Writing Difficulties and Trusting in the Process
It’s always around this time of year that I get stuck. I feel compelled to write yet don’t know what to say because well, I don’t have all the answers.
The writing always starts off confident and sure of itself but slowly, it turns into feeling full of itself because who the hell knows anything (about anything) when it comes to life?
This is the voice in my head that circles every time I want to share an experience or an idea. That voice loves to remind me how I’m just figuring this stuff out and who am I to talk to others about it? But also, who am I not to?
Fluxing
This is life, right? The flux, the inbetween. The confident and self-conscious. If I told myself I’ll only write about topics and ideas I’ve conquered, then you might never hear anything from me. At the risk of sounding cocky, that would be a shame.
Not because I personally have so much to offer the world but because there is something unique inside of me that has to write. The urges and desires we’re born with are specific directions that lead to our purpose, what we’re meant to contribute in this world.
Ignoring these urges pushes your purpose further away. They cannot push them away forever though because the desires of your soul never disappear. They are planted inside you.
I often question this feeling and where it comes from because it’s not meek. There are moments when it feels as though it’s screaming at me. Coupled with an inability to write, these two forces feel as though they are opponents trying to destroy me.
current mood board
*All images are sourced from Pinterest
I’ve always loved the process of creation. I love being around people who create beautiful things. Whether it’s art, fashion, or fine jewelry, I’m in awe of what people go through to turn thoughts into tangible delicacies. As someone who’s been trying for years, I realize how magic and elusive it can all be.
It’s like watching a magician perform a trick. You so desperately want to know how he did it but if you knew, it would be ruined.
I’m beginning to see that my struggles are my gift. Talking about what’s hard for me in the most honest way possible feels like my art. I wouldn’t be able to dive this deep with just anybody, but within this Google document, I feel safe.
The separation between my immediate reality, sitting alone behind a screen, and the broader reality doesn't seem to frighten me. I can spill out my guts for the world of the internet to see and it doesn’t scare me.
In the middle
Getting to this place was hard. I have spent years writing things I thought people wanted to hear and still do. Pieces that cover the surface or paint a pretty picture without the harsher details.
Asking myself “what do people want to hear?” instead of “what do I need to say?” is part of my makeup as this wanting-to-be-loved member of society.
Going back to this need I believe most women have, of wanting to nurture and give others what they need to be useful. It feels selfish to write what I want but I think this is the key to creativity. It’s not about me. It’s what needs to come through me.
For some, this idea of “coming through you” might be a little woo-woo. But I first heard this concept connected to the art world. The story goes that Michelangelo never thought he created the David. He knew that the David was already in that hunk of stone before him, it was only his job to chip away the excess covering it up. He didn’t take full credit because he knew this gift was being lent to him.
When we work on anything we love this away, it takes a great deal of stress off. The idea that you’re here to bring things to life that have already been conceived allows the mind to run free without worry or doubt.
I suggest you try this idea on for size during your next project. I’m not saying it’s not annoying. I spent an hour just looking at a plain Google doc, then wrote out three different ideas before this one finally came. You have to trust yourself, which is never an easy thing to do.
All the love,
jodi x