As writers, we fall apart fairly regularly. But I ask you this: Are we falling apart or simply falling together in some strange form? I’ve often heard that to become whole again, you must break apart, loosening bad pieces from the picture, thus create a new puzzle.
As of late, I’ve felt overwhelmed with emotions, many of them are feelings of helplessness and disappointment. Aside from regular assignments which keep me going, I search for the purpose and reasoning that must be there in what I accomplish. Jobs seem scarce and friends keep becoming voices that no longer edify me.
As I allow these feelings to pass through me, as you should do, I take pieces that float along and examine them thoroughly. I ask myself questions:
“Do I need this portion of my life?”
“Is this still fulfilling?”
“Can I leave this portion of my life behind without breaking something within?”
As writers, we are filled with complicated questions and changes. We have heads full of ideas that fight with each other, I can bet, on a daily basis. I remember writing day after day, hour after hour, and it actually helped that my life was falling apart at that time. But the idea was, I knew my life was falling apart and I made peace with that. And so, I could sit for hours in some other land and write to my heart’s desire.
But what about those times when you feel caught in-between building and falling apart and you have this great precipice to jump or this great precipice to turn away from and run back to safety? That’s when emotions rage and war within. Do we starve ourselves for lack of knowledge about our future, or do we gorge ourselves because we know….it’s over? Is it over? Truth is, nothing’s really over, nothing’s really dead…it just changes. This is how we write as well. We adapt.
I think today, I encourage you to enter a place unfamiliar to some of you. It’s a place of uncertainty, and place where creativity also dwells. Maybe you don’t know what tomorrow brings, but your fingers and your mind can still create the beauty you desire. You must adapt to the uncertainty, even as uncertainty bangs and screams at your door.
Maybe you can create a grotto with overgrown cobblestones and hanging foliage. Maybe you can smell those scents of dying summer. Maybe you can hear the birds, feel the breeze on your cheek and hear someone call out to you…
Maybe they will walk out onto that backyard garden and hand you a glass of wine and say,
“It’s beautiful today isn’t it?”
And if you create this…then maybe, just maybe….this is what happened to you this afternoon. And even though you smile and while you both ignore the glaring issues waiting just inside the back doorway, you can take in one moment, you can still write one blissful paragraph about what could be.
If not, that’s okay too.