Landing Gear
Megan planted herself in front of our yoga class, strong and tall as a Sequoia. “Come into Tree Pose with me,” she said.
I tried to follow the teacher’s example, but my own body trembled and swayed like a Florida palm bowing to a hurricane.
Amusement played in the corners of Megan’s mouth. She offered me some gentle guidance: “It’s difficult to find your way into the pose when your mind is focused on your internal chatter.”
I finally found my way into Tree Pose last Tuesday. I stood graceful and silent for a long while: mind, body, and spirit were one. Pure, unadulterated happiness. But when the teacher told us to release the asana, I was faced with yet another challenge. My arms flailed, and my legs buckled. I’d knocked myself off-balance again.
Megan’s voice was soothing, compassionate. Her eyes twinkled, and a smile danced in the corners of her mouth. “You’re always flying,” she said. “I invite you to work on your landing skills.”
I wrote another chapter last week (rough but complete). And then I realized my chapter summaries didn’t provide enough detail to guide me through the rest of the book to The End.
My confidence wobbled. I flailed and lost my footing.
But! I refocused and breathed my way through it.
First, I copy/pasted all my chapter summaries into a new document, and then I separated them with page breaks. Next, I added scenes and stubs to each chapter. Some, I’d already written; others came to me as I worked. I also added layers and texture. I’ve created a 78-page document (whoa, baby!) that is going to serve as my new-and-improved outline. Pure, unadulterated happiness.
I gotta be honest: It’s a hot mess. Many of the snippets are disorganized within their chapters. I’ve already noticed a couple of plot potholes, and the scene stubs are pea-gravel rough. But I now have a much better flight plan, and I can see the lights on the landing strip ahead. I know where I’m going, and I’m excited because I know I can get there.
Image credit: BuderimYoga and DancingTreeYoga