Spring Writing Workshops + renegotiating my relationship to the news

Six birds against a cloudy, blue sky.

Hello Lovely!

First things first — Firefly spring workshops open for registration today. We’d absolutely love to set a place at the table for you.

Last week I deleted the news apps on my phone and promptly had an existential crisis.

What if I miss something? I believe that the news is important — how it lets us connect to the story of the world beyond our little circles, how it shows us the work that needs to be done. I listen closely.

But then, in a workshop, someone mentioned that she only reads news once a day now, after meditating, and before writing, so that she can fully take it in, and work with it.

Everyone piped up, animated and eager to share. We all read different news sources, for different reasons, in different amounts. We were all overloaded, trying to figure out how to keep connected to what matters… and still be able to hear our own voices. Still able to write.

Everyone was doing it differently. No one was doing it wrong.

I realized that I’ve never questioned turning the tap on high, even while I’ve noticed what it takes from me. Lately, the attention I’ve given to the headlines has dulled my focus, shortened my attention span, and almost obliterated my connection to my own voice. Just writing this short newsletter has been exhausting.

Then there’s “compassion fade” — that our feelings of compassion decrease as our exposure to painful events increases. It’s followed by “compassion collapse.” To me this is the opposite of what it means to be alive. And the opposite of what I need to keep writing.

I want to live in a world where we can weave in and out of the big story, and our smaller ones, guided by the simple question — where can I be of use today?

I want to live in a world where we have plenty of space for the people around us, we’re never too overloaded ask anyone how they’re doing, and really listen to the answer.

I want to live in a world where we all know that we’re news too, and that our lives in their magnificent pain and triumphs are allowed to unfold in the realm of language. In fact, they should.

My new question is — what helps me to be here, in the best way I can?

“Here”, yes, in this delicate world with it’s 8 billion beautiful people who I care for so deeply. And also here in my neighbourhood, in my friendships, in my human body, that also needs some tending.

Here in my voice, in my deep desire to write things down.

Here with you.

Turns out, “here” is a really big word, and I need a lot more room in my days to be with all of it.

If you want to make space to connect to your voice in the coming months, we’d love too host you.

We’ve got lots of fun stuff! this spring I’m running a new online workshop about how to write a blog without losing your humanity. We also have a full weekend in-person workshop here in Toronto. We have lots of chestnuts that you can come back to over and over, like Focus and Flow (offered by Mari this season) and Keep Your Pen Moving (offered by Asifa.)

You can see the whole line up here:

Let’s be real — the apps will probably be back on my phone by the end of the week.

But before I tune back in, I want to asked to my neighbour Sam about the arthritis in his knee, and see he wants help with dog walks. I want to start writing in the mornings again, even if it’s just doodles for a while. I want to feel my own outline, the shape I take up, the story my life is quietly asking me to write.

I’ll meet you there.

In it with you,