Gillian

Boulder, CO, USA

Jeanine Cerundolo

Massachusetts, USA

Ingrid Mangiagalli

Cape Town, South Africa

Maryland

Suzanne Link

Sayville, NY, USA

Duck Duck

David Liver

Strasbourg, France

Shelly Nosbisch

Omaha, NE, USA

Los Angeles, CA

MaryBeth Hyland

Baltimore, Maryland, USA

Nathan

Decatur, GA

Jennifer Joy Miller

Long Beach, CA, USA

Kathleen Barnes

St. Louis, MO, USA

Visualize a personal sanctuary to transform your writing practice into a safe harbor for your creativity.

Spirituality

Performance

Guided Imagery

Creativity

Consciousness

Visualization

English

This is a 20-minute guided visualization for writers and creatives in deep need of sanctuary. Together, we explore how your art can be the harbor in your life, not the storm. We heal our relationship to our work so that we can find refuge in it, rather than have a combative relationship with our medium. This is a relaxing, healing, peaceful guided visualization that will set you up for a regular practice to dip into as needed. Breathe, write, repeat. 

Writing Sanctuary Practice

 Hello, welcome. Today we're going to be doing a 20-minute meditation. So find a comfortable place, sit down, relax. I'll be guiding you throughout and we'll begin and end with a bell. And really just find a space that's comfortable to you. If it feels good for your body, sitting upright is recommended. Closing your eyes whenever that feels good to you. This is a meditation about sanctuary. Calling for sanctuary within and letting that create a ripple effect for sanctuary without. As writers, our words can often feel like the storm and not the harbor. So this meditation is really intended to reconnect you to that sense of safety that your words provide. That place where you can be fully yourself, fearless. A place that is just yours of your own creation, your own design. A place to make mistakes, to explore, to play, to grieve, to question, to be curious. Instead of having a combative relationship with our writing, this meditation really invites you to begin fostering a sense of refuge in your words, in your writing practice. So wherever this meditation finds you, I invite you to take a couple of nice deep breaths just to get centered, to arrive in this space. Taking a nice inhale and exhale. And another inhale and exhale. Do that one more time. Maybe end your exhale with a sound, a big sigh. I want our writing to feel like that exhale. Not constricted, but open, expansive, flowing. And that starts inside us, in our spirit, in our mind, in our hearts. That's where the work comes from. So we need to tend to our inner sanctuary in order to have our writing be a hideaway. Not a place where we hide from ourselves, but a place where we can shut the door on all the overwhelming aspects of our lives. Sanctuaries are often considered holy places. We often hear people talk about the body as a temple. So thinking about really being grounded in your body right now. Really take a moment to feel your body in this space. What feels good, what doesn't feel good. There might be feelings of discomfort internally. You might have some emotion you're working with right now. You might have some physical discomfort. I invite you to stretch or get a little bit more comfortable in your seat. But once you find your seat, really see if you can sit with that discomfort. A lot of these holy places have hard pews to sit on or uncomfortable meditation cushions. They're not always spa-like places. Sanctuaries are retreats, but they often require us to show up with a degree of presence. They don't lull us into necessarily a dream-like state. They really invite us to bring all of ourselves to that holy, sacred space. So that's what we're doing here. So I'm going to ring the bell and as I ring it, follow the sound into this meditation in the pockets of silence that are provided. Just let this meditation session be a sanctuary for you. So when thoughts and storylines arise, you can acknowledge them, but then let them pass away like a cloud passing over the sun or the moon. Don't hold on to it. Return to your breath, breathing in and out through the nose. Feeling your body in this space. Perhaps your hands are on your thighs. The crown of your head reaching toward the ceiling as though there's a string attached to the crown that's being gently tugged up in a dignified, regal posture where you are showing up to the sacred space of you, to this sanctuary. Feeling mindful of the breath, we're just going to follow our breath for a few minutes here in the silence. What does sanctuary feel like? What does the harbor feel like? What does it feel like? Thoughts and noises may arise. They are welcome. They're part of you. They're part of your sanctuary. They're part of this process. Again, returning to the breath when you feel like your mind is being tugged along by distraction. Sanctuary is a reprieve from the endless cycle of thoughts and the worries and the hurt, a reprieve from our responsibilities and anything that overwhelms us. Finding sanctuary in your creative spirit, in yourself, so that you can bring that inner expansiveness to the page. Anybody who seems to love more than the Indian music