Be Like Hanna in Your Writing - Go with the Flow
This is Hanna. This is Hanna on a very hot hike in Moab, UT about three years ago.
Our hikes are more local these days, as our family is continuing to practice physical distancing to do our part in curbing the spread of Covid-19. Because we're spending more time in our apartment than ever before, my favorite part of every day is the time I spend outdoors walking or running or hiking with Hanna. (I am so grateful to live in a place where we can safely and easily spend time in nature!)
The other day, we set out for a stroll through a field by the river. We walk that huge field almost every day, usually in the same direction: We strike out along the field's perimeter, close to the water's edge (the better for Hanna to enjoy some quick dips in the water). Then we circle back along the top of the green field before crossing a bridge and heading back to the apartment.
Hanna is so used to this routine that she often leads the way down the narrow dirt trail that edges the river. On this day, she was happily gallivanting ahead of me when I spotted another group of walkers coming our way. I decided to reverse our loop and spare everyone from the "social distance shuffle."
Instead of following Hanna along the water's edge, I began cutting across the top of the field and called for her to follow.
My call stopped her in her tracks, and I could see her grappling with inner tension. She wanted to go down to the water. It's the way we usually go, and the way we were planning to go. But I had asked her to come with me, and in a split second I watched her become okay with the change in plans.
She leapt up, twisting her body around in midair, then charged toward me, ready and eager to strike out in this new direction.
Going with the Flow
What Hanna did on that walk is to go with the flow.
She thought she was heading toward a particular destination, but then a new pathway presented itself. She cheerfully followed that new path, and you know what happened next?
We saw a bald eagle sitting stoic and silent in a tree above us. We saw two red-tailed hawks swooping and sparring overhead. We watched an osprey dive for fresh fish. We played in the grass and—would you believe it!—Hanna found a dirty old tennis ball that she proceeded to carry the whole way home.
We had a great walk. We had an even better walk than we might have had if we'd stuck to the original plan for no other reason than because it was the original plan.
The Lesson for Writing
Ever since that walk, I've aspired to be like Hanna in my writing.
I want to embody the openness and ease with which she embraced a new path.
We can plan a piece of writing down to the last detail, but things change when we actually sit down to write.
We might think we should go one way, but the writing wants to take us another. We might have wanted to wade in the river, but the writing is asking us to poke around in the green grass.
Who knows what treasures could be found there, if only we're willing to look!
My suggestion is to follow the writing wherever it wants to take you.
If you hear it call to you, pause in your tracks. Consider why you're wanting to push on with the original plans even as the writing is calling you elsewhere. Be willing to follow it. Be willing to leap up, twist around, and charge forward in a new direction.
With any luck, an eagle or an osprey or a dirty old tennis ball awaits you!