On this 31st day of writing and posting, I’ve found a rhythm. Somehow, even when it seems that an idea for writing will elude me, something shows up. There is something about writing every day that brings forth writing every day.

On my most stuck days I do a couple of things.

• Take a walk through my camera roll to find an image that sparks something: a memory, a metaphor, a story, a connection…
• Read other people’s blog posts–either from fellow slicers at Two Writing Teachers or those I follow from other sources. Reading the writing of others might offer a structure I can adapt (13 ways, things worth sharing). I might remember a way to offer myself a lifeline when feeling overwhelmed and under-timed (6-word stories). Or I might more generally find a topic I relate to and allows at least a trickle of ideas to flow.

But what I love best about writing every day during the month of March is writing in community. The Two Writing Teachers Slice of Life Challenge brings together writers who are challenging themselves to write, even when writing feels hard. And, they are taking the time to read and respond to the writing of others. There is a spirit of generosity in this space that pushes writing forward–at least for me. These generous writers, most of whom I do not know, take the time to read and comment on the posts I publish. In a short period of time, they feel like friends. And these friends keep me accountable to myself, helping me trace a path through my brain in search of ideas that will set my writing loose.

Last night when I went to bed, I told myself I would get up and walk in the morning while my husband was at the gym. I wanted to get my daily walk done and out of my way on this first “real” day of spring break so the rest of the day could unfold without attention to a need for exercise. When I awoke this morning, everything was wet.

What? Rain in a place where it seldom rains? I consulted my weather app (as though the wet ground were not evidence enough), sure enough, precipitation expected for the next couple of hours. Hmmm–should I walk or not? I checked outside–drizzle seemed a good word to describe this event.

The raincoat with the hood up was a good idea. The damp began to layer and droplets started to trace a path off the edge of my hood, making its way onto the toes of my shoes, and into the recesses of my brain. Everywhere I looked pathways opened. I could see sap rising and feeding the greening trees. Closed flower buds waited, ready for the sun’s light to highlight a path for the bees to follow. But it was the snails that spoke to me.

I knelt low, camera in hand, noticing the paths traced on the wet sidewalk. Tiny snails smaller than the nail on my pinkie finger, others the size of my thumb slimed their way across the walking path. Where are they going? Where did they come from? If I didn’t know better, I would think they drop from the sky in the raindrops! Their zigzagging paths unloosed a path in my writing brain, as I traced the wonder, struggle, and yes, delight in the act of writing and posting every day. Will my ideas go back into some kind of hibernation (wherever snails go when the weather is dry) if I don’t keep up my writing practice?

Lucky for me, tomorrow marks the beginning of National Poetry Month and I have gotten in the habit over the last few years of writing and posting a poem each day in April. Many in the Two Writing Teachers community also find themselves posting to Verselove at Ethical ELA. Maybe I will see you there.