The Writer and the Phoenix

I'm one of those writers that has long periods where I write nothing at all, staring at a blank screen, biting my lip and wondering why I bother trying to tell stories at all.  I sink into deep bouts of discouragement where I can't escape apathy, dragged into a mood where I simply don't care about the words I create, I can't get a grip on my ideas, my characters, my prose, and I feel them slipping out of my mind into that black space at the back of your existence where all dead thoughts go.
At these points, I begin to question myself, I ask, "What if I'm not really meant to write at all?"  Because can you stink so low there is a point of no return?  I always ask myself -- though, for a 15-year-old to ask such questions of himself is indeed quite silly -- the terrifying question, "What if I have nothing left to say?  What if I have told all I have to tell?  What if no one ever did care or ever will care?"
But then, deep in my heart, something unfolds.  A match is lit, a spark ignites, a light erupts.  And suddenly bursting, bubbling up like volcanic lava, are my words.  And I realize they were always there, just out of reach, but still present in my being, like always.  My fingers fly over the keyboard as I write, desperate to get everything out of me.  I am filled with a wonderful, irresistible love for writing, and I must write every second I can.
During these times I can never understand how, just a few days ago, or in some cases mere hours ago I thought I could never write again.  During these times I feel like a writer, I feel some paragon emotion .  I desire an eternal circle of nothing but this feeling.
Yet, as I rise higher into that glorious writer's emotion, I fall again.  I am back to staring at a blank screen, biting my lip and wondering why I bother trying to tell stories at all... and worse, I think that if I only get such brief bursts of true love for writing, I'm clearly not a true writer.
But, again, a match, a spark, a light.  I'm up again into the world of my words, loving every second my mind is spilling them out onto paper.
Call me genius, I think I've discovered a pattern.

While I do believe every writer is different concerning the creative process, I think a lot of people go through the same vicious, glorious cycle I go through.  Writing doldrums to writing ecstasy, writing doldrums to writing ecstasy, writing doldrums to writing ecstasy.  And I think that's just the way it goes.
I think a writer is like the Phoenix of mythology.  The Phoenix is a bird of fire, and it obtains life by rising from the ashes of it's predecessor.  First it rises in a spectacular burst of flame and vitality and heat, and then it dies, sinking into ash and death.  And yet, it rises again, just as spectacular, and then sinks to ash again.  And it rises again.  And it sinks again.  It's a beautiful rebirth cycle, and I have found it to be an accurate metaphor for the way I process my creativity.
I think the thing to remember is the Phoenix always rises again.  It's a cycle, a process, and you can't have both  at once.  Fire cannot exist without ash, nor can ash exist without fire.  Out of our writing doldrums will erupt a great cascade of words, and that too dies, but to be replaced with a new waterfall of stories.  Sometimes the period of ash will stretch on for months, a bleak, ravaged landscapes that come with much pain and discouragement, and sometimes the period of flames and words only lasts an hour -- but it will always come again.
So, if you haven't written anything for months.  If you feel like I have, doubting yourself and your writing, just remember one thing.  One very important fact you must never forget. 
You will rise again.

            


Post Script - An Infinite Creative Journey
I mentioned this concept briefly in Discouragement and Creativity but I thought I'd expand upon it here.  
I imagine creativity like a road, an infinite journey.  A circle, if you will.  I'm one of those writers with the unfortunate tendency to compare myself with other authors -- "They write prose so much better than me," "Their plot is so much more development than mine," "Their characters are more likable," "How do they produce such beautiful words?"  However, not only is this unhealthy, it is unnecessary.  If you think of creativity as an infinite line of good ideas, bad ideas, words, pictures, underdeveloped concepts, developed concepts, over-developed concepts, a soup of brilliance and enlightenment, failures and shortcomings, then no matter where you are on that line it doesn't really matter.  As long as your engaged in active, raw creativity you are behind, ahead, and right beside your fellow artists.  This doesn't mean you don't have to learn the tools and tricks of your craft, but so do we all.  You mustn't judge yourself on where someone else is placed on an infinite line.   
I think that's a really beautiful concept, and one I find encouraging.  As writers, we're on a never-ending journey, so don't bother glancing over your shoulder at what other people are doing.
You're doing just fine where you are.  

         

