big clear out to get my beautiful sash window fixed a few weeks ago and I have purposefully not returned all the junk to my little box room of an office.

The things I gave permission to return:

• laptop, of course

• my only real ‘tech’ - my webcam and Elgato light,

• Pens in one of the kid’s old desk tidy

• a select few, current notebooks and planner

• the cute little Coin-leaf plant a friend gave me for my birthday last year which I have managed to keep alive for 6 months - it’s even grown some new leaves! (Big confession here - I use an app to remind me to water and mist all my plants but it seems to be working.)

• a lovely scented candle I treated myself to at Christmas and I lit it every day during Ink + Flame (Beth’s wonderful immersive writing course).

How long it will stay this tidy remains to be seen but I am loving it for now!

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I most often write when the clock says the time.

I love an early bird writing stint - whether that be in the darkness of winter or the brightness of a spring sunrise. I can capture the ideas which often seem to float into my mind’s eye as I wake up, failing that they more often than not burst like a bubble and disappear. Words flow in a hazy ease before the switch of my brain flicks on.

That said, more recently I’ve found another juicy window in the late afternoon when I seem to get a second airy space for the words to enter.

Finally, although I’m not sure if this strictly qualifies as it’s more an activity than a specific time of day, is walking the dog - especially after an early writing session. Then it’s more of speaking into my phone than writing and later on deciphering the way AI has misunderstood my Yorkshire accent!

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The season of my writing.

A season to write
By Jacqui Taylor

No seasons of my life to compare, 
writing lays over the last five years 
as a light dusting of snow on a winter’s morn. 

Beneath its frozen beauty, it held me
with icy fingertips, my body petrified. 
Possible futures revealed, traced by ink on page.

A companion in the dark, sleepless hours
as poison seared through my veins. 
Writing carried the melt water of my pain.

Nature’s seasons pass by and through me.
My pen learns to shape the words
of what is seen, felt, heard, tasted, not only feared. 

Writing for this season places my naked body
in the eye of each storm, calm but exposed. 
Better than a life with no writing at all.

My writing essentials.

I’m a scribbler, and love a hastily drawn out mind map with curly clouds and spidery lines off at all angles - so lots of pens, pencils, notebooks and pieces of paper are always to hand. The shelf behind me holds my wooden Buddha from my trip to Thailand over 30 years ago, à sound bowl and an incense stick on the cute stand my daughter’s girlfriend made for me 😍

The books in sight on my shelves also spark ideas as I cast a glance around my room, and I’ve noticed which ones I’m drawn to at particular times, or moods. As with photographs of loved ones, their memories take me off elsewhere or bring me back here.

Then there is the bronze, glittered mask I wore at a party (and actually won a prize for) which has inspired at least one piece of work.

The champagne corks - four so far - mark each anniversary since my cancer diagnosis and, well, they speak for themselves.

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Thank you for reading.

with gratitude

Jacqui x

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PS When I am not working on my book, I offer a lovely community here on Substack where we gather each month to learn more about mediation and there is a guided practice. This is a replay of the most recent Live Meditation Circle - Letting go without trying - from behind the paywall.

If you enjoy the recording then sign up as a paid subscriber to join me every month.

The next live Mediation Circle dates are:

Gathering Seven - Tuesday 20th May at 19:00 - 20:00 London, UK time (BST)

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By upgrading to paid you are also invited to the Seasonal Mentoring Gatherings. The last one - Is it me? Defending our personal reality replay can be found here.

If you would like to get details about the next live session then subscribe to join our lovely community.

Until the end of May there is a lovely discount on monthly and annual membership.

Please get in touch if you have any questions about the book or joining my community.