Writing is easy. Just sit in front of a typewriter, open up a vein and bleed it out drop by drop.Red Smith (or, if you argue Ernest Hemingway or Paul Gallico, here’s some interesting reading)
Point: Writing is dang hard! It hurts. Not physically, of course. I don’t feel like someone is literally hitting my hands and soul with a hammer over and over and over. Maybe figuratively.
It does feel like bleeding, again figuratively–there’s aren’t pools of blood on my keyboard. Every time I sit down to write, a part of my soul screams and pulls me away from my computer. “What are you doing?” it shouts. “Don’t you know every time you write, a piece of you sticks to the page?”
I reply with frustration, “Why, yes, soul, it does. And that is okay. There’s enough of you to share with the world.”
Because I believe we are on this earth together to share in each other’s souls. We all have something that can benefit the other. We need each other. We need each other’s talents, each other’s silly quirks, each other’s thoughtful gestures, each other’s love.
And so we share our souls: Our singing talents, our cooking skills, our caring and kind service, our smiles, with each other, with the world.
Don’t ask yourself what the world needs; ask yourself what makes you come alive. And then go and do that. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.Howard Thurman
The most powerful weapon on earth is the human soul on fire.Field Marshal Ferdinand Foch
Writing is how I share my soul with the world. And even though I’ve loved it and have worked on it since I was a little kid staying in from recess to finish my story, it hurts every time. It’s hard. It takes pushing myself to do it.
I hate that, honestly. I’ve mentally berated myself the last few weeks because it takes me way too long to sit down and start writing. “Why can’t I wake up with passion and excitement for my writing every morning and just do it?” I ask. “You had such a great writing session yesterday. Why the procrastination?”
And finally, after a lot of reflection, I have come to the truthful conclusion: A piece of my soul leaks onto each page as I write. And even though in the process I find joy and love for what I’m doing, my soul is confused by this extended piece of itself.
It’s like a good workout. Maybe you can relate, or maybe you’re a super fitness guru who never feels this.
Have you ever awaken in the morning when your alarm clock goes off to tell you to get up and exercise and you’re like, “Um, no thank you.” Maybe you love that exercise thing you do like crossfit or running or swimming or yoga or martial arts. It makes you feel good and you love how strong and flexible it makes your muscles, your lungs, your mind, your body. But, sometimes the motivation is not there.
That was my this morning. I LOVE yoga! I go to a hot yoga class every weekday at 7:15 a.m., so I wake up at 6:30 to get ready, make sure my puppy potties, and get to class a few minutes early so I can savasana/corpse pose in the heated room for a few minutes before class starts. And I feel amazing after. I feel stronger. I feel more flexible. I feel mighty in spirit and mind. Awe! So nice!
But every morning I wake up and just want to go back to sleep. Sleep is good. Sleep is comfortable. Sleep is warm in my covers, with my puppy cuddled up next to me, the puppy who has his own bed but wines at 5 a.m. so I throw him in bed with me ’cause it’s lonely without Chef Comte there right now.
And this morning I felt sore and very tired so when I heard the alarm, I turned it off and rolled over and went back to sleep.
But I love yoga! Why did I miss class?
End Example and Continue with Subject on Writing
Have I made my point? Maybe. Maybe overly so…. 😐 But here are some last words.
Writing is painful. But it is so rewarding. Just like when I do yoga, I feel great during the process. Even though some poses or putting ideas together for that next chapter is uncomfortable, the process of doing it is incredible. I stretch. I am surprised as ideas come together. I’m excited for the next adventure. I feel accomplished. I love seeing the story come together.
You see? Writing is painful. But it is incredibly rewarding.
Okay, enough of that. I need to go work on my book now.