I used to fancy myself a poet. Then I read a series of poems by Susan Musgrave and realized how naïve I was to believe such a thing. So I stuck with writing, and fancied myself a writer, until I read Aurora’s words, mysterious and resonating, still bitter from the breakup in January.
A while ago, it felt like I ran out of things to say. Now I realize that it’s not a lack of subject matter, but a lack of conviction.
Even as recent as January, Dave Seah, prolific creator of the Printable CEO, Procrastinator’s Clock, and fellow 9ruler, said that I wrote with “literate-yet-conversational intensity, the kind of writing that sounds good when spoken aloud”. Now my entries are dry and technical, devoid of the intensity I used to feel, and I fear that it’s a reflection of myself.
Maybe this is why I’m so quick to embrace my moods and emotions. They let me write the way I used to, with the lyrical quality and style I once enjoyed.
So I sit here, with the lights out and Leonard Cohen on, the early folk stuff before he went synth in the 80s, songs of love and hate, windows open to the night, trying to recapture the passion that drove me to write when I started this blog.
I’m not a writer. I can’t write.
I’m simply a thinker, with the need to express himself.
A man without a dream shall perish, or so says an old book of proverbs I like to crack open once in a while. The question is what are your dreams? Therein will you discover your passion, your love, your hate, and loathing, and ecstasy, and anger, and joy, ant the rainbow of emotion that transforms us from human beings to beings with an infinite will towards understanding at least once in our lives, and more if we seek it out. I’ll venture to guess the words you seek are also there, even if you’re not a writer, even if you believe you can’t write.
Of course, when not a writer then a reader be. Thought needs to be fed, lest it starve, weaken and die a televised death.
And for the record, everyone goes through that once in a while. Sartre talked about it all the time. It’s the nausea which we sink to and rise from in between the peaks of elation. In the end, however, you are responsible for all action, since all options are always open to you, in one way or another. What your mind does — well, that you can only control to a certain extent. Keep thinking.
I was just reading your linked post on having run out of things to say, and the first thought that came to mind was: “maybe make some stuff up.” Not LIE, mind you, but treat yourself to a baffling experience or two, push the boundaries of sanity. I get the feeling that you’d benefit from some unexpected inputs, and this is within your grasp. It may be horrible, it may be hilarious, but I’m sure your well-developed mind will naturally distill the experience into truthful words.
I’m going through a phase of writing that feels very sloppy, less coherent than I know it could be. I’m writing late at night while I’m sleepy, and am posting without doing second or third drafts. I’m becoming practiced in making myself more vulnerable, and instead of killing me, it’s made me more resilient. Part of me is horrified, of course, especially when I compare what I’ve been writing to the craft with which someone like you posts, but then again I’m a different these days, writing for a different purpose. When I started, I wrote for myself to find my own truth. Now, I write for an extended group of friends I’ve never met, and I let a little of that vulnerability show through through bad grammar and awkward turns of phrase. This makes me more approachable, and to my surprise I am discovering that I like it. I’m not saying this is what YOU need, but I am imagining that you have an interesting tension between the desire for intimacy and the need to control how you’re perceived. To what end, I am not sure.
1) Don’t judge yourself by other writers.
2) Don’t judge yourself at all.
3) Pause and then…. play. Learn to play. Unlearn the learned nonplaying we think is merit.
Play.
And you’ll create.
@Gnorb — I’ve learned to accept the frustration of disappointments. I’ve lost the excitement of achieving something, because with enough work put into something, the results are only logical. The rainbow of emotion has escaped me lately.
I’ve had the same dreams for as long as I can remember — to be a director, a composer, a published writer, a tai chi master — but I don’t work towards them with the same fervour that I once did. Perhaps a new-found sense of patience or humbleness or maybe even practicality has done this. I understand that as I pursue all these things, I’ll never be outstanding in any one of them. If you chase two rabbits, you lose both.
You’re right though, I’m definitely going through some sort of writers block. Maybe it’s because I stick to a certain writing schedule, which I’ve decided to abandon for now. Ironically, I think my frustration about this block has made for a pretty good entry.
