Last night I attended, what I thought was a talk on publishing by a creative writing group. Being brand new to fiction writing I was curious about the process.
On arrival we were given a word and then timed for 10 minutes while we wrote a piece relating to our prompt. Eek. No pressure then! After 2 minutes of staring blankly at the page I thankfully managed to cobble together a perfectly acceptable little story.
Phew. And breathe.
Umm, not quite. We then were invited to read out our pieces with me going first.
By this time I was so far out of my comfort zone I couldn’t even see it. With sweaty palms and a shaky voice accompanying my trepidation I somehow managed to get the words out.
Pre mindfulness I would have had a lot of negative things to say to myself about the anxiety I felt during this experience.
What mindfulness has taught me is compassion and self kindness. Yes it would have been great to have been able to have read my piece, with no anxiety, and enjoyed it but I was able to accept the moment exactly as it was without any judgement,
It is perfectly natural to have times we feel nervous, and I do. Mindfulness hasn’t given me super human powers and the ability to choose exactly how to feel all of the time but it has allowed me to give myself a virtual pat on the back and say “you know what? You did ok”. For that I am grateful.