Writing can be tough, right?
I’ve been there, too.
I used to think of writing as a struggle.
I’d wrestle to get my thoughts on paper. I’d fight with my inner critic. I’d beat myself up.
Come on! Get that first draft done! Don’t be a sissy!!!
But that has changed.
Shall I explain?
How to get in the right headspace
I realized how much my approach to writing has changed when I read Anna Fleming’s book Time on Rock.
Yes, that’s a book about rock climbing. But I found some of the similarities between rock climbing and writing uncanny.
Fleming describes how doubts and ambition fight for her attention:
The ego wanted me to perform well; it also wanted me to stay safe. Climbs could be torturous. An internal chatter of self-doubt might set in (Should I do this move? Can I do this climb? What if I can’t?) Reaching a hard move, I became embroiled in a battle between performance and self-preservation. In these circumstances I backed off many climbs, self-esteem in tatters.
I’ve rarely abandoned a piece of writing.
But in the past, first drafts, second drafts, and even third drafts often felt so bad that I didn’t think I could turn them into decent writing.
It took a lot of energy to push aside those doubts so I could edit my work.
Sound familiar?
A more Zen approach
Fleming used to think she’d had to beat fear and doubt into submission.
But she learned a more Zen approach:
We conceptualised this Zen state by contrasting two famous climbers: Adam Ondra and Chris Sharma. Ondra is an expressive climber who screams, grunts and shouts under pressure. Sharma is the archetypal stoner dude who describes climbs in gentle mellifluent tones. Ondra became our battle-cry mindset; Sharma was our Zen master. At Luke’s prompting, I tried to be Sharma: cool, collected and at one with the rock. ‘Love the rock, don’t smash the rock,’ became our mantra, playfully voiced in American stoner drawl.
With practice, she finds a way to be calmer and more meditative on the rock:
When the rock ceased to be a dangerous antagonist, climbing was no longer a battle; it was an encounter.
When I started writing, my ego felt quite precious, too. Was my writing good enough? How did I compare to others? How many comments would I get? Would my guest posts end up in annual overviews?
Over time, my ego softened. Writing has become about turning up and being here in conversation with you. It’s also a conversation with myself, figuring out what matters to me, what I’m thinking.
Writing has become more playful, more joyful. The difficulties of writing are still there, but that’s okay. I trust my process, and the challenges don’t frustrate me anymore.
Writing is what it is. Sometimes hard, mostly joyful. The words will come when they come—as long as I’m attentive and patient.
How confidence grows
After a relationship break-up, Fleming finds herself grieving. It brings her a new openness and a greater focus on climbing:
My motivation was stripped back. I did not expect to enjoy myself. I was not there to prove anything. That summer, I sought total immersion. In the vertical space between the ground and the top of the route, everything else fell away. I sank into the rock. Through this changed approach, something crystallised. I began to lead-climb with greater confidence.
When the ego softens, confidence grows. I’ve noticed that, too.
Confidence doesn’t come from fighting. Confidence comes from letting go and learning to be.
When I started writing, I was worried about what you might think of my writing and of me. I wanted to be safe. I preferred hiding myself.
And now?
You may think this is a weird post but that doesn’t worry me anymore.
I want to learn and I want to share what I’m learning with you.
Practice feeds intuition
Fleming writes how practice and competence lead to a more relaxed awareness:
[…] climbing is not just about the hands. The work invites a fluidity across the body—drawing many nerves and senses, muscles and limbs into play. On the rock, at some level, a climber is conscious at all times of where everything is, keeping tabs on the peripheries, noting which piece of matter each part of the body is leaning, resting, pulling or pushing against. Where once this intensity of body-knowledge was all-consuming and overwhelming, through practise and growing competence, I have learned to relax into this mode of awareness and have come to discover that this approach brings a distinctive understanding of place and self.
Just like climbing, writing is multi-faceted.
We think about the big picture and structure of our writing. We step into the shoes of our readers and consider how they may interpret our words. We consider grammar, and rhythm, and word choice. The more we practice, the more intuitive that process becomes.
I’m far from perfect. There are still days when my doubts rule over me.
