The Universe Speaks to Me through Peloton
Writers need to be open to the signs, wherever they may come from.
I was in the middle of a 20-minute on-demand bodyweight core workout taught by my fave Peloton instructor Robin Arzon. I was doing the moves but I was distracted, fretting about the book project I’ve been futzing around with for over a year now. Instead of focusing on my planking, I was brainstorming about how to kickstart my writing.
I’ve tried organizing writer’s groups, but I’ve failed in keeping them organized. Zooms get canceled for all sorts of good reasons (which is inevitable) and then never get rescheduled (which is on me).
I’ve tried instituting a regular writing schedule, which is a joke because I’ve never been able to stick to a regular anything schedule my whole life. Most of my blogs are written at random, on the fly, in bits and pieces. I handle household chores, dog walking, and workouts in the same disorganized way. How could my book project be any different?
So there I was, working through these myriad mental barriers while working my core muscles.
Then Robin asked a seemingly random question:
“Are you working on something big? Something big that’s important to you?”
I’m pretty sure we were in the middle of crunches, and she definitely got my attention. I wanted to sit up and respond:
Why yes, Robin, as a matter of fact, I am working on something big that’s important to me. Do go on.
Right on cue, she said:
“This is what you do: Put a deadline on it. You know why?”
Oh, I was listening. Why, Robin? I need to know.
She declared, with emphasis on every noun: “Because a dream without a deadline is a fantasy.”
I just about keeled over laughing.
A deadline, of course! Isn’t that how most things get done– because they have to?
Think about it:
An alarm rings, and it’s pencils down.
The clock hits the hour, and the submission portal is closed.
The due date comes, and if the assignment isn’t turned in, you get a zero.
I reflected on her perfectly and brutally frank suggestion:
Because a dream without a deadline is a fantasy.
Basically, by not establishing and respecting a timeline, I’ve been treating my big ideas like bullshit.
So now I’m working out deadlines for the complete outline and first 3 chapters of book #1.
Now, this is not the first time that I’ve gotten the exact right inspiration at the exact right moment through Peloton. Nor the second time. Nor the third…
Not that I really think they’re reading my mind. It’s more like the old gypsy fortune-teller trick:
They know their target audience really well and throw stuff out there that, statistically speaking, is likely to resonate with people. I get it.
But it doesn’t really matter.
After all, gypsy fortune tellers, 1–900 psychics, and online mediums may all be charlatans who possess no special connection to unseen realms, but if they can help us connect with ourselves and realize our own inner truths, then they may as well have¹.
So, it’s not about Peloton (clickbait title notwithstanding). I definitely do not believe that the signs need to be coming from our favorite aphorism-pitching fitness instructor.
I do believe that it’s important to be open to the signs, wherever they may come from.
But there’s more.
Writing, like any creative process, requires more than being open to inspiration when it’s offered. (Though, that helps. Thanks, Robin.)
The creative process requires discovering the source of our inspiration, and learning how to tap into it.
And there is a source, whether we refer to it as The Muse, or The Force, or even “the grand universe of stories floating in ether, there, available to everyone”².
Rick Rubin, creative guru to musicians as diverse as Adele, Metallica, and Johnny Cash, gazillion-time Grammy-award-winning music producer and one of Time’s 100 most influential people on the planet, refers to the source as literally, “Source”.
Rubin describes how to access Source in his groundbreaking book, The Creative Act:
“How do we pick up on a signal that can neither be heard nor be defined? The answer is not to look for it. Nor do we attempt to predict or analyze our way into it. Instead, we create an open space that allows it. A space so free of the normal overpacked condition of our minds that it functions as a vacuum. Drawing down the ideas that the universe is making available.”
Now, here is where I should describe what works for me, what’s my routine for creating that open space, drawing down the ideas that the universe is making available?
The truth is, I don’t yet have my own creative process down.
Morning dog walks and long outdoor runs help to clear my head. Opening a blank page in Google docs and forcing myself to just start typing allows idea to start flowing. But again, I have no set routine around writing. It’s catch as catch can. And clearly, that’s not enough.
I seek this information out from authors I admire. It seems to me that sustaining a real, productive writing routine is hard, and rare. But prove me wrong, please! I’m eager to hear from other writers about what works for them.
More on the creative process to come. In the meantime, I have a deadline to meet.
*******
- If that statement resonates with you, please know that I’m paraphrasing Higgins from Ted Lasso, Season 3, Episode 5, Signs
- A quote from author Abraham Verghese, as written in his forward for the Yale Department of Internal Medicine Writer’s Workshop Essay Collection, 2003/2004.
A version of this essay was first published on my own blog at www.DrMoniqueTello.com
