I want to be a writer. I consider myself a writer. I occasionally write. I write for my job. I write wonderful letters and emails to friends. I like to set pen to paper and fingers to keyboard. So, why then do I appear to lack the motivation to sit down and put myself to the task of writing?
My first excuse - I read too much. Sometimes when I get lost in a book or even just contemplate a great paragraph I find myself thinking – why should I bother? There are already a number of fantastic writers out in the world who are combining words into magical phrases that depict amazing inner lives, expansive scenery, or vistas of their imagination. What could I possibly contribute that would be more meaningful than what has already been written?
As I write this I already start to answer my own questions. Sting once said about his music, that it wasn’t the awards or his bestselling albums or any other accolades, it was about the process. The process of writing needs to be the final goal or I will get too caught up in wondering if anyone will ever want to read a word of what I want to say. In a way, it is like knitting socks. There are wonderful socks that can be bought at less cost that it takes to make them, but knitting is about the process. The sitting, the doing, the taking time to be mindful of the stitch and the pattern are about the process. I don’t allow myself to get too caught up in comparing my items to other more talented knitters or else I would begin to deprive myself of the great joy of touching yarn and needle. Writing gives me the same joy when I am mindful of the process rather than the final product.
Another excuse – I think that in order to write properly that I must schedule myself to write at a certain time of day and stick to it like a discipline. I lack discipline. This can be noted in so many aspects of my life. If I had discipline I would be skinnier, I would be healthier, I would have published, I would be a better cello player and weaver.
A very good friend of mine reminded me that I have been disciplined when it really mattered and discipline is what helped me get my degree and move into a career that I really love. The wonderful diversity of my interests is what keeps me from becoming really great at just one. I am a true jack of all trades but master of none. I am easily distracted by the shiny objects of the universe. I want to try everything even if just for a minute. I flit from thing to thing and take great joy in the moment of playing cello, doing yoga, sitting at the loom, reading poetry, hiking, and writing. But I get so overwhelmed by all of the possibilities of life and my own lack of focus on doing just one thing that sometimes I just take a nap and dream about all of the possibilities or spend valuable time contemplating my lack of discipline. Giving my self a break would probably be a good starting point.
I don’t like setting myself up with New Year’s resolutions that are forgotten by Ground Hog’s Day. So I am taking a different tack at this. I will post to my blog when I have something to say that I am interested in saying. I won’t worry if people are interested in hearing it or not. I will write for the pure joy of writing. I know this will spill over into the novel I am writing and that will be a good thing.
There are characters in my head that are just screaming for attention and I can start letting them out one by one or “bird by bird” as Annie Lamott says. I don’t have to follow chapter one with chapter two. I can give myself permission to write a series of vignettes which will fall into some sort of order at a later date. The characters can dictate what is being told and when. I need to listen to them. It is their story, not mine.
It is not easy being a split personality – being divided between a Type A and a Type C. In order to do anything at all I need to convince the Type A part of me that the finished product is not the goal and the Type C part of me that the process needs to be attended to. I need to just “be.”
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