though. Although many so-called holy spaces are sometimes used for that purpose, it's a place to accept yourself, to accept the contradictions, the places where you fall short of your personal goals, to accept your craft issues and aspects of story that you struggle with, to accept the areas you need to work on as a writer, as a creative. It's a place to forgive yourself for the times you didn't show up to write, for the ways in which you allow the inner critic to get its claws into you and allow you to be ruled by fear. Sanctuary is a place away from that inner critic. It's yours, it's a reclaiming of your creative territory. It's a reclaiming from professional goals, from publishing, from worries about readers or reviewers or coaches or teachers or writing partners. Your sanctuary is your creativity, your imagination, your words. What brought you here in the first place? What brought you to words in the first place? Think about when you first began to write. Why was it necessary for you to put words on a page? Take a moment to picture yourself when you first started to write. Maybe you were a child, maybe you were in college, maybe it was very recently. Bring that image of yourself at that time to mind. Take a moment to reconnect with that part of yourself, which is still part of you because it's you. Send some love to yourself. You can put your hand on your heart if that feels honest to you today. Take a moment to thank yourself for choosing words as a sanctuary, for choosing creativity over any number of things that are far less fulfilling in life. Honor that artist's self that you were and are. And now bring to mind an image of yourself as you are now. Could be as you are right now, sitting and meditating or earlier today. And I want you to picture yourself in the first image that comes to mind to you when you hear the word sanctuary. What is the image that comes to mind? It could be a place you've been, an imaginary place, it could be far away, it could be in your own home, it could be fictional, place you read about and fell in love with. See if you can get as specific as possible, creating a safe haven in your mind that you can return to when you feel like you're in the storm and you need to find that harbor. And the storm might be a story that's not working, it might be a rejection letter, it might be a partner who isn't supportive of your work, it might be the lack of time, it might be your kids interrupting you while you're trying to write, it might be all the voices in your head telling you you aren't good enough and it's never gonna happen and what's the point? The space you're creating right now is the harbor that you will go to in your mind to find that inner sanctuary and that's the place you're gonna write from when the Greek chorus or the inner critic come in and tell you maybe you shouldn't do this anymore. So take a minute, really conjure this place. Are there any sounds in this place? What does it smell like? Are you alone or are there other people present? What time of day is it? Moonlight or sunlight, candlelight, stained glass window light? What's the temperature in this space? Take a moment to see how you feel in your body right now. How does it feel to be in a sanctuary of your own making? Does your chest feel looser? Maybe you're smiling, maybe your body temperature has shifted. If you don't notice anything, no problem. The sanctuary is a space for whatever works for you. There's no wrong way to do this. Take a moment to walk around this sanctuary you've created in your mind. Really be there. And as we begin to let that image drop, know that you can always come back to this space. You can conjure it back up, close your eyes and stay there for as long as you need to. Perhaps you could do that before you write or after you write or in times when you just can't get to the words but you want to connect to that inner sanctuary. Letting your creativity, your writing, your words be the harbor, not the storm. Be the place you go to when you need to flee, when you need a break, when you need to breathe, when you need to reconnect to yourself, when you need to feel peaceful, at ease and safe, nourished, a refuge, a hideaway, an oasis. In Song of Myself, Walt Whitman says, Not I, not anyone else can travel that road for you. You must travel it for yourself. It is not far. It is within reach. Perhaps you have been on it since you were born and did not know. Perhaps it is everywhere on water and on land. Your sanctuary is yours and the more you return to it, the realer it will feel, the more ownership you will have of it and the more you can bring that into the writing and the work and you can begin to live from that place of sanctuary to spend more time in the harbor regardless of the storms that surround you. Take a nice deep breath as we enter the end of our meditation here. Take a moment to thank yourself for sitting, for doing this. Thank your creativity for having your back. Thank your imagination for the wonders it creates for you and others through your words. As I ring the bell, you can follow the sound out. Feel free to stay sitting in the silence for a few more minutes, really basking in the quiet. you