Roots and Branches

Maintaining consistency and pleasure in your practice on the road

This weekend, I’m headed to my artist’s residency at Wildacres in North Carolina, where I get to listen to the emergence of cicadas in full form, watch fireflies, work on my next book, but mostly, have time to devote to big dreams and to think of new writing projects and new ways to serve my fellow writers.

I do a writing/creative residency at least once a year: Either an awarded one like Wildacres, or I organize my own (preferably in a cabin without wifi). When I’m driving to a writing residency, like I am this time, I can be pretty footloose and fancy free about what I bring with, but I’ve created a special writing ritual box I carry with on a plane or in my car.

Why? Because being on the road can disrupt my writing time: Being in a new place, even one I’m thrilled to be in, means it can take me longer to reorient towards my creative practice than I do when I’m surrounded by comfortable things.

Having a writing ritual at home connects me to the pleasure and sacredness of my work every day. And, when I’m writing on the road, sticking to a writing ritual helps me reorient more quickly back into the work, and maintains the same pleasurable, delicious feelings I cultivate around writing at home: So rather than wedging myself in at a hotel desk at banging away at the keyboard, I’m weaving as much enjoyment into the process as I can (even if I am still wedged into that hotel desk).

Those comforts include creature comforts to make writing physically comfortable: Maybe some favorite cozy socks or a light travel blanket, or favorite snacks.

My ritual also includes beautiful things I like to look at, so the space itself feels pleasurable and relaxing, and things that help me engage with my writing practice that echo the writing ritual I have at home (like my rollerball writing scents).

Ultimately, bringing in some consistency and joy into our daily routines, even when traveling, can help keep us consistent writers/creatives.

I pack my travel writing ritual materials up in my grandma’s recipe box: The same one that, for years, I put requests in for my writing and leave on my ancestors’ altar.

Here’s what I include, and how I use it:

Rocks: Some nice polished stones, yes, but also rocks found out in the wild. One from my first artist residency I ever went on to Hambidge (where I’m hosting my very own workshop next month!), and the other from my wedding trip to Denmark, which reminds me of my beloved pet rock from when I was a kid (also a pumice-y stone, but more round).

Salt: A reminder to reconnect with the foundational elements of my work as well as the more conceptual and experimental ones. Salt plays both roles in my kitchen, so the reminder works well for me as writer.

Candles + pin: 1 candle for each day I plan to write (roughly). I carve my writing intention for the day into the candle with the pin and let it burn as I work.

Tiny cat sticker: I picked this sticker up off the ground when I first, first came to Atlanta and have been carrying it around with me for a decade. It brings some light, playful energy to my work.

Necklace: I’ve had this amber necklace since I was in high school (maybe longer), and I set it, or another piece of jewelry in a visible place while I work, then wear it when I’m out and about. It provides a visible reminder of my own creative current being a consistent presence in my days even when I’m not actively drafting sentences, and reminds me to be open to serendipity and inspiration throughout my day.

Crow: I made this little crow sculpture in elementary school. It was never fired so is still ever-so-slightly malleable, yet somehow has maintained its shape for about 35 years and being crammed in drawers or moved between houses. It now has pride of place in my home, and is a reminder of the lifelong nature of my creative practice: And how proud younger me would be of today me.

Not pictured: My writing scents in travel rollerball applicators, plus a few comfy wearable things like a favorite hoodie and cozy socks.

Save for the pin (which you could swap out for a safety pin or just omit) there’s nothing in here that’s going to upset the TSA, though I would leave my clay crow at home probably if I were flying, just in case.

 If I want to pack really light, I’ll just bring a couple items (say, a rock and a necklace) and intentionally set them out in front of me, then meditate or do some deep breathing, before I dive into writing.

What would you put in your traveling writing ritual altar?

P.S. Building your own writing ritual (and one of these traveling kits) is one of the activities you’ll dive into inside of during Bloom.

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