“We speak upon fragments of tethered norms; the estrangement of our greatest desires.” — raizok
As writers, we often experience moments of incredible self-awareness and insights that are excitedly borne out from our creative imaginings. The unexpected arrival of the muse, the spark which threatens to (and often, does) consume the world around us by it’s flame, returns once again to expose profound truths of simplicity by which we feed and nurture our souls.
Such as it is with myself, as I rush to the computer to pin down the elusive unicorn who wandered into my midst; I get these flashes of excitement coursing through my veins, sometimes gushing, over every part of my being. A part of me recognizes the value of what I am experiencing, and is filled with a raging desire to express the God-like revelation that I’ve been given.
For me, though, since my personal reality is different than that of others. The way I have been raised, the passions and interests I’ve pursued, and the many other variables that characterizes a unique individual such as you and I; all play into the significance of whatever inspiration we’ve been given.
My thought came about while watching the movie, “What Dreams May Come” starring Robin Williams. I didn’t get very far into the film. The muse came on suddenly, like the crack of unexpected thunder, making Herself known with the pomp and circumstance befitting that of a queen.
And that is when I rushed to the keyboard.
My thought was this. Writers, good writers, often are authors who are willing to be painfully honest and vulnerable in what they say.
I won’t afford to call myself good yet, if only for reasons of modesty and having compared myself to others I’ve read and remain humbled by.
This brought me to a further realization of myself. That in each of the letters I type to arrange into words, and then into sentences and paragraphs; I am secretly looking to cultivate public approval without realizing the true motivation behind my wanting to write.
As writers, we are expected to have a way with words if we want to attract the attention of our audience. We are to appear fascinating, entertaining, educational and able to describe with expertise, the nuances of the way that we feel when we put our hearts into words, and present our findings for the world to see.
This post, is an experimental one for me to attempt. Often as writers, we create a buffer between raw emotion and feeling with the adoption of a manufactured persona. Choosing to construct and adopt a detached voice that curates the information we wish to present without revealing the bias and weaknesses of our true selves.
This can be either the result of fear, or of prudence, as vulnerability is not nearly as necessary when crafting works of fiction. Yet, we run the risk of revealing too much about ourselves when choosing to speak freely.
However, there are those who appreciate writers courageous enough to embrace and share their vulnerabilities.
They are rare gems to be found.
Part of the flash of inspiration I’ve had, dealt with the viability of writing for a living. Constructing a work of length and passion takes serious commitment with no guarantee of it being well-received should it get published.
If it gets published.
This, I think, is the core uncertainty aspiring writers have had to deal with at one time or another. That moment of reflection, where you wonder why energy is being expended to create something you can’t correctly assess the value of.
Will your words make enough of a difference to earn a living by? Is it worth taking the time to try?
Such a haunting truth for us to confront. Not an easy one to confess towards either, as mainstream perception often is that artists and writers already are well-off with whatever they (may) have been paid for, regardless of the actual amount. It is true that not much is made from selling music albums alone, but from branding and merchandise, promoting and going on long tours. The commitment is immense for those that are truly inspired.
So it is for many writers, I suspect. That yawning abyss of doubt and rejection can swallow our dreams whole if we aren’t mindful of where we stand. It then becomes a test of faith that the writer must pass if they are to continue further.
The abyss requires sacrifice, a demonstration, or a well-reasoned argument before it can be convinced to spare and welcome a visitor of ambition.
These are a few of the sobering thoughts I’ve received, and for the longest time, I did not show vulnerability with writing that is freely available to the public. For me, my source for depositing the rawness of feelings and thoughts — has always been the private blog I contribute towards in times that I need a canvas for personal examination and exploration.
I question if I should measure success by the number of followers I have or by the amount of claps I receive. Exposure is not the truest indication of value, as anyone who has read Fifty Shades of Gray, can attest.
A day ago, my girlfriend planted the seed of these thoughts before it sprouted into what you are now reading. She suggested I be true and authentic to myself. Not to be seeking the constant approval or admiration of others.
She was loving enough to tell me the hard truth of how to be. That a soul which yearns to express and is given no voice, remains forever haunted by the betrayal it causes in choosing to remain silent.
For many of us, we then look to a compromise between sharing the fullness of our being, and keeping a safe protective distance so that we do not feel the pain and humiliation of sharing our sufferings and traumas.
This is not how we as writers, should write. Adopting the inauthentic voice, and dressing ourselves in rags to pretend loudly to others that we are clothed in rich furs. It is the tale of the Emperor who has no clothes, by which we work to convince others of our worth.
The ego can be a difficult beast to battle against. A constant need for approval can severely impact the honesty and truth of whatever it is we wish to express.
The more shocking and provocative, or intelligent and insightful we are, the more we acquire attention.
The more loved we’ll be.
The better we’ll feel about ourselves.
And that was the chain of thought which prompted me to write this post.
It was the message of a great and simple truth coming down from an unseen heaven:
Always be who you are and never apologize for speaking your truth.
Do not adopt the inauthentic voice in order to appease or impress.
As artists, poets, writers, musicians and those of us who have a deep and unquenchable love for the arts; we have the unspoken obligation to return the blessings bestowed upon us by great works that have inspired and moved us.
One such example of this, is music. When we experience something that sets our souls afire and momentarily raises our spirits; we may succumb to the urge of charity. To reward because we ourselves have been rewarded.
We come across works of inspiration and wonderment all the time. Living in times where the internet offers us unprecedented access to works of art created in the last hundred years and beyond.
Thanks to the digital age, we can now perpetually be in wonderment of the creativity that mankind has produced. We can go from Miles Davis, to Salvador Dali, Dead Can Dance and Rumi; to being surprised by musicians like these:
Anywhere, at any time.
For myself, whenever I am in awe of beauty, I feel the urge to meet it with a beauty as matching as its own.
And the struggle, I realize, is that we either seek the approval of others, or we seek the approval of ourselves.
For the aspiring writer, I think we are meant to give without the expectation of reward.
For writing is its own reward.
Thank you Fola.
