Anita Mathias: Dreaming Beneath the Spires

Anita Mathias's Blog on Faith and Art

The Writing Process

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The Writing Process
 As humility comes before honour (Book of Proverbs),  the moment of horror and despair in writing, the moment when you feel you know nothing at all, is the precursor to the flood of insight and intuition.
That moment of despair, helplessness and dread often precedes light.

You begin with confidence.  You move to a place of blackness, dread, fear, chaos, and despair, and slowly, you write your way out of that place.
The process of planning a birthday party is a bit like writing,  “I don’t know how to do it, I won’t be able to do it, I don’t want to do it, It may not be any good,” sheer despair, and then as things begin to coalesce one feels better and better, until finally one is confident.

Vermeer–Artist of Domestic Peace

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So one can be so quiet, so quiet, so still and peaceful in the midst of domesticity!

That the hands work is no excuse for the mind not to think.

You can almost hear the silence.  The milkmaid serenely fills her earthenware bowl.  “The Young Woman with a Jug” pauses to dream out of the window.  The lacemaker is lost in her work. 
 I gaze at Vermeer’s women.  I trust most things that help me lose track of time–reading, writing, gardening, hiking, the sea, art galleries, prayer, sex, good movies, good conversation.  
Vermeer’s women lose themselves is: housework.  It glows!  Is this domesticity?  Can it be?  That’s the way I want to live my life, like “Woman Holding a Balance,” slowly, tranquilly, not fighting the irrelevant relevant, the distracting, trivial and necessary tasks of my days, but embracing them as an oasis of contemplation in which desert flowers may bloom.
Vermeer’s paintings, poems one might say, on the radiance of domesticity are more moving when we learn of the hurly-burly of his household–a wife, eleven children, and a feisty mother-in-law.  Those paintings that could have been called “Shanti, shanti, shanti” or “Tranquility” instead of “Girl Reading a Letter at an Open Window” are probably sighs of yearning, images of an elusive Eden.  They hint how manual work–if used as time for contemplation–might be redeemed,

A mystic moment in everyday life, Poem by Rabindranath Tagore

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Here’s one of my favourite Rabindranath Tagore poems from Geetanjali

I ask for a moment’s indulgence to sit by thy side. The works 
that I have in hand I will finish afterwards. 

Away from the sight of thy face my heart knows no rest nor respite, 
and my work becomes an endless toil in a shoreless sea of toil. 


Now it is time to sit quiet, face to face with thee, and to sing 
dedication of life in this silent and overflowing leisure.

Google and the Mind of Christ

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Google Search is a marvel. Fling a question at it, any question, and it whirrs away, producing hundreds of answers–in seconds.

I imagine the mind of Christ is like that. Infinitely creative and playful. Delighting in the extraordinary. In miracles.

Ask it a question. Let’s say, a mundane one–“How do I adjust the energy balance so that I eat fewer calories than I consume?”–or a creative problem: “Tell me something new about this Biblical passage I am blogging about,” and I imagine Christ smiles, sets his immensely creative brain whirring, and presents solutions.  “Your choice, Honey.”

Part of our task as Christian writers and human beings is to still and quiet ourselves right down, and tune in to his mind, and hear or overhear the brilliant solutions his brilliant mind is coming up with.

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The Writing Process

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As humility comes before honour (Book of Proverbs),  the moment of horror and despair in writing, the moment when you feel you know nothing at all, is the precursor to the flood of insight and intuition. That moment of helplessness and dread often precedes light.
You begin with confidence.  You move to a place of blackness, dread, fear, chaos, and despair, and slowly, you write your way out of that place by just putting down the one thing you do know, the one clear thought you do have.
The process of planning a birthday party is a bit like writing,  “I don’t know how to do it, I won’t be able to do it, I don’t want to do it, It may not be any good,” sheer despair, and then as things begin to coalesce one feels better and better, until finally one is confident.

First Drafts like Dough–Get your dough, then shape your cookies.

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The first draft is like dough–Make it first!!

The first draft is like making dough.  The crucial thing is making it; without the dough, no cookies, once you have made it, you can shape it into a myriad forms.

In my early days as a writer, I would foolishly try to get each paragraph right before going on to the next, believing that once I started writing sloppily, it would prove infectious. 

However, the same dough, with tweaks, can make muffins, pancakes, breads, cookies. It is important to have some dough to get anything done, to get your first draft down, to get what you want to say down. Later it can be shaped into interesting Christmas cookies, and reshaped at will. 

Pray without Ceasing–First Century Multitasking.

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Rejoice always, pray constantly, in everything give thanks (1 Thess 5:17)

Pray constantly. Hmm. Paul’s first century readers were not professional mystics or monks any more than his 21st century readers are.
So, he was obviously talking about prayer interwoven with work, which is actually a lovely form of prayer, a kind of redemption.
I experienced this today as I played worship music (Misty Edwards) while doing yoga. It flowed quite well, until I found the words distracting and then stopped.
I like the worship music of people like Alberto Rivera (and Misty Edwards) because of their conscious attempt to mimic what they call the soundscapes of heaven, and to usher people into the presence of God.
It is certainly blessed (I believe people would call it “anointed”) music, because it really does usher one into God’s presence fairly quickly.

The Wall of Beautiful Manners

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The Wall of Beautiful Manners

I was at at a garden party at Somerville College, Oxford, a week or so ago. I was chatting to a lawyer friend, when a Very Important Person joined us briefly.

I have encountered this person at social events over the last 5 years, and she has always had the most beautiful, impeccable manners.

Manners that are like a wall and shield. That keep people at bay, behind a pretty smile without warmth. And social nothings.

I am someone who likes nothing better than long, deep heart to heart conversations. To engage people. Why do I even go to parties? Because I love people is the short answer!

Do you like her? I asked my friend. She silently wrinkled her nose, as was wise given the company we were keeping.  “You know,” she said, “it’s only in the last year that I had to really encounter her, and I thought, with surprise, “You are a human being, after all!”

Interestingly, in this country, good manners can be reserved for those one deems less important, as a way of keeping them at bay behind a Defence Shield of perfect and lifeless manners