I go back to trying to breathe, slowly and calmly, and I finally notice the one-inch picture frame that I put on my desk to remind me of short assignments.

It reminds me that all I have to do is to write down as much as I can see through a one-inch picture frame. This is all I have to bite off for the time being. All I am going to do right now, for example, is write that one paragraph that sets the story in my hometown, in the late fifties, when the trains were still running. I am going to paint a picture of it, in words, on my word processor. Or all I am going to do is to describe the main character the very first time we meet her, when she first walks out the front door and onto the porch. I am not even going to describe the expression on her face when she first notices the blind dog sitting behind the wheel of her car—just what can see through the one-inch picture frame, just one paragraph describing this woman, in the town where I grew up, the first time we encounter her.

E. L. Doctorow once said that "writing a novel is like driving a car at night. You can see only as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way." You don’t have to see where you’re going, you don’t have to see your destination or everything you will pass along the way. You just have to see two or three feet ahead of you. This is right up there with the best advice about writing, or life, I have ever heard.

Obviously, it’s harder by far to look at yourself with this same sense of compassionate detachment. Practice helps. As with exercise, you may be sore the first few days, but then you will get a little bit better at it every day. I am learning slowly to bring my crazy pinball-machine mind back to this place of friendly detachment toward myself, so I can look out at the world and see all those other things with respect. Try looking at your mind as a wayward puppy that you are trying to paper train. You don’t drop-kick a puppy into the neighbor’s yard every time it piddles on the floor. You just keep bringing it back to the newspaper. So I keep trying gently to bring my mind back to what is really there to be seen, maybe to be seen and noted with a kind of reverence. Because if I don’t learn to do this, I think I’ll keep getting things wrong.

Letting Go

To have an immediate experience of letting go you can always stand up and stretch as much as you can and then relax. You’ve done that thousands of times in your life, and it almost always provides an instant burst of good feeling, clarity, and energy. The following two exercises are expansions of the same idea. One of them emphasizes letting go physically, the other, mentally.

Physically. Sit in a chair with your hands on your legs. Tense your legs and keep them tense as you successively and steadily tense your pelvis, rib cage, shoulder, neck, and jaw. Hold all of that tense for a moment. Now relax. You have just let go. How did it feel? Observe.

Mentally. Imagine that something you mentally carry around with you - a strong opinion, belief, or thought that blocks your way - is actually represented by something you are wearing. It can be a shoe, watch, ring, bracelet, scarf or tie. Strongly imagine that this blocking mental set exists totally in the article you are wearing. Then: take it off!

How does it feel to let go in this way?

Move through time. Think back to approximately a year ago today. What were you thinking? What were you doing? How did you feel about your life? Bring back some of the details: the people, your routine, your clothes, your mood.

Move through space. Mentally go to your grandmother’s house. Then go to the place in the U.S. you like best. Move on to your favorite European city, whether you’ve been there or not. While your suitcase is packed, go to the planet of your choice, or to some star or other solar system. Revel in the details of each stopover. What do you wish you’d brought with you?

Experience colors. See red, then yellow, blue, green, orange, purple. Put them together in combinations, or move them around in swirls. What does each color say? How does each make you feel?

Materialize objects. Conjure up a fork, your telephone, your favorite childhood toy, the house you’d like to live in. Do something appropriate with each. Then do something inappropriate.

Feel sensations. Imagine you’re on a roller-coaster ride, grinding upwards then dashing down, looping, twisting, turning. Feel the wind on your face, and the grip of your muscles. See the skyline, then the people below. Where’s your stomach? Where’s your comb?

Taste things. Cut open a lemon. Squeeze a drop of it on your tongue. Roll it around. Then open your eyes and close them again. Bite into a piece of chocolate fudge. Let it slide across your tongue. If it’s studded with nuts or marshmallows, enjoy the texture contrast.

Hear sound. Listen to a wave lapping, a whisper, a motor starting, the growl of a dog, a snore, a thunderstorm, a scream, then - all the way through - the Star-Spangled Banner. Notice all the background noises too.

Feel emotions. Pre-live a great loss - the death of someone you love very much, or the dashing of an ideal. Then recall a happy surprise. Dwell on the details of the event, and on your own physical reaction.

Do the forbidden. Sass a parent, disobey a boss, throw your hand at a bridge partner - anything you’ve always wanted to do. Luxuriate in the emotional aftermath, then pick up the pieces.

Give birth to an idea. Remember an idea that’s come to you lately. Shoot it down with judgment and negative thoughts; resurrect it with cool, clear logic. Repeat the performance with a brand new idea.

Clustering. This is a word and visual game that engages your inner mind in the discovery of yourself. The technique is used by writers to get unstuck about a topic and gain new insights. Play some relaxing music and get comfortable so that you can concentrate and become absorbed in concentration.

In the middle of a piece of paper write a key or nucleus word or phrase - such as “money” or “being ordinary” or “myself” - and draw a heavy circle around it. Then free associate another word that comes off the first word. Write it down, circle it, and draw a line between the two circles. Let your mind go free on the topic and continue to write words, circling, and connecting, stimulated by either the nucleus word or any of the others.

Work quickly and easily, almost impulsively. Don’t let your analytical mind get too involved. If you get stuck, try doodling; connect the circles with lines; draw in arrowheads; touch up or go over your circles. Then see if there is anything more coming out.

Be playful. Just let it flow at random. Be ordinary. Allow the words and connections to happen. Have faith that they are within you and you are merely allowing to come out.