What if you can’t?
That very thing you set out to do; the promise you made to yourself. What if you can’t?
What if the best you can do is stare at the ceiling? Listen to the radiators spewing. Scratch your dog’s head. Read about someone else who could.
Then list a dozen reasons it couldn’t be you.
Is that all you’ve got?
You want to wake up early to write, but you never set your alarm. You tell yourself: Maybe I’ll write after dinner, but you never have. And by Friday night, you let yourself forget there was ever a plan to write at all.
You’d rather ignore the pull than risk following it. It’s safer that way.
How can you fail if you keep both feet on the ground?
This afternoon, I went to a visual journaling workshop (Is “went” the right word when you join over Zoom?). Anyway, it was such a rewarding experience. It reminded me of what it feels like to make time for play (instead of creating for the sake of sharing).
Even when I do something completely outside of writing (like play the ukulele or embroider some fabric) a part of me on some level feels like I’m wasting time because I’m not making money. But this workshop involved drawing with CRAYONS.
My logical brain couldn’t trick my hands into thinking I was trying to start an Etsy empire or sell the scribbles. When I was working with crayons, knew I was only doing this for fun. I could fail freely (after all, as our instructor reminded us throughout, “There’s no wrong way to visual journal.”)
In fact, over the course of three hours, NOT ONCE did I hear the familiar whisper that walks me through my days (you suck, you’re a failure, you’re not enough).
Even though that inner critic has gotten a lot quieter over the years, she’s still present when I least need her. It was nice to be present and playful without fear of judgment or failure.
How can you bring that freedom into your day-to-day life?
“We think we understand the rules when we become adults but what we really experience is a narrowing of the imagination.” — David Lynch
Create for the sake of creating.
When’s the last time you drew with crayons?
Before today, I honestly couldn’t tell you. Heck, even as a kid, if I picked up a crayon it was usually to fill in someone else’s lines. (No wonder creating anything from scratch is so scary.)
After the workshop, I took out a piece of paper and I used some watercolors to make a sunset over an ocean. I spent a good half hour or more blending blues and teals and dashing the sky with pink and orange. Then I ripped it up and threw it away.
Not because it was ugly or because I hated it (or because I’m some Cool Rebellious Artist or something) but because I wanted to remember the power of the process.
Creating is the process. The only part that matters.
All that mess about profits and publishing and what people think—none of it gets you any closer to creating something that matters.
“Make it about what you feel you must do and say, not what you care about and wish to be” — Ryan Holiday, The Ego is the Enemy
