On Writing A Book

About a year and a half ago, for some unknown reason, I decided I wanted to write another book. I spent several months wondering and dreaming what it should be about. What do I have to say that might be both valuable to others and be attractive enough to a publisher to want to put it into print? I did a bunch of writing and reflecting but nothing emerged clearly enough to find a way forward.

Then the pandemic came last March and we were all forced to shelter in place. Part of my immediate response was to begin to write these daily reflections. I think I wanted both to clarify my myriad feelings and perceptions as we moved into this unprecedented territory and to offer support to others meeting the same challenges.

I had begun this style of daily writing about fifteen years ago when I began to take writing seriously. At first it was just for me, then I began posting occasionally on a blog. These posts led to a few magazine articles and eventually to a book proposal that was accepted by Wisdom Publications in 2009.

The book was supposed to be about Zen and Life Coaching – about their paradoxical overlap as seen through the three-step process of attention, intention and action. (Notice where you are, remember your purpose and take the next step.) I had a detailed outline that followed logically through the three areas and had even chosen anecdotes to illustrate various aspects. I took a three-month sabbatical from my coaching practice to write the book with very little to show for it. For more than a year, I continued to do my best to write the book I had promised. I wrote countless drafts and revisions of chapters, but it never came to life and it always felt like hard work to me.

Meanwhile, I was writing these daily, more personal and poetic (I hope) reflections of the various real experiences of my life and how the teachings of Zen and coaching are applicable in real time. I eventually realized that this smaller format that begins with my actual experience rather than some generalized theory felt much more alive and useful to me. I eventually convinced Wisdom to publish a collection of these pieces as THIS TRUTH NEVER FAILS: A ZEN MEMOIR IN FOUR SEASONS.

I still have many inspiring theories and wonderful schema to explain how life works, but when I elaborate them too far, they all fall flat. A friend of mine used to talk about the ‘shelf-life’ of inspiration. You’ll read a fantastic quote or find a new rhythm of exercise or a new diet and for several day or weeks everything will be clear and bright. But eventually, every new program or perspective wears out and becomes just another technique.

Life is much more complicated than a simple three-step or twelve-step or even 108-step process. Not that these frameworks aren’t helpful and necessary for navigating the territory of being human, it’s just that they can easily hide the wildness and unpredictability that is at the heart of our human experience.

Most non-fiction, self-help, spiritual-inspiration books I read have enough content for about twenty pages. Successful authors keep it simple and repeat their main point over and over. I am congenitally unable to write (or read the entirety) of a book like that. I want more surprise and variation. I want play and different perspectives. I want something that doesn’t claim or attempt to be complete.

Life is not sequential, reasonable or ultimately workable. We can grow in love and understanding, but we cannot outgrow our limited and mortal nature. Our vision will always be partial and our solutions only temporary. The good news is that this is not a problem, but rather simply the invitation into the provisional ongoing dance of life.

So I am realizing again, that my new book has to come from these shorter bits of reflection/life. I’m a little overwhelmed by how much I have generated over the past year, but am recommitting to finding/creating a new book from the richness of all that has come through me.

This morning, I feel a special gratitude to my regular and occasional readers who have been my appreciative audience this past year. Likes on Facebook and short messages of gratitude and acknowledgement have been crucial to my capacity to sustain this exploration and sharing.

A deep bow to so many.