But mostly, I let go and trust that the words will turn up, that I’ll see how to improve a piece, that I’ll learn what it really is that I want to say. I just have to keep working at it.
A way of looking
Fleming comes to see rock climbing as “an artistic practice—a way of looking, questioning and opening up the world.”
Writing is so similar—a way of listening, of paying attention, of questioning and opening up, too.
It’s a way of being.
How lucky I am to have undertaken this journey, to have learned how to write, to have found my voice, to have found a way to be more Zen—in writing and in life.
And how lucky I am that you found me here, too.
Thank you for reading.
Recommended reading on Zen writing:
How I made peace with my inner critic
How to get into your writing zone
How to find inner peace in 3 steps
Thank you again Henneke, for your words and those of your readers. It’s a pleasure reading both.
Best to All.
I agree with you. The words of readers here add so much value. I’m sending thanks to all of them including you!
This is interesting stuff. My favorite poet famously wrote, “don’t try.” By which he means exactly what you are getting at here. He doesn’t mean don’t do the work but rather when you let go of your ego-concerns you can get in the zone.
Thanks for the article.
I like that idea of “don’t try.” It’s so counter-intuitive. By not trying you can do your best work. Thanks for adding that, Alex. I appreciate it.
Beautiful. I paused several times to savor some of the realizations you included, that were written with such flow. The quotes were wonderful too. You helped me see the connection between rock-climbing and writing.
Thank you so much, Milli. I’m glad you enjoyed this. It feels to me that when we understand this connection between rock-climbing and writing, then we understand something about being human.
Henneke,
“… a weird post …” Not at all. A necessary post. I appreciate your practice of involving other disciplines in the writing process. For me it demonstrates how inclusive and helpful “cross training” can be. Thank you.
Yes, I truly believe that. The issues I encounter with writing usually pop up in other parts of my life, too.
Henneke,
Thank you for this lovely piece about getting in Zen with writing. Your posts, and the thoughtful comments by your readers, are part of my support system. My curiosity peaked about the climbing book you mentioned, so I ventured to sample the opening paragraphs of it online. When I came to unfamiliar vocab, I searched the word “flaked” with “rope” which offered a lovely video about flaking and coiling a climbing rope. (message me for the link). It described the care of the rope, a life-saving climbing tool, and I compared that to my taking care of the spaces and tools I use for writing. There is great value in obtaining the best tools and environment possible for a task. It makes the activity more of a pleasure than drudgery. Sometimes when I can put myself in a clean and simple comfortable space with my best pen and paper, or my laptop, words and stories flow more easily. Supportive self-talk is also a tool that helps me gain pleasure in writing.
What a lovely metaphor! Thank you so much for sharing, Kit.
I also love the comment section on this blog (not just this post). Comments often make me think more deeply or help me look at issues from a different perspective or they simply encourage me to keep going.
“When the ego softens, confidence grows.” This touched me. Over the past few months, I’ve been trying to live with child-like wonder and just be. I’m 43 and I used to chide myself for not hitting certain milestones. well, you can imagine how my life was. Thankfully I’ve realized there’s no perfection, only the willingness to be better in each moment. thanks for sharing your stories and thanks for reading mine. 😀
Thank you so much for sharing your story, Halima. I like what you’re saying about trying to live with child-like wonder.
Halima, Thank you for calling out that quote which touched me as well. Your comment is spot on, in line with my feelings. I am 67 and still working to rid myself of a perfectionism habit. My meditation practice is helping me soften my ego. It’s a steep cliff to navigate.
Not a weird post at all! I’m a yogi, so I love these kinds of articles 😉 Beautifully put and 100% agree. Writing from a zen place feels like life is just whispering its words through your hand. It’s the best.
It’s the old me who would have found this weird, who wouldn’t have understood writing from a zen place. I always thought I had to toughen up. But it’s much better to be more zen and it makes writing more joyful.
Anything that helps us peel back a layer and get to the core of what we are thinking and feeling is a plus.
Great points, Henneke.
Yes, so true. Well put.
