Welcome to the final blog of the The Ecology of Curiosity series, where we’ve been exploring how to become more curious and playful in the darkness, and even enjoy it. The unknown that we tend to run from becomes a path to grow capacity— which is both the seed and the canopy of creative process. Sometimes, in the darkest season and a distressing cyclone of world events, it can be hard to see past our immediate discomfort— let alone remember how expanding our capacity to sense the unknown is a crucial part of the creative process. In hindsight, of course, we can recognize that the unknown can ..read more

“Everything matters; slow down and pay attention and let the universe come to you like a shy, wild animal sniffing its way in circles towards you.” -Jean Rhode on Sense Writing Welcome to The Ecology of Curiosity #2. Many of us, when we were little, were afraid of the dark. A night light somehow kept us safe—protected in its circle of brightness from whatever unrecognizable wonders might be lurking on the periphery.  We might have gotten less scared as we’ve grown older, or maybe even embraced the idea that there might be something we want to know out there in the borders of our awarenes ..read more

Welcome to The Ecology of Curiosity series. In the next month, we’ll be exploring the generative— and essential— power of staying connected to all parts of ourselves. Even in the dark of winter. Wishing you a fulfilling and nurturing new year! Since the beginning of Sense Writing, I’ve often used botany and gardening metaphors. For me, they accurately convey both the simplicity and complexity of the creative process. When I created the 12-week Sense Writing course, I organized it around four parts: the Ground, Shoots + Roots, The Tree, and The Ecosystem—a framework or terrain— an ecology— tha ..read more

Just give me many chances I'll see you through it all Just give me time to learn to crawl. -Rickie Lee Jones In this Grounding Summer series, I’ve been talking about the radical wholeness of Sense Writing and how it differs from practices where grounding is merely a solution to a problem. And after several years of feeling compelled to respond to the external challenges of the pandemic, it may seem like I’m advocating turning away or avoiding the outside world in favor of internal focus. In fact, no matter how grounded we are, we are always responding to context. The skills taught in Sense Wr ..read more

In this series, I’ve been talking a lot about subversiveness. And when we're talking about subversiveness, it naturally raises the question: what are we subverting? In the last email, you had the chance to experience, in a Sense Writing sequence, how lying down on the floor subverts expectations of how we engage in our creative practice. Lying down on the floor—the literal act of becoming horizontal—pauses the forward momentum of our everyday narratives. Our body state changes. Patterns that normally keep us stuck are interrupted. Grounding and lying down on the floor can open pathways to cre ..read more

In this Grounding Summer series (welcome to #4), we explore grounding as an invaluable and subversive skill that helps us expand and deepen, both our senses and our stories. You can scroll to the gift sequence at the bottom to experience it for yourself.  In the last email, we went a little bit into the science of lying down. How getting on the floor and noticing how we’re making contact allows the parts of our body that are often associated with the fight and flight responses to release.  When they do, our body comes into a more regulated relationship with the ground beneath it, an ..read more

In the last blog, we discussed grounding as a journey.  But for this journey, you don’t need to pack or prepare at all.  Often, when we travel, we take on the role of tourist. We arrive with suitcases and expectations. Our surroundings feel unfamiliar and fresh. Some things become more vivid, and some get lost in the rush. And we often feel excited—more alive to the novel sensations around us and the thrill of learning and exploring.  The same goes with writing. In trying to connect with our creative landscape, we might feel buoyed by inspiration or momentum or the full steam o ..read more

We often think of the ground beneath our feet as fixed, while the world around us is loud and mobile: the clouds move, leaves rustle, cars and bikes and people swish past us. The practice of “grounding ourselves” is often similarly perceived as still—as an antidote to the chaotic flux in and all around us. Yet when we look a little closer, grounding is anything but still.  Imagine standing on the ground now, the soil under your feet. From your view, it might look like nothing is happening (which can frankly feel like a relief).  Now, imagine bending down and leaning in for a closer ..read more

In the last few weeks, I’ve talked about the “what if” gap that can stifle us. How in our urge to create, we find ourselves widening the gap between what we wish for and what is. How feelings of frustration, judgment, and inadequacy — or even hysterical laughter at the most embarrassing moments — can come rushing in to fill it. I’ve also shared a Sense Writing sequence inviting you to experience for yourself the worlds that can open up when you create from a place without that gap. But sometimes, it feels totally out of reach to change our default setting and focus on what’s already there, in ..read more

When I was twenty, I experienced a class would changing my thinking about learning. It was the last day of the semester in the philosophy of biology course, and the professor stood in front of the class, extolling the benefits of meditation. To the casual observer, meditation might not seem remotely related to plant morphology, but to Rolf Sattler, there was a connection.  A world-renowned botanist, he had focused for the last couple of decades of his career on the relationship between western science and nature and ecology, and on how alternative lenses like process philosophy, systems ..read more