I can write to the ambient noise of a coffee shop, but not to music.

I prefer to write when other people are sleeping.

I like to write on holidays like Christmas and the 4th of July. Something about feeling that the rest of the world is otherwise engaged helps me.

Hard as I try, I cannot, cannot, CANNOT write according to a routine. God, I wish it were that easy. Every day is different and after more than 7 years of trying, I have just come to accept this. Although it’s a giant pain in the buttinski.

My attention works on a push-pull basis. I have to pay attention to my writing in short spurts, toward and away, toward and away. Looks like this: 42 minutes writing, check e-mail, make tea, 37 minutes writing, watch What Not to Wear, read something inspiring, write 91 minutes, catch up with Twitter pals, write 9 minutes, etc, etc. I don’t write in discrete segments, it seems to mix in throughout the day instead.

No, I don’t have ADD.  My attention span circles its object, it doesn’t target it. It just doesn’t work in a straight line. That’s the way it is. I accept me the way I am. Finally.

Trying to write is like trying to get a virgin to sleep with you. “It’s okay baby. I love you now. I’ll love you tomorrow. It’s gonna be great. Don’t think about it so much. Now get over here.”

Even if I think I have nothing to say, if I just write one sentence, I can usually write one more. And then another. Can’t think too far ahead.

Every few hours, I do a handstand. (But not in Starbucks.)

Deadlines invite the muse, open-ended opportunity does not.

Sometimes I like to work at a desk, sometimes on the couch, sometimes in bed.

If I start writing the moment I wake up, things go well. If I do anything first (check email, kiss my husband good morning, tweet) it’s not so good.

When I’m around people too much, I can’t write. When I’m too isolated, I can’t write. Not too close, not too far. A magical dividing line that is constantly moving.

When I can’t think of anything to write, I read until the moment an inspiration hits and then I go straight to the page. Immediately. If I even stop to drink a sip of water, it disappears.

When I read what I’ve written and go, “Who wrote that? I don’t remember knowing that,” I know I’ve written something good.

How Can I Heal a Broken Heart?

For Beliefnet

Photo by Ming

My beautiful friend Dana got married to the excellent Saxon and she asked me to say something during the ceremony. What could be a greater honor? And what can one possible say to mark something as momentously insanse and fabulous as getting married? Here is the poem I wrote:

For you, under an open sky without beginning or end, I rouse a mind of sadness and delight, inseparable from each other.

Taking refuge in the grace and gentleness of the father lineage, I hold your gaze fearlessly, knowing that in the moment love comes into focus, it also disappears. Still I hold your gaze. I do.

Emulating the openness and bounty of the mother lineage, I give myself completely, without really knowing how. You are playing you and I am playing me. Let’s go.

I offer you only a joyful mind, as infinite as the sky. Yes, I do. Like the sky, it can contain sunshine and storms, snowflakes and hail. Conditions are continually shifting but the sky is always the sky. It never gives up. From within it—Rejoice! The great sun rises in the east, the moon meets the tide and the circle is always complete.

Ki Ki! So So!

Jimmy Ruffin

While writing my book on heartbreak (”The Wisdom of a Broken Heart,” due out in September ‘09), I’ve turned again and again to that time honored source of knowledge and solace: music.

Here are the lyrics to my current all-time fave. It is just so wrenching and poetic. Grab a kleenex and enjoy.

WHAT BECOMES OF THE BROKEN HEARTED

Songwriters: James Dean/Paul Riser/William Weatherspoon

As I walk this land of broken dreams
I have visions of many things
But happiness is just an illusion
Filled with sadness and confusion

What becomes of the broken hearted
Who had love, that’s now departed
I know I’ve got to find
Some kind of peace of mind, maybe

The roots of love grow all around
But for me they come a tumblin’ down
Every day heartaches grow a little stronger
I can’t stand this pain much longer

I walk in shadows searching for light
Cold and alone, no comfort in sight
Hoping and praying for someone to care
Always moving and going nowhere

What becomes of the broken hearted
Who had love, that’s now departed
I know I’ve got to find
Some kind of peace of mind, help me

I’m searching though I don’t succeed
But someone look, there’s a growing need
All is lost, there’s no place for beginning
All that’s left is an unhappy ending

Now what becomes of the broken-hearted
Who had love, that’s now departed
I know I’ve got to find
Some kind of peace of mind

I’ll be searching everywhere
Just to find someone to care
I’ll be looking everyday
I know I’m gonna find a way

Nothing’s gonna stop me now
I’ll find a way somehow
I’ll be searching everywhere

Click here for this 30-minute interview on Writing Spirit Resources website. Enjoy!

· If there is no self, whose arthritis is this?

· Be here now. Be someplace else later. Is that so complicated?

· Drink tea and nourish life; with the first sip, joy; with the second sip, satisfaction; with the third sip, peace; with the fourth, a Danish.

· Wherever you go, there you are. Your luggage is another story.

· Accept misfortune as a blessing. Do not wish for perfect health, or a life without problems. What would you talk about?

· The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single Oy.

· There is no escaping karma. In a previous life, you never called, you never wrote, you never visited. And whose fault was that?

· Zen is not easy. It takes effort to attain nothingness. And then what do you have? Bupkis.

· The Tao does not speak. The Tao does not blame. The Tao does not take sides.The Tao has no expectations. The Tao demands nothing of others. The Tao is not Jewish.

