So...do you think it's possible to write a blog about writing when one hasn't become a "real" writer? I mean..not that many people really know of me. I'm a lone ship sailing in a sea of writers too numerous to count. Why do they get to where they want to go and all I do is tack back and forth across the bay? This photograph captures how I feel about myself as a writer. I have spent years going back and forth in a small section of the sea trying different maneuvering techniques, fine tuning, and trying my hardest to believe in my path. I don't sail too far out before coming in again and cleaning things up and putting the boat to bed for the night. Cliches? Metaphors? What I'm trying to say is I practice writing with small ambitions instead of having grand illusions about the whole thing. Why? Because the smaller the sea, the smaller the expectations, the more finely nuanced the work. Spread yourself too far and wide to try and capture an audience and you forget the real reason for writing...to give of yourself. And to know yourself is to know the truth or the solidarity and the nuance of self. I believe we can all write. All of us. But can we write what lies hidden? To do that takes self refection, sure, but it also takes numerous trips back and forth across the page until we get the courage to reveal.
It's a cliche to address patience. Isn't it obvious that writers need patience, struggle with patience, ask for patience of themselves and when giving advice to other writers? Patience is not easy. We all know this. But what if patience wasn't what we need? Could it be that we need hope? Trust? A willingness to believe in yourself, and that you may just have something to say, only goes so far. All writers want recognition. But the journey always starts out as a solo venture. Always. And then when it is no longer a solo venture you will share. When will that be, you ask? When one person shares. And another. But writers must share of themselves first.
With a little luck and a lot of faith one can write. See themselves as a writer. When I say luck I mean just that. It takes perseverance and fortitude and a willingness to spend more time alone then you think you're capable of to become a writer. It takes luck. It takes all the stars to align to put you in the frame of mind to believe in yourself enough to throw yourself out into the world and give of yourself. You can't hide when you present yourself. And if the stars didn't align it wouldn't be possible. But how can you put yourself in alignment with the stars? How can you trust that what you write has any merit? Will anyone care? How many "likes" will I get, you ask yourself. There will never be enough "likes" to satisfy a writer who needs self congratulations. I am learning this the hard way. There are never enough "likes." And yet I soldier on. Why? Because if I don't believe in myself who will? I am the star to align with myself.
Writers write to help others, but before we can help others we need to help ourselves. Writers instinctively know this, but we're afraid of the silence. We want to perform and be heard. Intrinsically, we fight this. We love to grow and shape shift and listen to our own muse in the space we call writing, but there are times when the muse is silent. And the silence, deafening, disheartening. Listening to the song, the cackle of a hen, the lilt of a cardinal, I'm reminded that although I may at times be in silence, I am still growing, shape-shifting. The world is a cacophony of music and every once in a while I'm reminded to listen.