A dozen ways to stay calm and keep writing

BY WILEY WEI-CHIUN HO

In early 2020, I found myself in the cool slipstream of writing flow. A channel was open, and I was swimming in new ideas and stories. Buoyed by recent wins, including a scholarship to a writers’ workshop at Banff Centre and first prize in the 2020 BC-Yukon Short, I was on a roll, averaging a thousand (fairly decent) words a day. Then, the new coronavirus hit, and the world went flat and quiet. Initially, I considered the stay-home orders a gift, another sign from the universe to devote myself to my writing. But instead of producing more with the extra time I had from suspended work contracts and cancelled social events, I wrote less. I slept odd hours and moped around the house. At my desk, I would write a sentence and delete it, open a book and stare at it like wallpaper.

I wasn’t alone. Since the start of the COVID-19 pandemic, the Public Health Agency of Canada has reported spikes in anxiety and depression, with over forty percent of the population experiencing fatigue, loneliness, a persistent sense of fear, and a lack of motivation. After weeks of feeling unmoored and creatively blocked, I checked in with my doctor, who assured me I was depressed but not clinically so—at least not yet. She said it was vital that I try new things to improve my mood so it didn’t get stuck in a low pattern.

I researched and tried a variety of lifestyle hacks. After months of experimentation, here is what I found.

Sleep is a strong ally. The nights where I stayed up way too late bingeing The Queen’s Gambit and Superstore did me no good, no matter how good their writing. The nights when I went to bed with a book (preferably not horror or apocalyptic) enabled better rest and calmer mornings where I could get some work done.

Consistency is important. I reserve three hours every morning to write. In that time, reading counts too. If my own words are reluctant to come, I read. Sooner or later, an amazing passage will inspire me back to my own writing. When I can’t face the page, I sing— badly, but that’s beside the point. After belting out a couple of sappy ballads, I find it difficult not to smile.

Nature is restorative. Walk, run, bike, swim, forestbathe. The exact activity is unimportant, but scientific data shows that after just forty minutes of being in nature, our blood pressure, blood glucose, and cortisol levels all measurably drop. Simply being near trees or the ocean, particularly minus technology, gives our nervous system a reset. I’ve started to leave my smartphone at home. Without the distraction of pinging notifications, or the ability to take pictures or “quickly” look something up, my body has begun to notice the physical world around it. I’ve taken to bringing pen and paper on my walks for when new ideas or observations arrive—and they do most often when I’m outdoors.

Gradually, my calm has returned, and with it, creativity. After six months of experimentation, I had written a new short story and revised several others. I was feeling quite proud of myself until I heard a writer say she’d finished a whole novel, which, she complained, paled in comparison to Shakespeare penning King Lear during a London plague. “Not only that,” she continued, “he also came up with the plots for Macbeth and Antony and Cleopatra.” How was that supposed to help ordinary mortals like me? It didn’t. But it did lead me to another realization: Comparison truly is a killer to joy. If you must compare, then compare your writing today to your writing last month and notice the progress.

Deadlines can be helpful. Having an external source of accountability is useful to keep the keyboard clacking. I’m thankful to be part of a writing group that exchanges work every two weeks. This regular infusion of feedback and support (even via Zoom during lockdown) is nourishing for works in progress. Writing contests provide yet another motivator to polish a story.

Naturally, some days are better than others. Accepting that life is flux has helped me to neither give up nor take the easy days for granted. Even as we slowly emerge from this pandemic, other disasters are occurring. It helps to acknowledge life’s endless cycle of doom and recovery. When everything feels too much, I take a break. On such days, I do very little except practise gratitude and radical (self-)acceptance.

1. Good sleep is foundational Get your sanity sleep.

2. Nature is a source of joy and energy. Get your daily outdoors fix.

3. Regularly unplug from technology, social media, and the news. Feel your diaphragm expand when you do.

4. Comparison is a killer to joy. There are always more/less prolific, better/worse writers than you. Damn Shakespeare. Compete only with yourself.

5. Designate time for writing and reading, and protect it.

6. Read like a writer. Take note of good craft and practise it on the page.

7. Deadlines help, as do writing groups that exchange constructive feedback. Writing contests can get your story to the finish line.

8. Dwell in gratitude—it’s the healthiest emotion. Enumerate the wonderful people, pets, and gifts in your life.

9. Sing. Dance. Cook. Do something other than writing for a different creative outlet and inspiration.

10. Eat well and stay hydrated—so obvious but so often overlooked.

11. Laughter relieves stress and provides perspective. Reach out and spend time with goodhumoured people. Watch silly cat videos.

12. When all else fails, practise radical (self-) acceptance. Stay in your PJs all day, suspend your brain on mindless entertainment, eat that entire bag of chips and chase it down with sparkling wine. Just make sure it isn’t every day. If it is, please go see your doctor.

Here’s to your wellness and a flowing pen!

Wiley Wei-Chiun Ho is a TaiwaneseCanadian writer of short stories, personal essays, and memoir. A technical writer based in North Vancouver, she has been published in magazines and anthologies, and she contributes to North Vancouver Recreation & Culture’s Active Living blog. Wiley is completing her first book about her Taiwanese-Canadian “astronaut” family.