· Let your mind be as a floating cloud. Let your stillness be as a wooded glen. And sit up straight. You’ll never meet the Buddha with such rounded shoulders.

· Deep inside you are ten thousand flowers. Each flower blossoms ten thousand times. Each blossom has ten thousand petals. You might want to see a specialist.

· Be aware of your body. Be aware of your perceptions. Keep in mind that not every physical sensation is a symptom of a terminal illness.

· The Torah says, Love your neighbor as yourself. The Buddha says, There is no self . So, maybe we are off the hook

From Zen Judaism by David Bader

JUNE 16-22, 2009
MORGAN’S ROCK HACIENDA & ECO-LODGE
SAN JUAN del SUR, NICARAGUA

CLICK here TO REGISTER

Join New York Times best-selling author and Buddhist teacher Susan Piver for a week of relaxation, writing, hiking, and fun day trips. Give yourself the gift of immersion in your own writing and enjoy the company of fellow-writers. Learn how to meditate and explore the relationship between meditation and creativity.

Open to writers of all genres and styles, published and unpublished. Bring existing projects, new ideas, or simply the wish to explore your own creativity. In paradise.

“Susan is a caring, compassionate person whose presence, insights, and instructions made for a valuable week exploring meditation practice and writing.” Heather R, Albany, Travel Writer

“Susan Piver is very wise, intuitive, and insightful and has had great impact, with a very light touch.” Gil D, St. Johnsbury, VT, Corporate Consultant & Business Writer

“Emotionally moving, spiritually a gift, cathartic beyond my wildest imagination.” Miriam L, Cambridge, Essayist

Morgan’s Rock Hacienda & Ecolodge is more than just a hotel or luxury resort. It is a unique and natural haven for the true traveler who is looking for a touch of luxury while enjoying the adventure and excitement of an exotic and tropical destination. But most importantly, it is a project of nature conservation, community development and reforestation offering Agro and Ecotourism at its best.

Enjoy the solitary companionship of one of Nicaragua ’s most beautiful beaches while slipping back into your spacious private bungalow overlooking Pacific sunsets and tropical wildlife.

The hacienda is located just north of San Juan del Sur, about a 45-minute drive from the Costa Rican border and two hours from the colonial city of Granada in southern Nicaragua. Endowed with a private, white-sanded beach visited by sea turtles to lay their eggs, the hacienda also hosts its own primary tropical dry forest ecosystem.

“The room was exquisite, spacious with an amazing view. The daybed on the porch was a sweet way to feel time slip away. The beach was absolutely perfect beyond belief, from the cabanas to the hammocks to the warm waters; and we were almost virtually alone! The cocktails were delicious, the pool (along with every other aspect) is beautifully designed. And once again, the staff was wonderful.” –Gay Kalember & Adrianna Pavloff

For a tour of Morgan’s Rock, have a look at this short video clip.

__________________________________________________________________

Morgan’s Rock is part of a full-scale tree farming, reforestation and conservation project that extends over 1,800 hectares. And the rooms are gor-geous. In fact, the whole place is gorgeous. It’s been reviewed favorably by Conde Nast, the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, Travel & Leisure, and so on.

Join me June 16-22 for this amazing retreat. You’ll have plenty of time to sink into your writing, and we’ll also share day-trips, hikes, and fun, focused group conversation about our work.

CLICK here TO REGISTER

Feel free to e-mail me with any questions.

Article in New Orleans Times-Picayune, in which I was quoted.

So this is what I’ve ended up with, with around 30 hours to go before returning home after one month away.

48,366 words and many short chapters. Laid out as follows:

“The Wisdom of a Broken Heart”

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Introduction

Part One: Relax
Chapter One: How the Light Gets In
Chapter Two: Depression vs. Sadness
Chapter Three: Nothing Happens
Chapter Four: It is a Dark Night
Chapter Five: Making Friends with Heartbreak
Chapter Six: Yes, You Have Lost Your Mind (But it’s Okay.)
Chapter Seven: How to Meditate
Chapter Eight: If You Accept Pain, It Cannot Hurt You
Chapter Nine: Sex Might Help
Chapter Ten: Have Faith

Part Two: See Where You Are
Chapter Eleven: Of the Four Responses, One is Helpful
Chapter Twelve: Act Like a Queen
Chapter Thirteen: Give Your Demons a Dinner Party
Chapter Fourteen: Expect Allies
Chapter Fifteen: Become Wrathful
Chapter Sixteen: Intensify to Let Go
Chapter Seventeen: Trump This
Chapter Eighteen: Mirrors
Chapter Nineteen: “I Forgive You”
Chapter Twenty: Really Unhelpful Things
Chapter Twenty-One: Really Untrue Things
Chapter Twenty-Two: Intimacy is Always There

Part Three: Be Where You Are
Chapter Twenty-Three: A Luminous Journey
Chapter Twenty-Four: Authenticity
Chapter Twenty-Five: The Meaning of Love
Chapter Twenty-Six: One Sorry-Ass Bodhisattva
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Tears and the Bodhisattva
Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Practice of Loving Kindness
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Extending Loving Kindness to the One who Broke Your Heart
Chapter Thirty: Turning Off the Projector
Chapter Thirty-One: The Importance of Sadness

Part Four: Broken Hearted to Wholehearted, A X-Day Program

Afterword

Goodbye, Colorado! Thank you. I love you.