When I feel blocked as a writer, it generally comes down to a matter of trust. I’m not trusting that the words will come, that the ideas will flow, that the plot twists will materialize. Or I may be overly concerned about whether I deserve to be a writer. “My friends, family, editors and reviewers who love my books? What do they know?” Writer’s block is merely a loss of focus. When I start thinking that my writing is all about me (It’s not – it’s about the story) then I’m much more likely to get twisted up in a knot about it.

I don’t especially like the phrase “writer’s block.” I think of such episodes more as esteem leaks and ego attacks. We think of ego as a big, noisy space-consuming obnoxious way of being, but the other face of ego is the negative inner critic who likes to camp out on the front porch of the mind, dragging around a soggy blanket of idea-crushing poo and looking as pitiful as possible. Both faces of the crafty and slippery ego -the pitiful as well as the proud– must be handled adroitly if you want to ditch writer’s block.

Here are my three favorite techniques for blowing away those blocks!

Meditate

Yeah, I know. You can’t meditate. You mind races or you just go to sleep. Actually, though, noticing that your mind is racing is the first step. It shows you that you are not your mind. Your mind is a darned good tool, for sure, and it’s doing what nature intended it to do. It thinks–but then it doubts itself. Clever, eh? The perfect set-up for writer’s block, stage fright, insomnia, hypertension and a host of other ills. Secondly, oh sleepyhead, if you are going to sleep you probably need more sleep. Get some, I implore you! Not sleeping is a surefire way to drain your literary verve.

Just try it. There are dozens of good books on meditation; the best are short and simple. The benefits range from reduced stress, lower blood pressure and better concentration to achieving the ultimate state of inner peace. Hands down, meditation is the cheapest, most reliable and most readily available natural medicine on the planet.

As you gradually let go and relax, you can allow the yammering voice of your mind to drop away. And then you enter the land of great inspiration. It’s a realm of infinite possibility and freedom, from which great art, music and literature emerge, nascent and luminous. No kidding. You don’t have to make stuff up. It’s already there in you, waiting. Dive in!

Just a few minutes of letting go, doing nothing, and watching your breathing, is enough to make a big difference.

Educate

If you’re not sure whether you have anything worthy to add to the existing body of literature, go and find out if it’s true! Read everything you can get your hands on in the genre in which you want to write. And if you haven’t already done so, you might hire an editor to read your stuff and comment. A less expensive way to get feedback (albeit less professional feedback) is to join a writer’s group. Get your stuff looked at by others can be really helpful. Seek out a group of folks who are seriously working to improve their craft, not just munching on muffins and engaging in mutual praise. Go take a writing class and sit in the front row. People who sit in the front row learn more and apply it better.(They also get better grades, I’m told.) Hey, do what works.

Be honest with yourself and the people with whom you are meeting. If it looks like your writing needs work, be willing to pay your dues. You’re a writer! Know your craft.

Write Anyway

If you’ve tried the first two methods and your block still won’t budge, it’s time to blast. Do it anyway. Write anyway. If you want you can start every session with these words: “I don’t think I have a thing to say, and I’m going to write ANYWAY.” Then pick up your pen or put your digits on the keyboard. Write nonsense if you must, but get rolling. You know the drill: three pages a day everyday, no matter what. As American writer Mary Heaton Vorse famously said: “The art of writing is the art of applying the seat of the pants to the seat of the chair.”

Look for stuff out there in the world until you find something really interesting, then write about it — music, art, cars, people, the way your cats curls up to nap. Enter that place you’ve been visiting in meditation, that center of deep trust, and let it do the writing for you. Remember this is not about you being anything or anybody in particular – a writer or even a good writer. It is about fully inhabiting a magical moment: the moment when the invisible makes itself known, when life expresses itself through you in words.

Amanda Lorenzo, the unblocked and uninhibited author of the Runt Farm book series for children, is a former educator, diversity trainer and software maven. Amanda may be found at the official Runt Farm web site, http://RuntFarm.com/.