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Rest + Community

Last week marked the end of a very long, busy summer of packing up my house and moving. Finally mostly settled, I put my to-do list aside and hopped in my car for a 45-minute drive across town to meet two other busy writers for lunch. A long lunch. A lunch that required a sacrifice of time for each of us.

 Honestly, I could easily contend that I had no business taking what amounted to almost a full day away from my writing and editing work, work that had piled up during my oh-so-busy season. In fact, before I left the house late Friday morning, my shoulders knotted as my to-do list nagged. What was I thinking when I said “yes” to lunch?

But as I drove away from work and toward rest, toward community, tension eased and the fog that had settled over my mind weeks before began to clear.

Our time spent together included energizing conversation about our diverse denominational backgrounds, our differing spiritual practices, our career trajectories, and more. The conversation was often punctuated by laughter and ceased only when our mouths were filled with food—and not for very long.

As I drove home, body and mind relaxed, new ideas formed, and the desire to create replaced the previous dread. I realized, again, the necessity of both time away from work and time spent in community. Time away from our creative endeavors refreshes us mentally and physically, and time spent with like-minded creatives energizes us and stimulates our own creativity.

Rest + Community = Increased Creativity

As you’re reading this, you may be wishing you were part of a community of writers, wishing you could take time off to join a couple of writer friends for lunch. I understand that longing. As a shy, introverted homebody, I realized several years ago I’d neglected two of the most important aspects of my writing life: rest and community.

Without rest and without friendships with other writers, a writer will eventually burnout. I know this from experience. Creativity will wane, the joy of writing will dissipate, and the purpose that was once passion will pass.

How do you go about developing patterns of rest and building community? You choose to do so. You do so with intention. You pray, sharing the desires of your heart with the God who loves you and is the giver of all good gifts. Then when opportunities present themselves, or when you go looking for opportunities to both rest and connect, you step out in faith. You sacrifice time, you might sacrifice financially, and maybe like me, you sacrifice the comfort and safety of your routine. You take risks.

My risks included a last-minute decision to register for a writers retreat. During the five-day retreat spent with this small group of writers, I built relationships in a way I hadn’t done during more than 25 years of attendance at large writers conferences.

My second risk involved accepting a volunteer role with a writing organization. Again, the small leadership team afforded opportunities to build community.

Another risk came last year when I decided to create opportunities for writers to participate in community. Both the Words for Writers 31-Day Platform Challenge, coming October 1, 2022, and the Fiction Crafters Cohort, launching again on February 1, 2023, include teaching on the necessity of rest for writers and provide opportunities to connect with other writers.

Both rest and intentional relationships are disciplines—disciplines Jesus modeled. It seemed Jesus was never too busy to spend time in solitude with the Father or to break bread with others.

Those are examples I want to follow. You too?

Pray.

Take a risk.

And remember this truth for writers: Rest + Community = Increased Creativity.

If you’re looking for ways to connect with other writers, I frequently highlight opportunities in my newsletters. Maybe one of the opportunities I share will be the risk you’ll chose to take.

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My hands poised on the keyboard tingled with an odd neuropathy as words threatened to explode through my fingertips. I yanked my hands back. My knees hit the bottom of the desktop as I stood, rattling pens in a ceramic mug on the desk. The glare from the computer screen I’d stared at for too long in the dark room had nearly blinded me. Arms outstretched, I stumbled to the wall, felt for the switch, and flipped it. Although soft light flooded the room from the fixture above, darkness remained.

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So I quiet my mind, fingers on the keys, and I invite. I wait. And I hope. So that I might offer light…

 

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