Today we’d like to introduce you to Meredith Johnson
Hi Meredith, so excited to have you with us today. What can you tell us about your story?
I’m a working mother, artist, studying improviser and wife. I’ve worked in sales and marketing for a decade, the last four in SaaS. My primary creative focus is writing in addition to advanced improv comedy.
Creative expression is my “I am,” my identity. Without the ability to express myself, my truth is suppressed. It’s my pressure valve.
During a free writing period in the fourth grade, I scribbled my first poem. When my teacher, Mrs. Suzy Lynch-Cummings, asked me to stand and read it aloud, that was my first poetry reading. I asked my mom for journals and began filling them up, finding both excitement and solace in the quiet of the pages. If my teacher hadn’t been so enthusiastic, I might not have felt so encouraged. I recently wrote her a thank you note for her impact on my life.
In high school I was active artistically, reading in our school’s talent showcase and entering submissions for our literary magazine, continuing in my community wherever I could find opportunities to read poetry.
After college, I found opportunities to collaborate, do readings, and join in art shows, which was incredible, but I was inconsistent and not really focused. I didn’t really understand what it took to dive in all the way, study, or devote time to my craft. So I would pick up tiny lessons here and there but not amass momentum.
I was introduced to great writers and comedians like Joan Didion, Emily Oliver, Rupi Kaur, Carol Burnette, Gilda Radner, Wanda Sykes, and Jenny Slate, who inspired me. But I didn’t yet have the drive creatively I needed to really infuse life into my projects. Writing was this precious thing I thought I had to almost hoard, as opposed to something I could share and make a mess with, play with, be free with. Not protect. It’s unbreakable. That’s what changed; I realized I wanted to turn it into a genuine part of my life, instead of just talking about it or fantasizing about my dozen half-finished projects.
The times that I’ve paused in doing the work, I’ve become unhappy, restless, discontent. Most of my creative suffering has been caused by these times. Doing it, getting into the flow is where the good stuff is. Stagnation can really develop a kink in the hose, where otherwise all the passion, the best work would get through.
Sharing work takes time and is a process. I try to submit my poems to publications every other month when possible. There are times when the work comes to me and I have to rush to get it down on paper, so I always have a pen and pad on me, but I’ll set certain times for editing only, and then certain times for submitting.
Conversely, pressuring yourself to always be making and creating can be unhealthy; I believe that rest is a necessity. I think there’s a sweet spot. It’s about allowing, never forcing.
A friend and I did Julia Cameron’s twelve-week course, “The Artist’s Way” together. It was transformative. It caused me to examine what I really wanted creatively, and out of life, and what it might cost to get there. With my full-time job and my toddler, that means earlier mornings, more scheduled time alone with the practice, more devotion, and just more of a sense of play. I will probably always be working on that. Sometimes I put on an adhesive mustache to help remind me, when I take things too seriously, which is really very often.
I had always kept journals, but once I began Cameron’s Morning Pages, I became more deeply disciplined because of the daily writing practice, and its introspective nature that challenges your deep-seeded beliefs. And then, more creativity flowed. And suddenly, more passion and openness. I opened myself up more to what I could do if I said yes to what my real interests were, and what might happen if I were brave enough to pursue them.
I have an index card taped to my fridge from a fellow author that reads, “What you would do if you weren’t policing yourself–that’s the feeling you need to follow.” (Ashleigh Renard) And I finally paid attention.
That’s when I started trying out comedy. Stand-up. Open mics. I promised myself I would do it for years, harassed my comedian friends for advice, made them listen to my bits. Improv classes. Going to shows, seeing what was out there. Meeting more comedians, networking, exploring everything I could, what I liked, what I wanted. And my world completely opened up. Just because I started writing more regularly and became more disciplined!
Can you talk to us a bit about the challenges and lessons you’ve learned along the way. Looking back would you say it’s been easy or smooth in retrospect?
I don’t think anyone is afforded a life without struggle, and I’m certainly no exception.
In the art community, I think this narrative that you can’t work a muggle job and maintain your artistry is getting overturned. I think everyone has to do what’s right for them and make their own path, because I’ve seen so many different ways to do it.
Working full time and raising my beautiful son with my generous husband has been both gorgeous and challenging. My art takes a backseat to all of that. I try really hard to stay engaged with my art, which takes a lot of effort and sacrifice, early mornings, late nights, loving support from Patrick, and self-compassion. It’s a devotional practice that requires commitment and patience, usually 4 AM days at my writing desk before my day job to get some art in before getting up with my son at six, and then improv on Wednesday nights and show nights.
