TO WRITE: A Farewell
I'm reading Natalie Goldberg's new book on memoir writing, Old Friend from Far Away. (If you've been reading long, you know I'm a big fan.) As in many of her books, she offers lots of writing topics and ideas, and this one's from her today, with my paraphrasing.

Write a goodbye letter to someone. It could be after a divorce, when a friend moves across the globe or a relative dies. Tell them every last thing you have to say -- this is your last opportunity. You may have complaints, praises, specific awful incidents or glowing memories to share. Get it all out. As Natalie almost always adds: "Ten minutes. Go."

Then (and this is Beth again), consider how you feel. Stirred up, relieved, sad, glad, depressed, lighter? Are there other people, leaving or not, that you'd like to write to? Letters, of all different kinds, can be a powerful way of releasing pent up emotions and ideas. Let yourself go when you write them -- you can decide later whether to rip them up, burn them or send them.

TO WRITE: Darkness and Light
In English, we use the words "dark" and "light" to describe a myriad of things, including paint on the walls, lamps, our thoughts, and our moods. But have you ever considered the concept more broadly?

For visual artists, the degree of light in a work is often a key aspect of the piece as a whole. Should the landscape painting feature a sunrise or be under ominous cloud bank? What do the shades of color in an abstract work indicate? What mood is implied by the shadows of a portrait?

In one of my favorite writing books, Wild Mind, author Natalie Goldberg discusses with a friend how everything can have these attributes, including watermelon (light, they conclude), friendship (very dark and scary), Minnesota (real dark), and death (light and dark). "As we talked more, dark transformed," she writes. "Dark became good and bad. It became energetic, fertile, less scary, more desirable."

Play with this...
Write continuously for 20 minutes, starting simply with the topic of "darkness and light," and see where it takes you. Really let your mind go, beyond the traditional categories we tend to use. What do the concepts mean to you, how do you apply them, and how could you think about them differently? And is friendship or watermelon dark or light for you?

Then read what you've written. What ideas or words are the most exciting to you? Start with one of those and write 20 more minutes, going deeper into your mind. Afterward, consider carefully how this kind of writing feels to you. Were you surprised where you writing went? Did it begin to flow automatically, without effort? And -- how did this feel to you emotionally? Whatever you find, keep what you've learned in mind when you write in the future.

TO WRITE: What We See and What We Don't
Many writers claim that observation is what their work is really all about. Author and writing teacher Natalie Goldberg says, "Writing is 90% listening."

But it's not just the writer surreptitiously monitoring the lovers at the next restaurant table for plot ideas and dialog. In fact, every human needs to observe his life and the world around him and try to fit the two together. Observing and reflecting are key, whether it's deciding when it's safe to step off a curb, or determining when to change careers. For people living with depression, observing the situations that make us feel worse or better, and the reactions we have to those stimuli, can be a powerful tool. We can use this technique both in the present and in retrospect.

Play with this...
Write continuously for 20 minutes, starting with the following prompt, and see what you discover.
Looking back, it was obvious...