Writing is an arduous pursuit. Although the finished work may feel like a gentle river flow, the creation often feels like tumbling wandering an endless desert. As writers, we must cultivate resilience to those conditions to prosper. Art demands sincerity, a pure heart if you will, and it will bless the ones with it and torment the others. When misery comes, it is a sign that we are acting out of a tame place and must realign ourselves. Art demands purification, indicating when trauma is near, but healing is up to us.
The Ego War
Like every day, I sat down to write. I created a new file and was prompted to name it. Usually, an idea appears, but not this time. A cork popped from my heart, and tension spewed like a hole in a gas tank. Poison traversed my veins, carrying ache and negativity. I sat paralyzed against the screen. Hostile thoughts crowded my attention. A few minutes ago, I was excited about writing; now, I opened Pandora’s box and wanted to abandon the craft and cry.
“Did I have this little to say?” I thought, “Is that all I am worth?” I wanted to hide from my shameful incapacity by suffocating in pleasures. Then, in a wave of rage, I clicked Enter, creating a new document. A swarm of bats rushed at me as I entered the cave. I trembled, but I got my first blow in.
The blank page was not a friendlier environment. Anxiety made my fingers ten times their weight, and each button press was followed by either “This is shit,” or “You will never amount to anything.” I was the lone soldier deep into no man’s land.
As my eyes became accustomed to the darkness, I discerned my enemy’s face. He was terrified. He fought not to conquer but to protect; I threatened his home. I stopped in my tracks. I wanted to cry again, not because I felt my pain but because I felt his.
What Does It Mean for Us?
Whenever we do work we care for, the fear of failure materializes. We may know that failure is a precursor to mastery while still finding ourselves yielding. The problem is not a lack of knowledge but a shallow perspective and limiting beliefs that indicate a psychological discrepancy. Simply put, we do not create for intrinsic joy but for external achievement.
In maturation, we learn to equate our value with our accomplishments. Failure translated into a loss of community and love. We dragged this belief into adult life and let safety topple purpose. Since the risk of failure is attached to exile, risking it is too daunting. We should examine our beliefs and perspectives and reinstate new ones that accommodate our calling.
We transition to abundance by being gentler with ourselves. Holding the perfection and safe illusion of the ego is a boiling pot of madness. Instead, we accept every moment’s potential and do our best. Not because we have to prove someone wrong or overachieve our peers, but because our craft is essential to our life.
When we take compassionate care of ourselves, like a parent to a child, we create an indispensable source of security. It is from that place that we can contribute the most.