@Dave — Your comment made me think if, as of late, I’ve accepted an average life. I haven’t pushed the boundaries for a while. Perhaps I’ve simply achieved too much stability. It’s definitely something for me to keep in mind as the summer approaches.
It’s an interesting idea that you make yourself vulnerable through your writing, not just through content, but your mistakes. It’s like letting down your guard. It makes me wonder how much I care about being perceived a certain way.
@Xibee — I don’t think I judge myself so much as compare. I know it’s wrong, that there will always be someone out there who is better, but it’s in my nature. When I see something beautiful, it’s not uncommon for me to be both inspired and discouraged at the same time.
stability is good. at the same time, stability is predictable. your life stagnates; without some level of unpredictability in your life, there are no new problems to be solved. i do not agree with your statement: “with enough work put into something, the results are only logical.” to reach a goal, you may and probably will encounter many tiny obstacles preventing you from reaching that goal, and each provide a certain level of angst that must be fought before you can win. our struggles are what make us grow, what help you write your beautiful entries. you’re suffering from writers block, you have no new obstacles to face at the moment, and it’s not something to be ashamed of–as somebody mentioned previously, we all go through these phases. at some point, you will be inspired to challenge yourself again. and if not, then change something up in your routine, and hope that you discover something new in the process. that is the only way i have learned to live.
whatever…
remember YOU are your worst critic…
I’m sure many of your close frineds would beg to differ…
you ARE an artist…
unless you don’t consider photography an art…
which would be…dumb..
I enjoy your photos, I’m one of many who do..
you may not paint with a brush , but you have an artists eye.
as far as writing..
If you weren’t a good writer, if you didn’t express yourself the way you do..I wouldn’t have kept coming back to read more.
An author? perhaps not, but you are a writer !
so, keep on…
@tina — You’re right, kiddo, I think I’ve come to a point where I’ve reached a bit of stagnation. Perhaps I’ve been putting all my challenges and obstacles aside for my recent hedonism. I haven’t been struggling enough, I haven’t been growing.
Hopefully there’ll be something new in the summer. There are a few projects I’ve been meaning to dive into, and the prospect of starting something new is filling me with excitement.
@amy — I suppose I am my own worst critic. It’s hard for me to judge myself; I do so harshly because at the same time, it drives me to be better, but I guess there’s a balance between being inspired and being discouraged.
Stephen King said, “Read four hours a day and write four hours a day. If you cannot find the time for that, you can’t expect to become a good writer.” I believe it. I’m not a good writer or photographer, because I spread myself too thin and don’t focus. I wouldn’t really consider someone an “artist” unless they made money off their work. Perhaps an amateur writer or photographer.
Still, it’s nice to think that there are those who enjoy what I do write and photograph enough to keep coming back.
wanna GROW ???
have you picked up Eckhart Tolle’s book yet?
“The Power of Now”
challenge yourself!
see if you can do it
live in the NOW
and until you read that book, your perception of what that means is limited.
That’s been my challenge lately..
NOT to let my mind race off into the future, or ponder too muchover the past, or even over what’s just happend, but to really be HERE , right now and aware.
talk about growth
hee hee
A few thoughts come to mind
Pressure and inspiration don’t always mesh well. Give it time.
When things go flat for me, I realize I’ve fallen into romancing the trauma. There’s a restlessness with lack of intensity but intensity comes back like a bad penny. One viscerally needs down time.
A writer to my mind needs to be a thinker and an expresser. Literary device is nice, a polish, an angle, but ideas are the foundation.
@amy — I know, the book is still on my list. My writers block has come with hours spent staring at my computer, getting nowhere, leaving me little time to read.
@Pearl — I remember that pressure was great in school. I’d always leave things to the last minute, and it’d force me to get things done. At work, however, it’s opposite. The pressure is just stress. After reading your comment, I realized that in certain situations, such as at work and writing, pressure stifles creativity. Maybe I’m putting too much pressure on myself.