Editing the truth

I've been thinking a lot about editing lately. Probably as the result of the recent publishing conference I attended. And because I have been an editor and experienced bad editors – those who wish to replace the writer's voice with their own. I like to think of myself as a gentle editor with others, preserving the voice and only helping to let it shine more clearly. In a sense, I guess it was some of my early nurture work.

But what's really been on my heart was the young woman who argued in a workshop that she felt the poetry from her journal did not need editing and the room overwhelmingly said it always needs editing. I leaned over and whispered to her: "Don't listen."

We had a brief conversation after as I had wanted to raise the same issue, but was not so bold. Maybe because it didn't feel safe. When this young woman, on the first full day of the conference, asked someone where they felt something in their body, I knew we were heart people, not heads. Another time she talked of the importance of embodiment.

At the open-mic session, she did read and what she had written was so very clearly from her heart and not in need of any change, just another heart to listen.

After this conference, I am struggling with the book(s) I want to publish as they include some of my journal entries, which I feel were written from my heart in the moment and, often, wisdom from the Source (God, Spirit ... whatever word speaks to you). When I re-read them, I have no urge to mess with them. The introduction and explanatory sections I have edited many times, but not the journal entries. They come from somewhere bigger than myself and arrived when I was in a very still and prayerful place. I'm sure they won't speak to everyone and maybe not many. But that isn't the point. Trusting in what feels like a gift is – to me.

Several new books announced or previewed at this conference were the journals of Quakers no longer with us. And, I can't imagine the actual journal entries of someone like Elias Hicks, for instance, being changed today. Maybe footnoted or explanation added, but not altered. I could be wrong.

So why is there another standard for those now journaling? I am not talking about event recording, but soul discovery and writing our hearts.

When we edit our hearts, we stray farther from the truth.

• What happens when I don't edit myself?
• ... When I trust my openness and truth that arise?
• What glimpses has that trust provided?
• What have I lost when I didn't trust?
• How do I "put it out there" even in the face of misunderstanding?


It was a
pearl

buried
so very
deeply

that I
had no
idea of
its
existence

An initial
irritation
that,
over time,
transformed

It took
dark,
subterranean,
trusting
excavation

to arrive
at the
treasure

Digging
that I
did not,
could not,
do alone

It's not
the shiny,
white
perfect
pearl

but it is
a gem

So, how
do I
share it
with others?

Where my desire meets the world's need

I had a flash today. A very vivid and chilling flash.

It's no secret that I have been working on a book of words and images, culled from my journals over the last ten years. It's what makes my heart sing and where God calls me.

The one has spilled into two volumes of prose, poetry and paintings as I stumble through life authentically seeking my way. I know it has power.

Well, mostly. Occassionally that nasty critic kicks in and I lose sight momentarily.

The manuscripts are completed and cleanly edited (enough to begin sharing if my perfectionist side will relax). I am still working on matching paintings, filling glaring holes and fitting them with the text. I have titles and a vision for covers. That they will be separate small paperbacks, but one hardbound set encased in a beautifully covered box. Maybe even a high-art set I create in limited number and sign.

Last week, I began to research the publishing world as I am uncertain about whether to self publish (hum ... use my design and marketing skills ... although it's always easier to promote someone else) or begin soliciting some of the big guys. There's also on demand and a bazillion options, which is good, but daunting.

As a part of that exploration, I visited Barnes and Noble to see what new titles are out there, which publishers may be prime targets and where my book(s) may fit. I even noted specific editors of periodicals that seemed similar in tone to mine (the old reporter at work).

I found absolutely nothing like what I am creating. And that was affirming, which is not the reaction I might have expected. Sitting across from a section of books where I could see mine resting, I opened my canvas satchel and gingerly pulled out the green and orange school folders holding my words, my heart, my wisdom, my life.

A bolt of energy sizzled through me and a flash of knowledge that these volumes – my work – belong here. There is a place for it ... the place where my deep desire meets the world's great need.* And that is the place for which I have been mightily and wearily searching.

*Paraphrase of my favorite Frederick Beuchner quote that vocation is "the place where your deep gladness meets the world's deep need."

• What drives the creative life?

• My creative life?

• Am I ready to share myself with the world?

• How will the world respond?

• How will I?

• Can I keep God in my pocket as I make this journey?

The day I searched Barnes and

Noble's shelves for a

book like mine.

The day I opened my messy

manuscripts in orange and

green school folders in

the spiritualty and religion section

of the book store.

Then, I was certain not

only did my book have

a place here, but there

is a real need for

my words, my heart,

my experience.

This is where my deep desire

meets the world's great need.

Thank you!