What would happen if we quit every time it was hard to learn a skill?
Like writing. When my writing is stuck, I feel frozen.
If at first I don’t write something good, I try,try, again, like a masochist who keeps going to the dentist for the pain.
I stress out that my writing won’t resonate with anyone, and throw crumpled papers on the floor.
My dentist’s receptionist says she enjoys reading my blog, so does the hygienist; I don’t want to clean other people’s
teeth — but if they love to do it, that’s the coolest job in the world.
As babies we suffer through the agonizing process of teething, until swollen gums and screams are replaced by
toothy smiles. As we grow, those teeth become loose, and make way for bigger, stronger ones.
Similar to the process of becoming a writer.
You must endure the pain of doing bad writing in order to get better.
Start somewhere. Start anywhere. Start where you are, with what you have.
That’s how you learn what works and what doesn’t.
Don’t pass judgement.
Be fearless.
Miles Davis said:
“Do not fear mistakes, there are none.”
Keep writing even if nobody likes what you write. Even if you don’t like what you write.
Don’t lie in bed worrying that your creativity is gone. That will leave holes in you like the ones left by your wisdom teeth.
Don’t wait for a muse to inspire you. The tooth fairy for adults is busy…simply start writing!
Writing isn’t supposed to be perfect, or forced.
If you try to force your writing, it will knock your teeth out.
“Great works are not performed by strength, but by perseverance.”
You can be boring, discouraged, and full of writer’s envy, but hold on to your vision to write anyways.
Your self-critic accuses you of having nothing interesting to write and asks: “Who do you think you are?”
You don’t have to be the greatest writer that ever lived to write something.
At the moment the writing struggle starts to wear you out, you develop a resiliency that renews you, and inspiration does the writing for you. Then you are fit for the next writing challenge.
Bad times fade. Take a snow day to read a book and get unstuck.
You gain momentum to get you back to stardust and wonder.
It’s like finally finding your pen in the snow. Bringing it inside warms the ink. You draw a scribble to test it, and the melted ink oozes freely.
A voice says: “change that, copy someone you admire, use your voice, even if it is immature, or rusty, or shy. Right now. Where you are.”
After all, Nobody else has ever written it quite like You, nor ever will.
previously published on medium.com/ photo credits: imgur, unsplash - LeslyBJuarez, Aaron Burden
