Drawing Down the Sun

Sometimes unexpected things happen, like, for example, a key appliance in your household develops an alarming smell of burning plastic. You could complain loudly, and I recommend that, but then you have to move on to Stage 2, which is Doing Something About It. Stage 2.1 involves making a list of options. I like lists; they give you the illusion of progress.

A tolerable gas tumble dryer costs about what I earn from a booklength project. Instead of buying one, I decided to implement Holmgren’s Principles 5, 6, and 12 and hang my washing out on a clothesline in the sun and wind, which are both free and plentiful around here until late October. This is my first point, that sometimes the easiest and cheapest course of action is worth consideration, at least temporarily.

The second point is this, and it can be extrapolated to your writing process. Hanging laundry on a line is a meditative exercise. There’s sorting, and manual dexterity, and plenty of space and time for your mind to turn over other things. This is a new alternative to sitting in front of a screen getting stressed out, selecting long passages and then pressing delete, or just thinking about how you have no idea what you want to say. Another physical activity, another setting, can jar your mind out of the daily neural rat maze and show you a new solution, and how great is it if that new activity is generated by serendipitous failure?

So, yes, in fact, I am using solar and wind energy to dry my clothes and help me organize my thoughts. (My dryer could only do one of those things.) Harness change and put it to work instead of fighting against it. Got writer’s block? Do something else, preferably something you have to do anyway.