Henneke, you are so kind. It comes through in your words and tone. The tone of your sincere cognizant of helping your readers. We appreciate it.
Just write to find your own voice and let it be your way of being. Got it!
Thank you, Donna. What a lovely comment. Somehow, writing brings out my kindest self. I don’t know exactly how that works but I feel it quite strongly.
I love how you connected the inner struggles of rock climbing to writing. Ultimately, a more zen-like approach emerges, lessening the struggles and increasing the joy of work. This thought process can be applied to so many areas of life. Great read, as always. Thank you!
Yes, I think that’s right. This can apply to so many other areas in life. It’s just happened that I read a good book about rock climbing, and that I blog about writing.
Thank you for stopping by, Michael. I appreciate it.
So often in your posts I feel you’re having a conversation with just me, no one else. The feeling so real this morning I was about to pour you a cup of coffee!
Well done as always. You’re an inspiration, Henneke. You’re a wise and important voice in our noisy world.
I wrote it for you, Michael. And a cup of tea would be lovely. I come from a nation of coffee drinkers but somehow I’ve never grown up enough. I’ve always stuck to tea.
Always nice to drink a cuppa together!
I think the universe has sent me two messages today, Henneke. I struggle with information overload and analysis paralysis. My creativity, writing skills, ideas are all somehow staplered to my self-worth. And thus one thing I was suffering from was thinking using my head alone and ending up being overhwlemed in the process. I would shun away using pen and paper to write thought the questions that emerge from my content research. According to me penning down my thoughts would mean that I am not a good enough thinker who can digest and metabolize ideas within my brain and come up with cool, new copy.
I have struggled with this for several years now. Today I came across a post where I saw a napkin which had the plot of Inception written upon it by Christopher Nolan himself.
This has provided me with a lot inspiration. If someone like the great Nolan himself needs a pen and napkin to map out his thoughts, then who am I to fall back on my ego to dictate how I should do things.
And now, I read these lines and I am overwhlemed by your humility. “You may think this is a weird post but that doesn’t worry me anymore. I want to learn and I want to share what I’m learning with you. ”
Now I will also let loose of my critic and listen the curious voice that’s always willing to learn. I will not listen to that voice that always tries to impress but heed to the voice that always motivates me to write so that I can express and educate people.
Thanks again, Henneke, for being vulnerable.
Thanks so much for stopping by to share your story, Naveen. I appreciate it.
When I get stuck, I often use pen and paper to jot down some ideas. And the other thing that helps is just going out for a walk. Other people like talking out a problem with a friend. We really don’t need to work it all out in our minds.
And yes, you got it. The curious voice is a good one to follow.
Love this as I sit down to write some marketing copy I’ve been dreading.
I know the feeling. Take it step by step, and keep breathing. <3
This:
“I want to learn and I want to share what I’m learning with you.”
Hi Henneke…
Sending love and good wishes your way… 🩵
Writing is like rock climbing… always an uphill battle, but can be fun and exhilarating too. Practice takes you higher and helps you breathe easier as you improve.
You’re never done climbing because you continue to crave going higher, knowing it gets better and better…
Thank you, as always,
Sue-Ann
Yes, yes, yes, you can always climb higher. That’s the fun of it.
And please don’t forget to admire the view sometimes!
Thanks so much for stopping by, Sue-Ann.
Your book recommendations are always so inspiring and I bought the book immediately after reading your post. (Even though I’m afraid of heights, or maybe just because of that) But also your way of using metaphors, makes your storytelling unique and fascinating. Never stop your blog. Pär
Awww, thank you so much, Pär. I’m also not good with heights and I don’t think I’ll ever take up rock climbing but I loved this book. I hope you’ll enjoy it, too.
A new guidepost for me:
A miniscule percentage of humans could make such a compelling alignment of rock climbing to writing.
In what arenas of my life (not a writer) can I rearrange with this perspective?
Thank you.
I think you can apply the ideas to any skills you want to develop whether it’s sports, making music, learning to draw or any other creative skill.
Magnificent as always Henneke ✌️
Thank you, Paul. Very much inspired by Anna Fleming. I highly recommend her book!