Another Glimmer of Profoundity
Posted on January 29, 2008
Filed Under Blogroll, art, career, resolutions | 11 Comments
I need to thank ByJane today for her terrific post on embracing the process. She describes herself as coming from a family of strivers, people who appreciate the end game, the product more than the process, people who believe that there must be a reason to do something to make it worthy of the effort. I am, by nature, this person – task oriented, greedy for approval, constantly striving to complete things I have started.
In tennis for instance, I enjoy the workings of the game, the serves, the cross court returns and the half court volleys, but the reason I go back week after week is not because of the process, it is because I am driven to improve, I am obsessed with winning. I work to become THE tennis player. It’s an end game of sorts. It’s ridiculous now that I am 34 and my chances of winning a Grand Slam title are nil. But I’m driven there, towards some sort of completed tennis product.
The same can be said of every task I set out to do. That’s why I enjoy cleaning and cooking. The goal of cleanliness or a delicious meal is easily attained. It’s an hour or two of exertions and I’ve achieved a finished product. I like that these domestic tasks are tidy and controlled and doable.
But when it comes to writing, this is where the whole thing breaks down for me. If I sit in front of the computer everyday and strive to complete a novel, then everyday is a disappointment. If I look too hard for the purpose in blogging, for a reason to continue to read and write about daily meanderings, then, again, everyday can be considered a failure. But why do I need to feel that I am doing something useful, achieving something? The process of writing should be good enough, why do I need a destination?
For the past few months I have been revealing to family and friends that I am working on a novel. I thought it would help to say it out loud. I thought I needed to have people to hold me accountable. I have declared a destination and people I see on a daily basis might ask me from time to time about how it’s going on the road toward completion. And until By Jane’s post I couldn’t understand why, ever since I opened my big mouth about working on a book, I haven’t completed even a page of writing toward that end. I see now that it’s too big, too expectant, too impossible a task. It’s something I can’t complete today so I put off for tomorrow. What dangles before me is not the carrot but the stick. I need to let go and rediscover the process. So what if I don’t complete that novel? What if I wake up tomorrow and begin revisions and decide the whole thing is absolute shit and cast it aside to write one more blog entry about my children or my marriage or, god forbid, tennis? What if, what if, what if? I’m saying it here because By Jane has inspired me to do so. Who the hell cares if I finish that novel this year, next year, never? If I feel inspired to write about the bag of frozen meatballs I bought yesterday on my way home from the kids’ piano lesson then there is reason enough in that.
I have read that writing is a whole lifetime and a lot of practice. It is less urgent than just necessary. I’ll share a passage from a book for writers called, “Writing Down the Bones” by Natalie Goldberg. If this doesn’t give us bloggers a reason to be than I don’t know what will,
“Our lives are at once ordinary and mythical. We live and die, age beautifully or full of wrinkles. We wake in the morning, buy yellow cheese and hope we have enough money to pay for it. At the same time we have these magnificent hearts that pump through all the sorrow and all the winters we are alive on the earth. We are important and our lives are important, magnificent really, and their details are worthy to be recorded. This is how writers must think, this is how we must sit down with the pen in hand. We were here; we are human beings, this is how we lived. Let it be known the earth passed before us. Our details are important. Otherwise, if they are not, we can drop a bomb and it doesn’t matter.”
Today I am writing for writing’s sake. Today I accept what is and put down it’s truth. And hopefully, tomorrow and the day after tomorrow, I will remember to do this too.
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