But it’s taken a really long time to get there, and I’m not even there yet. I am still on the path, always learning.
In my early twenties, I was a different person–someone I didn’t even know, really, or like. I was almost hollow. No due north.
My life was unmanageable, and I struggled with deep depression and low self-worth. I was irresponsible, negligent, and careless, ruled by my demons.
After enough consecutive low points (years of them), honestly being able to look inside, finding humility, and asking for help was what prompted me to change. My challenges were both a blessing and a curse, deepening my creativity. They paved the path for my greater understanding, and constructed a bigger opening within me to bring me closer to God, to learn who and what I am. .
Can you tell our readers more about what you do and what you think sets you apart from others?
I’m obsessed with words. (Like when I meet someone, I want to know what their name means.) I love the way that they sound, how they roll off the tongue, what they’re like when they’re combined. Even their etymology matters. So poetry is a natural practice for me, deep to my heart. I’m an emotional person, and I can’t change that. I’m what you might call an “easy crier.” I will cry while I’m working, when it hits, when it’s really flowing and coming from that deep place.
Poetry for me comes from that place of relaxing into that feeling, getting internal insight. When I meditate, I try to really let go so I can find out what’s going on with me, what I’m feeling, and connect to that Higher Power. As Joan Didion says, “I write to find out what I’m thinking.”
When I’m stuck, I read other poetry and that really gets the juices flowing. When I’m feeling blocked in other areas, or somewhat sterile, I need that push of art to get me through. I’ll also intervene with other types of art, like cooking and music and gardening to “fill the well,” as Julia Cameron says.
I write poetry about what is moving me at the time. It’s about the darkness of my past and how it has shaped my beautiful now. My impossibly exciting future. The trudging experiences that brought me to God on my knees. My family. The power of nature and the necessity of learning one’s wants. Sexuality, growing up in the South, and what it means to be human. Motherhood, to access your own inner strength. Relationships, fears, love and passion. My son.
I’ve learned to play with rhythm, and when I perform I’m able to share what these poems should evoke, what they mean. I adore it. Taking workshops, regular classes, working with editors and learning from more seasoned, professional writers in my network has helped me to really evolve as a writer. I never want to lose that gusto, that yearning to want more knowledge. To stay curious. There is so much to learn from others and the history of the craft.
In improv, I get to play and let go. It’s a welcome reprieve that I look forward to every week. I get to break free from the cerebral aspect of daily life and come directly from the heart. It’s also been such a community for me and a grounding practice, really. The structure of regular classes and keeping up with my class in our seasons together provided a structure that I wanted and needed. For me, the excitement of the theatre of learning comedy must be balanced by a regular structure to prevent chaos and ensure balance.
But I was hooked in Level 1, class 1 when I couldn’t stop laughing. I’m so grateful to the comedy scene here, like Coldtowne Theater and Fallout Theater especially, for being so wonderful and giving me a space like this to play, to learn, to be creative. I’ve met the most wonderful, kind, talented people. I wouldn’t be surprised if they are making people laugh for decades to come.
Have you learned any interesting or important lessons due to the Covid-19 Crisis?
To say that Covid was really difficult for a lot of people would be a gross understatement, but for me, it helped me realize more of what I need and want, at least creatively. What my soul was lacking.
I learned that I need to devote a lot of time to my creative life to be fulfilled and close to God, since that’s where I find commune. I need a lot of alone time to be able to do that. I really enjoy it, and in fact I crave it. As an extreme extrovert, this was big news to me.
During Covid, I wrote more at once than I ever had. I had more drafted poems and essays than ever before. Hours and hours writing for days on end after being furloughed. I drafted my first book and realized my capacity for deep creative work. I started to understand that my limiting beliefs were really holding me back from my true north and conquering them meant attacking them head on.
It also showed me how creative and driven so many others are. Covid created a necessity for people to make real choices in their lives when they lost their jobs, were furloughed, etc. We’ve seen so many people refuse to shut down, refuse to give up–and start their own businesses. Working in e-com, I got a front row seat to this, and I was so inspired to be able to learn firsthand about these businesses and what motivated the founders to build them.
Pricing:
- Custom Poem: $125
- Poetry Reading – Get in Touch
- Framed Original 5×7: $45
- Framed Original 8×10: $64
Contact Info:
- Website: https://thisismeredith.substack.com/
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/_thisismeredith/
- Facebook: https://www.hatchlingspublishing.com/meredith-johnson
- Twitter: johnsonmeredith19@gmail.com
- Other: https://www.tiktok.com/@_thisismeredith
Image Credits
Aneta Hayne – family portraits
