I read “Writing Down the Bones”, Then I Responded
Here is a compilation of my short writings in response to Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg. I neither review nor dispute her notions — I was processing a lot after reading her pieces.
1. Writing Tools
A friend of mine recommended me Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg, a book filled with numerous short essays on writing. I borrowed it from a library as one of the companions for Eid holidays. I tried to read it, assuming that she will directly address the notions in writing. But in the beginning part, an essay was titled “Beginner’s Mind, Pen and Paper”. Can you imagine how structural and pragmatic she was — discussing the basic tools first then further ideas and technicalities later? Mind you, she wasn’t dictating the exact tools.
“Choose your tools carefully, but not so carefully that you get uptight or spend more time at the stationery store than at your writing table,” she wrote, simple yet witty.
Hence it got me thinking, “What are my writing tools?”. Let’s start with the old-fashioned way. Here are my top 5 stationeries, both for write and sketch:
- Transparent A5 binder with dotted loose leaf
- Zebra Kokoro gel pen — 0.5 mm black
- Muji A6 slim notebook
- Muji mechanical pencil — 0.5 mm semitransparent
- Pentel Caplet mechanical pencil — 0.5 transparent
(Actually, I’ve used countless amount of drawing pens but let that sit just for work thingy)
When it comes to writing digitally — Tumblr and Medium are too convenient for me, I find that writing on other platforms feels harder (Sorry, Word and Pages). I’m okay with any physical keyboard, it’s just that writing from the phone is not my cup of tea.
All of these preferences got me to reflect on how personal even something as basic as writing tools can be. My choices spark joy, I’m not exaggerating. So, what’s your weapon to jot down your notion?
Oh, I’d say, Writing Down the Bones is a good catalyst to write.
2. Suffering
Stumbled upon Writing Down the Bones, I would like to respond the third prompt from an essay, “A List of Topics for Writing Practice”.
“3. Take something you feel strongly about, whether it positive or negative, and write about is as though you love it, then flip over and write the same thing as though you hate it. Then write about it perfectly normal.”
Okay. Let me breathe to process the normal one.
Lately things have been complicated in my head like a tangle of wires pulling at each other. These ‘wires’ actually have something in common — I’m suffering for something that didn’t need to be suffered. So many of my recent mistakes are recalled in my mind. I’m also thinking about how dependent on other people I am at this point, in terms of enjoyment and misery, and how frequently they feel guilty about it. I feel utterly uneasy with tons of situations. I repeat, I feel so bothered. A few things still give me a glimpse of joy, but it doesn’t significantly alleviate my agony. I long for the old version of me when it comes to resilience, mindfulness, and celebration of small joys.
I don’t want to write that much openly. Though I aware these perplexing stuffs are irrational thoughts, I’m suffering in my mind, thus let me heal. My sleep schedule is catastrophic.
3. Read, Listen, Write
Natalie Goldberg once wrote an essay about “Listening”:
“Basically, if you want to become a good writer, you need to do three things. Read a lot, listen well and deeply, and write a lot. And don’t think too much.”
I can easily declare I’m not good enough as a writer. Do I feel proud of it? Not at all, but I can explain the reasons behind that statement.
Reading is a regular habit for me. Whenever I finished a book, I have the urge to find more new readings. I’m also chronically online on Twitter if you count it as reading… Unquestionably, reading may provide an abundance of inspiration for writing — whether the urge to review, to respond, or to write about similar issues. However, there are only a few genres that I enjoy reading. I simply love reflective books; it all made me rethink about life. Hence, I can write, but I’m aware that many topics and techniques remain unexplored in my writings so far.
Active listening is also a primary activity for me, probably equal with eat and sleep. Tons of my writings were based on my conversations with people. I also consistently listen to my heart, my passion, and my past self, in order to write as catharsis. Moreover, song lyrics catch my attention a lot. Sometimes I ask myself why I can’t compose writings with such depths.
Talking about how much I write — I’ve written quite a lot as an amateur, not quite as a professional writer yet. My blog has been up for more than 8 years. If that age is analogous to a schoolgirl, she can already write rhyming poems. Intermezzo, during my third year of blogging, I imagined my blog as a child who just went to kindergarten. I know it makes no sense.
“And don’t think too much.” Damn, I think too much. This is why.
4. Writing as Catharsis
There’s an essay that got me questioning myself all over again, “Why Do I Write”:
“Why do I write?” It’s a good question. Ask it of yourself every once in a while. No answer will make you stop writing, and over time you will find that you have given every response.”
I used to write fiction instead of diary when I was a kid. I gave up immediately, realizing I was untalented in this area; hence I honed my skill in drawing. Creating comic strip was one of my hobbies. Fast forward to 2016, I came across Relativitas, a book I have mentioned countless times. This essays compilation on architecture written by Adi Purnomo inspired me to write about what I’ve learned. I started a blog at that moment. As time went by, I jotted down anything inside my mind. Writing as catharsis — that’s what keeps me going.
“Why do I still write?” I mumbled in front of my screen.
I love my writing process. Sometimes it was exhausting but always liberating. Usually, my thoughts weren’t well-structured at the beginning, but I kept writing. Each part of my thoughts marked with bullet points, then I rearranged the order like solving a quiz. The answer is, I still write to restructure my thoughts as well.
Why do you write?
Katagiri Roshi used to say: “Have kind consideration for all sentient beings.” Once I asked him, “What are sentient beings anyway? Are they things that feel?” He told me that we have to be kind even to the chair, the air, the paper, and the street. That’s how big and accepting our minds have to become. — Natalie Goldberg
