Between the trees
I've been fortunate enough this year to hear a lot of authors talk about their books at various events and festivals I've been to. I am a card carrying book-a-holic, and they must be paper books (although I'll admit to the occasional dalliance with audiobooks, particularly on long car journeys or when travelling light). I like to mix it up, fiction or factual, and I love nothing more than books about bold journeys or discoveries.
Having seen some authors talk about their nonfiction this weekend, | noticed there has been a consistent theme to many of the talks I've seen throughout the year; the benefits of being outdoors and reconnecting with nature. Now, that wouldn't have been surprising had the books in question been on that particular theme, but they weren't. The common element I noted were that the authors talked about the impact of the 2020/21 lockdowns on their subject matter and their craft.
So many of us took to the outdoors during that time, mainly because it was one of the few things we could do. The effect was that people reconnected with nature and benefited mentally and physically from it. I got in the habit of a daily walk, alternating the direction each day and was able to note the passing of time and seasons on the route I was taking, not something I would have stopped to take in had the pandemic not happened.
It particularly struck me was there seemed to be a link between spending time outdoors and the immersion in nature and creativity. Many of the authors spoke of ideas that came up that year or how it gave them time to plan voyages, research or adventures that subsequently inspired their writing.
I realised that had also been my experience. Given the enforced "pause", I found myself writing again for the first time in thirty years, launched a podcast (securitea and two sugars) and started to sing again for fun, recording songs, sometimes with others, and learning to edit them clumsily on my computer.
Most of this had been fuelled by my time in the outdoors, which has always helped crystalise my thinking. I wondered how many bold and creative endeavours had their roots in that time? From the worst of times, as the adage goes.
This weekend, spent dodging the raindrops between the trees and listening to some amazing people talk about their writing, has reinforced the importance of taking the time to pause, to reflect and to clear the deluge of thoughts that often drown the creative process. I believe that thinking time is always better spent in the fresh air, where our perspectives can shift, the space can unlock our creativity and the predictability of nature and the seasons can offer the grounding we need to launch our ideas or ventures into reality.
I mean, they don't call it blue sky thinking for nothing, do they?
