Process of Writing / Goddard College

j. k. cosmos
-Process – about language and spirit. How? Beginning at Goddard, the literal was the rule and I attended every workshop possible…had some angst on missing any of them and continued to read the handouts and run around from building to building with few minutes to spare. I did not speak. I did not volunteer to comment. I did not volunteer to read. I did not volunteer to ask a question. The days past and I also did not fully engage with my colleagues. I did not speak at the huge square table at meals. I listened. I did not nod my head in agreement with faculty or with other students. My recollection is that my initial days on campus were frightening; not in a way of horror, but in a way of being intimidated. Frightened was the theme of my first residency, as I had decided to come to Goddard only a few days prior to the residency, having accepted another MFA Program. I felt ambivalent as I had talked with the Director and staff at the other program and only one person at Goddard. I hadn’t quite centered myself at home first, prior to the drive from outside of Boston to Plainfield. I hadn’t quite made the time in my head to be fully cognizant of the decisions and the possibilities at Goddard.
One fifth term student spoke with me; she actually looked at me and the invisibility cleared up for a few moments. I appreciated her attempt to get to me. The time after the readings and very full schedule, I went to sit in my car and listened to James Taylor’s melodious voice, his soothing lyrics and songs. I sat in the car way too much and listened to JT and sat in the air conditioning. I called my oldest son, and he calmed me. He said to give it a chance. I knew that. Yes, I knew it intellectually. I could logically move to the place of being thankful that I had the opportunity to be a member of the Goddard community. But, the rest of me was uncomfortable and that is not usually the case for me. I usually am very able at being flexible with circumstances, people, social situations and those events where it just takes some thoughtfulness to be comfortable. I really am very okay in my own skin. That is why this feeling of not talking and just observing and listening was so very difficult.
The last evening of the residency, walking from Manor to the Admin Building, the Director of the Program was walking towards me with his dog, Darla. I wished I could walk slower or faster to miss any real contact with him. It wasn’t to be. As we approached each other, he said, ‘You are not here by chance, Jeanne. You are here for a reason.” He kept walking, as did I. If I responded to him, I cannot recall. It sounds like I’m coming back, I thought. I wish he’d told me that the first day and not the last.
Trust the process is the mantra. I thought about the conciseness of the theme on campus and the following morning returned home. Let the writing begin in earnst.