These are some of the words of movement, moving on, going forward.
...dust yourself off and try again
...have to get on the horse
...can't just sit at home and mope all day
...things to do, places to go
...miles to go before I sleep
...You get the idea. These are very good words (sentiments) and can be physically executed if you've the tools to do it. But the question is how to make these words reverberate and act on them when the movement you are pushing toward is emotional? Saying, "I'm moving forward," then actually moving forward are two different things.
It's not writer's block. It's not a lack of thoughts. It's just me standing in a sinkhole, dropping slow inches while I peer into some dense foliage concerned that I can't see the beast waiting for me. If there is one at all. There could also be a parade, behind the curtain of leaves. How will I know? But meanwhile, here I am sinking because at least I can see the sinkhole! It does read sorta stupid of me once I put it out there, doesn't it? At least being eaten by a beast would be interesting. Sinking in a sinkhole? That's just a slow, boring demise. Who needs that?
In writing, it's the scene stuck in my head that I'm emotionally invested in because I either love it, hate it, need it, or I'm confused by it, etc. The first step to getting around this I suppose is to recognize why it's preventing my movement, my progression. Why it (or that I allow it to) holds me back? Lack of understanding? Fear? Pride? Fatigue? Stubbornness? Ooo, how about an unwillingness to let go? Of what? Of this sense of frustration because at least it is something, it's familiar. Beyond it I have nothing waiting or planned. Taking steps into the yonder without an idea of where I'm going (I can't read compasses!), what awaits me (A parade of monsters!?) even while carefully treading. I've only this vague sense of where I want to end up.
Wow. That feels very naked... so this must be my truth! :) Afraid of the risk, dammit I hate that! I believe majority of the time that I like risks. I have taken many quite blithely. They quicken the blood and make the taste of things, sweeter. So why now? Maybe it's because I sense a change in my forest - it's different. Then, I took risks in the comfort of a known setting even with unknown results, I still felt safe...the treehouse was in sight or easy to find (Hmm how much risk is that actually - eh I'll save it for another post. :)). Now, everything here is new and I have no treehouse. It's exciting..but it makes for a bit of a pause.
Well hell, for me the only thing to do is something fun, something drastic to get my blood pumping lose myself in the journey for a while. Get over myself, get out of this sinkhole and step into my unknown prepared for my monster but hoping to join in a parade. On my own or with friends I can't stay here, I've got to keep on moving.
So...wanna go? I'm going to go write something. What will you do?
4 comments:
There's risks, and there's risks. A willingness to, I dunno, head off to Paris to see what's there is a different sort of risk than a willingness to bare your naked soul to the world in your writing. Again, I recommend the book The Courage to Write by Ralph Keyes; I'm happy to lend you my copy if you like.
Me, I'm going to work a little while longer, than I'm going to do some writing of my own.
Yes, I think I would like to borrow that thank you. You're right, it is a totally different sort of risk involved all together, at least for me. I'm happy to go to Paris and find out what's there. Or see Istanbul (not Constantinople :) ). Or explore new places, processes, ideas, methods, meet new people - anything like that. But revealing the self has always been much harder, not impossible, just harder. Still, a sense of adventure goes with it and I do love a good adventure so I focus on that.
And you should be writing. Been reading your excerpt and will tag you later about thoughts. But I must share this one - you definitely should be writing. :D
If the forest is frightening, and there might be a beast out there... pound your chest and let out a roar. You might not feel it, but the act of faking the needed courage can be a path to the real thing.
Thank you, you're absolutely right John. Sometimes the act does help to bring the feeling, a kick start.
So if you hear a loud noise later...well...you know. :)
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