Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Timed Write

I got a book by Natalie Goldberg called Old Friend from Far Away: The Practice of Writing Memoir. It was not exactly what I expected, but something I needed regardless.

This is one of the timed write prompts: Tell me about a time you washed the dishes. Go. Ten minutes.

Here is my response, proof that you can write about anything and have it turn out worthwhile.

A year or two ago, at Thanksgiving, I washed the dishes by hand in order to escape socializing with my family. I feel as though I don't fit in with my family so avoiding conversation with them isn't that far-fetched. So, I'm washing my grandmother's rose patterned china and silver silverware in soapy warm water. I think someone might have been drying while I washed, but I remember this experience as solitary, so perhaps not.

Your hands get all soft and pruny under water and you know they'll become rough and dry when you dry them off, so you don't really want the dish washing experience to end quickly. It's also very relaxing and mechanical. It allows your thoughts to wander, or like meditation, to focus in.
The washcloth or scrub-brush gets all that left-on food off and you are a million miles away.

Perhaps you're dreaming about graduate school or thinking of what a mess you've made of your life. Perhaps you're simply acknowledging that you are avoiding your family. Either way, you can escape the world when you wash dishes. It's a cleansing, baptismal experience, like communion. You feel as clean and washed as those dishes, even when you come away dirty and ashamed.

***
It's not all good of course, but this timed write ended on a promising note. This is what I love about writing. There's always something to say. And out of the trivial can come pure gold. If I revised this timed write and went with the last sentence as a guide, this could make an excellent free write.

For instance:

I washed the dishes by hand last Thanksgiving in order to escape socializing with my family. I'm not that great at socializing anyway, so they weren't missing much. I don't feel like I fit in with my family. I don't think they'd like me very much if they knew me. And they don't know me beyond a surface level.

But there's nothing but surface when you're washing dishes. Dishes don't ask mundane questions about your life or try to find out who you aren't dating. Doing the dishes is peaceful. It's a solitary experience that allows your thoughts to wander, or like meditation, to focus in. Your thoughts can be as far away as you like.

Perhaps I was dreaming about graduate school, or thinking about what a mess I've made of my life. Perhaps I was simply acknowledging that I was avoiding my family. Either way, washing the dishes allowed me to escape, to recuperate from interaction, to dream a little, to think.

Washing the dishes is a cleansing, baptismal experience if you do it mindfully. You feel as clean and washed as those dishes, even when you come away dirty and ashamed.