Facing the fears and blurts

I reread the essay from Chapter 1 of The Artist's Way called Your Ally Within: Affirmative Weapons. You may be familiar with this work, where you write "I, (your name), am a brilliant and prolific artist" ten times in a row.

Then you list down the blurts that the inner censor brings up. You also do some detective work to see who in your past planted that specific negative thought into your belief system.

And then you proceed to dismantle it by converting the blurt into an affirmation, and using it as a ready weapon, so that any time the negative thoughts haunt again, we focus on the affirmations instead. (I did the exercise up to listing the negative blurts and detecting the culprit responsible for implanting these notions into my inner censor.)

In Patsy Rodenburg's book, "The Second Circle", she describes an exercise called Facing the Fear. You lie on your back with your legs propped up on a facing chair. The chair should be at the right height to comfortably support your calf muscles, so that your thighs can stay unclamped. Put a thin cushion under your head.

This position frees the breath to go deep and low in the body, and allows some unacknowledged emotions to be freed. You may cry, or laugh as the emotion is allowed expression.

Breathing deeply, you speak your fears with a clear voice. "I am frightened of..."

I did Patsy's exercise with the blurts, just openly speaking them into the air. I felt vulnerable, but strangely supported. I kept on with the exercise for as long as I needed. And soon, affirmations came to mind as I continued to breathe deeply, dismantling and nullifying the negative blurts.

When I was ready, I slowly got up and wrote these affirmations into my notebook. What a release to deal with fears this way.

Thank you for listening.

Every day preparation tools #1: Morning pages

I want to start a series talking about some preparatory exercises that I aim to do every day that help my acting. Notice that I say I aim to do them daily. I don't. To do them daily and regularly is my ideal. If I fail to do them, I feel bad, out of place, but I've learnt not to berate myself when I fail to do my morning pages. As Natalie Goldberg sagely said, "No one lives to her full potential."

Julia Cameron talks about her version of the morning pages here. For her, it's three pages, stream-of-consciousness, first thing in the morning. Then the next morning, write another three. No one is supposed to read your pages. They are supposed to be a psychological safe place for you to write freely about anything and everything going through your head as soon as you wake up. Your complaints about your boss, your worries about your spouse or child, your joy at life's surprises, everything has a place within the space of three pages.

Do the morning pages whether you feel like it or not, whether you think they're working for you or not, whether you love them or not. Just get up, reach for your pen and notebook, and write. Write on bond paper size (8 1/2 by 11) or a large notebook. Wake up earlier if you have to, or else you'll have to catch up and write during lunch hour or on the commute. But first thing in the morning is best.

Do not reread your morning pages, at least for two months. Try this exercise. I'll continue to write more about the morning pages on succeeding posts.