TO WRITE: Things Worth Saving
Why do we all get attached to particular physical objects? Whether it's an expensive car or a smooth stone in your pocket, nearly all of us feel a connection with certain items. Some of us even have trouble not "glomming on" to everything that comes our way.

With firestorm season beginning in California (not to mention the ever present threat of an earthquake in these parts), I wonder just what I'd save from my home if only given a couple of minutes. And how would that list expand if I had more warning?

After playing that mental exercise, I wonder how those priorities affect the way I look at my possessions in general. For example, why is it so hard to be ruthless when cleaning out a closet or drawer of old things that I don't use or care about, but which might be useful "someday"?

Play with this. . .
Writing quickly, jot down the items you'd save if you only had a few moments to get out of your home. (Assume that all people and pets are already safe.) Then enlarge your list to what you'd take if you had a couple of hours to pack. Next, write continuously for 10 minutes about what these lists tell you about how you live day-to-day and what you might like to adjust... Could properly backing up your computer leave you calmer? If you really treasure those old family photos, would you enjoy framing and hanging a few? If you discover that a certain book of poetry is very dear to you, do you want to make it a habit to read a page before bed each night?

I realized that I could give old t-shirts I haven't worn for years to Goodwill and that I'd love the empty space they left on the shelf. I also discovered that some of the meaningful greeting cards I've received and saved over the years would look great on my bulletin board and remind me of their kind words. Some things really are worth saving.

TO WRITE: Making Lists

Keeping a to-do list usually gives me a sense of comfort and efficiency; I know I'm probably not forgetting anything and I can prioritize my tasks and work my way through them. Plus it's a great feeling to check items off as I accomplish them.


But I've found many other uses for lists too, including in my writing and teaching. Lists are a wonderful way to get your mind to open up and search for possibilities that it hadn't noticed before, including writing topics. For example:

• I sometimes ask students to write on a particular color (say, purple). If you don't know where to begin with such an assignment, try making a quick (don't overthink this!) list of things that are that color (lilacs, bruises, a stripe in the rainbow, a few people's eyes). Then choose one item and begin your writing with that. You may find a story about the fragrant vines in your garden or a memory of a childhood injury comes to mind.

• When you want to approach a very large topic such as beauty or democracy or depression, jot down a list of related words first. For depression, I might come up with: medicines, loneliness, lack of joy, supportive friends, ECT, writing, sleep problems, work issues and more. Now begin with one of these listed topics. If the one that interests you right now is still very broad, you may need to repeat the process. The specific words and ideas you come up with in this way allow you to make your writing more meaningful for you and your reader, and they are a great way to start creating a lengthy piece.

Note that I've indicated that you should write your lists quickly. This is a time to really let your mind wander freely and brainstorm. If you're not sure why you thought of "jellybeans" when you looked for associations to "depression," put it down anyway and move on to the next item. After you've written your list for several minutes, you can look back at what this means; perhaps your sister brought you an Easter basket to cheer you one spring when you were low.

Play with this. . .
Here's an exercise from my book, Writing through the Darkness:
Quickly make a list of at least 25 things you're good at. They might range from kissing. . . to reading a map. . . to doing rocket science. Then choose one, large or small, and write for 20 minutes on that skill. Who taught it to you? What's the secret to it? Do you love doing it? How could someone else learn it?

TO WRITE: What do you believe in?
You probably believe in loads of things. . . that we need parity for mental health insurance; that our friends should understand that we have an illness, not a weakness; that fudge brownie ice cream is the best; maybe that there are monsters under the bed.

Here's your chance to convince me, or the reader of your choice, of those deep-seated feelings and ideas. Consider your spiritual beliefs, your political positions, your feelings about depression, your relationships, your activities, your basic wants and likes. Are there any old childhood beliefs that come to mind? Any places where you differ greatly from those around you?

To play with. . .
You can start by writing a list of 100 things you believe in (yes, that's 100), as suggested by Kathleen Adams in her book Journal to the Self. Or, if ideas are already flooding your mind, feel free to simply start writing about these beliefs. Don't get too cerebral - some of the statements that come up might be startling or feel contradictory, and this is fine. Just let yourself write passionately. Write continuously for 20 minutes and convince me of how you feel on these topics.

Then reread your writing. What do you find - any surprises in your list? Any surprises in how passionately your felt? And are there any ways you might use this information to make small or large changes in your life? Perhaps this exercise will help trigger a discussion with someone close to you, or help you make a life decision.