I decided to toss off a draft for TBB yesterday, just to give her an idea of another way to approach a problem. It was one of those step back notes I learned to so long ago, where rather than pulling apart someone’s last note, you talk about the bigger issues, where the conflicts and connections are.
“You write so fast,” TBB said after receiving it. “It would have taken me hours to write that.”
Yeah. And writing it in hours would make it less than flowing. For me, I’d usually rather throw away some text that blocks me and start again than try to work it too hard. My writing needs to have breath in it, needs to have flow; after all, it’s the only part of me that does have that at this point.
Barry Humphries, the force behind Dame Edna Everage, said “I could write everything Edna says, but it is much faster to just let her say it.” It’s the flow that makes the grace, not the force.
I write fast because I have learned to trust my voice, even as it says things that surprise me. When my voice flows it’s much more than when I had to force everything out through my brain.
It is that flow in performance which I miss. I loved the days when I could stand in front of a group, speak, and feel the flow come.
TBB knows this. She tossed off a six page response on her harassment issue, all flow and ease, and her therapist was pleased with it. When she enables her voice, lets it flow, it comes out with grace & ease.
It’s flow I miss, and flow that empowers me, far from my father’s constant injunction to “slow down and think things through.”
Fast is fun, which is one reason femmebabble is often incomprehensible to others; speed communication in code, assisted by intonation and expression which carry codes of nuance and meaning (the tone of sharing is almost always more important than the actual content).
Fast is flow.
And other than in my writing, I miss it.