Tonight, I wanted to write. I was craving the endorphin rush that I get when I finally am able to hit publish after writing and editing a piece, but for the life of me I couldn't get the words to start to flow. I sat for 6 hours staring at the blank page, engaged in a struggle of wills against a white rectangle. I tried what I considered to be everything I could think of to help: I looked up writing prompts, I pulled out a small book that I carry where I jot down ideas of things I should write about in the future, I even spent a half hour talking into my voice recorder about a short story that I have been wanting write for a long time. Even after finding all this 'inspiration', I still could not get the words to start coming.
My mind was racing. I feared that the fact that I couldn't figure out anything to write would keep me up all night, so I got back up out of bed and started trying to force creativity into the barren white box. I still couldn't get it to work. I would get two or three paragraphs into an essay and just can the entire thing. I knew what I was writing was garbage, it had no soul, it didn't mean anything. It was simply words for the sake of words.
Disheartened by my inability to get anything meaningful written, I gave up on writing for the night and decided that I was going to try and help my mind relax by playing some video games, but I stopped myself. Video games are a treat I prefer to give myself when my mind is at ease, when I feel I am allowed to reward myself for a 'Job Well Done' someplace else in the day. I knew that I hadn't accomplished anything meaningful, and hadn't accomplished anything meaningful for a few days. I had been letting myself slip into that comfortable routine of just escaping into some fantastical world where my life doesn't exist, where I can convince myself that the things I want to get done will get done tomorrow. I also knew that sitting down and mining ore as a digital avatar wouldn't sate that thirst that I had to create something.
Instead I forced myself to pull up my kindle and read a bit out of Steven King's book " On Writing". I had to have a serious conversation in my head that I give a shit about my writing, and I want to keep working my craft, so if I was going to do something to give my mind a break, it might as well be something that will help better me as a writer.
I got a few pages in and inspiration hit me, obviously so because here I am letting the words flow. I had bought the book a few months ago, and because life is just life sometimes, never gave my chance to even begin to dig into it. I didn't forget about it, I just knew that the book would be sitting there waiting for me, and when the mood was right, I would have an intimate class with one of my favorite authors. It wasn't so much the information that was contained in the digital tome that inspired me though, it was that the act itself triggered the truth in a bit of advice that I have given to quite a few people.
It should be apparent by the way that I approach my subject material, that the pursuit of bettering oneself and chasing after the things that I want is a very important part of the life that I find myself currently living. I write these essays in a hope to share some inspiration with the people who take the time to read them, and have the capacity to understand the messages that they contain. Because of this, close friends will lean on me as a beacon of inspiration at times. I am not going to sit here with hubris and proclaim that I am a Master of 'Carpe Diem", but in this society the simple act of even trying shows a lot about a persons character.
The topic of conversation that I am referring to, is people who have an obvious drive to make their lives better, but feel lost among the waves and can't seem to find a direction in which to swim. To these people who I can see fighting I always offer the same advice. "You need to change things up. Do something different for the sake of doing it, bury yourself in something you care about and ignore the rest of the world for a little bit. Take one of those things you have been wanting to do and just do it." I benefited from my own advice tonight, and I share it hear as a testament to how relieving it can be to have that moment where things start clicking together.
The truth is, I don't read nearly as much as I should. I went through a Renaissance of sorts before I started writing more frequently where I was introduced to the Romantic Poets. I was completely overwhelmed and inspired by their works, and if you have ever read Emerson, you can see where I draw inspiration from his style. I went through a brief period of time, a few weeks to be more exact, where I was digesting Romantic literature at a frantic pace. From there, I had an incredible urge to just read, read, read. I had created a new cycle in my life where I was reading great works as my pass time instead of just escaping into a screen. It faded though, my thirst was quenched for the time being, and I slipped back into the activities that were more comfortable to me.
The problem, which I realized tonight, is that I actually forget about how much satisfaction I was getting in the amount of reading I was doing. That trope of life occurred where I read a string of stories that didn't really resonate with me, and that fiery passion for literature was all but snuffed out. Maybe I got prideful, letting the positive responses from the work I have done so far convince me that I didn't need to be doing as much 'research' as I was doing, foolishly letting myself believe that I had enough profound knowledge to continue writing pieces I was proud of based on a false notion of how vast my life experience is.The truth is, chasing after the things you want is rarely easy. "Nothing worth having is easy" they say, and the second you start getting lazy, those things slip further and further out of your reach.
So the point of this story, is I write for those people who have the drive to better themselves, who want nothing more than to get to that place that they want to be. Your moment of weakness, if I can even be brave enough to call it that, is not something you suffer alone. Part of the journey of being a true person is the hardships we deal with along the way, the things that try to hold us back from getting there. Sometimes they come from outside forces, but a lot of the time we are our own worst enemies. The thing to remember is to not get discouraged, to not let yourself get so frustrated that you can't figure it out that you just stop trying. When things do build up to the point where you can't see the answer, just fold up your hope and place it in a little box. Keep that box close by, and go do something else productive. Maybe that thing is sorting through the clutter in your apartment, maybe its balancing your bank account and paying off some bills, or maybe it's something enjoyable yet unrelated to what you think will help you on your personal quest. You never know, you could have your moment of clarity while plotting out the garden you will plant in the spring, or maybe your grand purpose in life will become clear after nailing a song at karaoke.
I am a firm believer that the world will show you the answers when you are ready to receive them, and all the little things that your gut told you to do will pay off at some point. So just keep following the path towards your happiness, and when you get stuck, just do something else that makes you happy to shake things up a bit.
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