Hello friends-
I’m writing this to you from the Tromsø library, which in my opinion is one of the loveliest places to work. That is of course when it isn’t wildly hot out (by northern standards at least), and the glorious windows don’t soak up all the hot sun rays. While writing this, it was hot and stuffy, the sun glaring through the wall of glass. Not much air conditioning in these parts, which makes it similar to back at home in the Pacific Northwest. Although the last time I walked into my local library on a hot day, the air conditioning was cranked up so high everyone was wearing long sleeved shirts.
I digress. You all know that it’s August and it’s warm out.
You also may know that the newsletter is on Official Summer Newsletter Time. I’m actually not entirely sure what this means, but mostly I wanted to give myself a little bit of a break.
But it felt so strange to not send you a little weekend missive!
You know what creative missives we really need this time of year? Ones that don’t require us to be on our computers or our phones.
While in Sweden, I picked up a book by psychiatrist Anders Hansen (in Swedish it’s called Skärmhjärnan, which directly translates to “The Screen Brain”). I think we all know how bad screens are for us, but sometimes when you read books like this, you are reminded on a whole new level how wild (and new) this digital and connected world really is for our brains. How maladapted we are to it.
I keep thinking about what that means for those of us who like to write, those of us who send newsletters into the world, those of us whose livelihoods are defined by the screen. There’s a lot to think about there and those are thoughts that need more time to marinate. Consider that seed planted for later.
In the meantime, there are a lot of new readers here, and while I’d love to point you in the direction of some of my favorite essays from last summer that I feel are just as fitting this year (like this one which is all about the space in between), I’m actually hoping that after you read this you’ll get off the screen and go do something else instead.
I know, I know. Most of us require a screen for work, or to consult for a whole variety of things. It seems harder and harder to live without a digital device these days. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t work at it. In fact, there’s a very good argument to be made that those of us who do spend our working hours on a screen really need to figure out a better relationship to it.
Even in the moments that we don’t need them, our devices have an impact. The mere presence of a smartphone in the same room, even if it’s on silent mode, causes “brain drain.” A good reason to go find a different room to put it in.
We all know how this digital game works. We go to send a text on the smartphone, or we go to work on a project, and all of a sudden we are many clicks away from where we started. We begin to write a paragraph and all of a sudden find ourselves Googling random facts about harbor seals (been there).
This has particularly been on my mind as of late, as I search my way through the real world for anecdotes that relate to my book project. Instead of typing a search query to quickly find an answer, I keep an eye out for what’s around me, pay attention to what I read in books and magazines, keep the receptivity sensors nice and alert. I wait for things to present themselves, always thinking of that Oblique Strategies card, “once the search is in progress, something will be found.” That research process isn’t defined by small spurts and quick hits, it’s shaped by more expansive thinking, allowing ideas to form through attention and a little serendipity.
I keep wondering: what does it mean to write something without having to go and look something up? Can questions remain unanswered for just a little longer than usual? What happens when you let something just be for a while?
Which has me coming back to the month of August. The often hot and stuffy month where leisure days are dwindling, but our brains aren’t quite ready to be back at it in full force. The time when we can’t let summer go quite yet but long gone is the beautiful promise of May and June. If August was a piece of clothing, it would be a little scratchy, a little too small. Something we can still wear but that we’re not quite comfortable in any more.
What do we do with this time? I guess we let it be whatever it needs to be.
“I feel like a time traveler:
June, July, August.
Summer dissolves in my mouth
and I can’t remember what it tasted like.”
―Zoë Lianne
Allow the real world to distract you. Go for a walk. Make a drawing. Look at a flower and make a color palette. Drink iced coffee. Go to the library. Write a letter. Move your body. Find a feather. Fold a zine. Stuff a paperback in your bag for those in-between moments when you want to scroll. Stare at the late summer shadows on the ground. Ask a question in the morning and see what answers you find in the day. Have a conversation. Watch the clouds.
Essentially anything that frees you from the screen, even for a little bit.
I figured it was worth ending all of this on a favorite Tove Jansson quote of mine. I share it every year in August, because I think it so very well captures this particular moment in the summer season.
“I love borders. August is the border between summer and autumn; it is the most beautiful month I know. Twilight is the border between day and night, and the shore is the border between sea and land. The border is longing: when both have fallen in love but still haven't said anything. The border is to be on the way. It is the way that is the most important thing.”
-Tove Jansson
Whatever August holds for you, we need this time in between.
We need off time.
We need thinking time.
We need slower time.
We need bored time.
We need mind wandering time.
We need time without the doing.
That time isn’t just a pause, or a break, it is also the way onto whatever lies ahead.
And that, as Jansson says, is the most important thing.
-Anna
Upcoming Creative Fuel Workshops + Events
No live Create+Engage session in August but for this whole month you can catch up on previous workshops. I mean, I know I said get off the screen, but if you really felt like being on a screen this would be a good use of time. And if you want to plan ahead you can sign up for our October session on October 16th. Trust us: you’re going to need this creative energy right before the election.
The Fall 2024 session of DIVE writing group still has some spots available. Gather together with facilitator
and other likeminded souls and make fall a season of writing. I know I know, it feels far away, but think of it like an early present to yourself. More info + sign up.
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I am reading The Summer Book right now, I love random connections.
Thank you Anna for this beautiful reminder. This part particularly resonated with me — "Can questions remain unanswered for just a little longer than usual?"