Let’s face it: the writing life can be difficult. We procrastinate, bargain with the universe, write hundreds of pages no one will read. We judge, discipline, chide, and berate ourselves, and others. We make unfair comparisons, inflate and deflate our work, our efforts. Our egos loom large like monsters, or cower in corners. We recoil from shadows, fight our own wisdom, attempt to flee our pain, but cannot escape ourselves, our lives—alas, our material. And this is the fun part! Add to this wondrous, yet at times daunting, creative process the business of writing and the slippery slope upon which conventional publishing resides. We attend conferences, make pitches, and reach out to agents and editors. Platform-building has become the buzzword every author feels they’re not doing well enough at. We perch ourselves upon social media towers from which we blog, tweet, chat, and update our “status.” It’s exhausting and overwhelming—and it’s also an honor, a privilege, a blessing, and a gift! You don’t get to do this work—play this game—if you’re sick or struggling with life’s basics.
If you’ve been following my blog, you know the past three years have been personally challenging. We’ve had five family deaths. I was executor of a contentious family estate. During this time I developed, and holistically healed, an anxiety disorder. I’ve radically downsized my professional efforts in order to deal with these personal challenges. John Lennon’s quote, “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans,” has crossed my mind many times.
But contrary to how things appear, life is still sweet. I’m learning how to slow down at a very deep and nourishing level. I am discovering what it takes to make peace with what life brings, even when it’s not what I wanted or expected. I’m realizing the importance of honoring life, going with its flow, and cultivating an open, patient, and loving heart.
When I was a child my family used to visit Mitzi and Sherwood, an elderly couple who lived at the beach on New York’s Fire Island. Mitzi was a painter and Sherwood was a sculptor and jewelry-maker. Their house had high ceilings, floor-to-ceiling windows, and art crammed into every nook and cranny. They were an eccentric, white-haired couple who lived and breathed art.
In Sherwood’s studio, one piece of equipment captivated me: a stone tumbler. We’d collect stones on the beach and put them into his tumbler. After days, and sometimes weeks, of being tossed about, these rough stones would emerge from the tumbler as semi-precious, polished stones ready to be made into jewelry. The transformation was amazing.
Lately I’ve been feeling a lot like those stones. What if life is the tumbler creating the friction needed to transform me into a human version of those polished stones? Some might think it’s a cliché to say our challenges are opportunities in disguise, but I disagree. Although my writing career hasn’t been going like gangbusters these three years, the lessons I’m learning will illuminate my writing—and my life—for years to come.Nietzsche said it best: “That which does not kill us makes us stronger.”
It’s always a matter of keeping things in perspective. When your writing life starts to lag, or feel difficult, discouraging, or frustrating, count your blessings. Appreciate your health, as well as the freedom you have to engage in this noble work.
I’d love to hear from those of you who have soldiered on in the face of personal challenges, and what you’ve learned along the way. Please share your wisdom and your light!
Calliope Lappas: Thanks for your comment. I find what you say about writing obstacles very interesting. I'm going to think about that. I wonder if these challenging life events are indeed obstacles, or if they are somehow part of a larger process. And I also sometimes think maybe I'm not supposed to be writing a particular project all the time. For example, I think I've been LIVING the last section of my memoir. Sometimes we're simply not ready or prepared to work on a particular project, but I know this is a slippery slope, because procrastination is a real threat for many writers.
I'm going to check out your blog. Yes, platform-building is a marathon, not a sprint. Sounds like you're on your way!
Anne Louise O'Connell: Oh how wonderful! I love that! Thanks for sharing. :)
Thank you for sharing this wonderful blog! It comes at a very challenging time on my end as well, as I learn to navigate a new reality of a family member's health struggles. Interestingly, it's also a time when I've just come out of an incredible Writer's Workshop that's given me great tools and inspiration to move me forward on my writing journey. But now with everything at once, the push and pull to focus on one thing or another is in full force. The 'obstacle' in my path to writing is now disguised as a family issue, but it's technically no different than any of the many other 'obstacles' to writing I've encountered before. I know the answer is that I just have to keep writing regardless. And like you so beautifully said, keeping things in perspective and practicing gratitude are key and will make all the difference.
On a separate note, you mentioned the idea of "Platform" and writer's building platforms - this was discussed a lot in my Writer's Workshop. While I hadn't given it too much thought before, I realized that I have been doing that all along in a small way with my blog www.nymuse.typepad.com But it needs a lot of time and effort to really create a great platform. I'm hopeful that this will come too, in its own time and in its own way.
You're welcome! Getting back on track. I just got off the phone with my 91 year old mother who reminded me, 'That which doesn't kill you makes you stronger.' So, my weekly therapy session with my guru on the mountaintop left me smiling and facing the day with a refreshed outlook!
Anne O'Connell: Thank you for your supportive and thoughtful comment. I wish you all the best as you make your way back to your bliss!
Thank you for this post Bella and for sharing your struggles. It is difficult to continue writing when you're actually in the tumbler though. I find I have to wait until the edges have been filed down and the dullness buffed into bright before my head is clear enough to concentrate on my WIP. Like you, I've spent most of the past few months in the tumbler and beating myself up over not making the progress I had planned on two major writing projects. But, you are absolutely right... these life experiences are what enriches our writing. I just wish it didn't have to hurt so much!
Mary Ellen Latela: Thank you very much. I appreciate your thoughtful response. I'm learning that grief takes time, and I've been tending it. I've sometimes wondered, how do I feel my pain without building a shrine to it? And yes, play is vital. And nature. I've taken hundreds of walks!
Bella, those challenging times come up from time to time, and one may be tempted to stop writing or to take a "sabbatical" until life gets better. I don't think this is helpful. I myself have cut out some activities which depleted my energy and gave me no joy. However, more than ever, I believe I must write, as scheduled. Except for emergencies, someone has to navigate the boat.... and I don't swim. Those mini-vents are valuable. Put them together and you can move on with self-understanding and self-forgiveness.
I hope you are attending to your grief. Grief takes its time ... it cannot be rushed and it's not an orderly process. I hope that you have found little corner of your world in which you can "play," whatever that means to you. Taking walks, listening to "nature," can really help. Best wishes and keep up your courage. Mary Ellen