The Ending of Innocence

From the moment I was born, I began to suck from the world my human needs.  It took most of my childhood to realize the world requires something in return for what it yields.  As I drain it, it drains me.  We are caught in a two-way act of vampirism, the Universe and I, as we bleed each other dry.  And the Universe will always claim our innocence in the end, until the End of Time, when the Lord shall return and restore to us a Perfect Unity.  But until then, we are engaged in our wars against the world.
Everyone, no matter what age or religion, is struggling to retain their innocence.  I think maybe it starts as children, when we can first understand death as a concept, or realize that we are merely the tiniest particle of dust on the outskirts of a chaotic sandstorm waiting to be enveloped in the whirling winds...  Maybe we all have that one definable moment in our minds, that moment when we find we have Innocence, something almost substantial, and something so easily breakable, so easily lost.  Our terms of when and where Innocence begins and ends might shift from person to person, religion to religion, but deep down inside we all have our undeniable, unalienable Shame, that Counterpart to Innocence.
I've reached a point in  my life where I have seen so much, too much, and yet I have seen nothing at all.  "Oh, that this too, too sullied flesh would melt," cries Hamlet.  And I'm inclined to cry with him.  Sometimes I wish I could cover myself, that I could shield my eyes and plug my ears and protect my skin all at once, in some pitiful ball, hoping the Universe will forget me.  It never does, though.
Whatever it is, the never-ending cycle of what you see on the computer screen and TV and the screaming roadside billboards, the conversations overhead, the enslaving desires of the flesh, the wars and rumors of wars, the touch of death and sickness, or a betrayal of trust... losing your innocence hurts.    To say a person "is broken" has become somewhat of a cliche, but it is true.  As fallen humans we can, and will, break.
I think I'm beginning to break.  Whatever shell of naivety I had around me is falling away.  It scares me, as if I am standing at the edge of a precipice with the world behind me, urging me to jump.  If I do not jump, will I be pushed.
I think most people my age, maybe most people in general, feel this way.  What I'm finding out about my time of life, is this is when you find out if you're someone who jumps or someone who must inevitably be pushed.  Because in life, we all must go through some irrevocable fall, but maybe we have some control over how it happens.
This, obviously, is a terrifying fact.  It is everyone's secret burden, hidden in little chambers of the heart.  We shove our broken pieces deep within us so the world cannot see them, and it seems we let the jagged edges cut us even more.
I've been thinking a lot about the shame we feel, as we grow up, as we lose our innocence piece by piece.  Why?  This is one common burden shared by humanity.  The person sitting next to you at the bus stop, the cashier at Walmart, your best friend, your worst enemy, the great masses shifting through the earth like quicksand.  We all know.  We all feel.  And we all deal with it differently.  Our books on tape, our lustful pleasures, our beauty magazines, our antidepressants, our sports channels, our casinos, our parties, our movie theaters, our Doctor Who marathons, our junk food.  
My only thought on this stems from my faith, that as Christians we should take this brokenness, this loss of Innocence, to God.  He is, quite literally, the only one who can heal your jagged edges.  I do not think He will put you back together, per se, but more that He will fill those broken parts of you up with Him, making you so much fuller than you were before.  That is why I find a certain beauty in brokenness.  Through God, as cliche as it sounds, you really can become whole again, and not only that, but much more.  Through Him, you can become Complete.
You may put your trust in the Universe and get betrayed.  It is more than likely.  You will get scarred, you will get scraped and burned and lost and found and hurt and touched and loved and hated and you will cry and you will laugh.  And you will be exposed, terribly exposed, to this ever-shifting mass of life.
I believe in something more, though.  There is Someone who will never change.
I want to go back to my fantascised childhood, I want to go back to some time before my Innocence began unraveling.  I can't.  I'm at this precipice and there is no turning back.
I think I'm going to jump.  But I do not think I will be jumping alone.  I have faith in my God.  He will not let me fall, but He will let me soar on eagle's wings.
That precipice isn't so scary anymore.  
      
^(OvO)^

Writing is Not a Profession

For most of my life, whenever someone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would without hesitation say, "Writer."  My mind has always been fixated on writing "professionally," as my living.  But I look around, I look at the fabulous community of writers I'm a part of, all of them talented in their own ways, all of them deserving to go and become successful authors.  Then I see the small amount of people who actually make it as a successful, "professional" author - so few.  So many of the writers I know, and very likely myself included, will probably never amount to be as famous a well-read as they deserve to be.  Sure, we will be published in small degrees, impacting our little corners of the world (and, so I don't sound like the pessimist I am, the pebbles we drop there will help start the avalanche on the world), but possibly none of us will reach a point of the thing everyone desires: success.  There is only one J. K. Rowling, and there are a million talented authors which will amount to very little, which will remain nameless and unread to the general public.  From this point of the view, the business of being a writer is discouraging to say the least.  I think it's also the wrong point of view.
Writing isn't a profession, it's a culture.

When someone asks you what you're planning to be "when you grow up," don't tell them writer.  Tell them accountant, electrical engineer, botanist, and teacher.  These are professions, some of many we all must take up in order to support ourselves and achieve some degree of that elusive societal standard of "success."  If someone asks you, "What are you?" then you must answer, "A Writer."  Being a writer isn't something you're becoming, it's something you are.  I know for me, I will always be writing, when I'm old, when I'm sad and when I'm happy, when the world is crumbling around me and the sky is falling I shall be writing.  God put in me a raging desire to spill out words, so spill out words I must, and that is what makes me a writer. 
The way I see it, all artists are part of a giant "culture" (and this includes musicians and painters, sculptures and poets, artists of all sorts).  We support each other, we help each other, we war with each other, and we're all united with the passion for creating.  Just to be part of this is beautiful and fulfilling.  When we turn writing into a profession, when we treat it as something we're aiming "to be," we lose what it is to be a Writer.
Artists WANT to create -- it's a desire in them that can never be fully satisfied
"Professionals" work because they have to support their day to day needs. 
Don't get the two mixed up.
So the next time you feel discouraged and feel like you'll never become a professional writer, don't worry. You really already are.          

^(OvO)^       

This Is Not Your House

We're all someone.  We all have likes and dislikes and types of clothing we like to wear and music we like to listen to.  We each have a unique personality that allows our friends to go, "I saw these shoes at the mall that looked so totally you."
We all enjoy being 'ourselves."
Last Sunday the pastor of my church preached a sermon that I liked a lot.  In it, he compared our personalities, our likes and dislikes, who we are as people inside and out to being our "houses."  As humans, we like to think we own our houses.  We like to think we sit on a big fat piece of land in a nice house and say, "I own this, this is me."  But, as my pastor said, we don't actually own any of it.
God has the keys to your heart if you've accept Him as your Lord and Savior, but God also wants the keys to your house.  He wants every bit of furniture in every room.  And, myself included, when you hear this you don't like it.  I like being myself, I'm me, this is my house, I built it.
But none of us built our own houses.  God did, from the foundation to the chimney.  We don't have a right to throw Him out the front door and say, "I built this, get out."  He wants His keys back, and things get so much easier when you hand them over, because He'll help you with the upkeep.  When your house starts falling apart, when a storm comes, God'll be there to help you with repairs.  But first, you have to surrender your housekeys and let God into every room.  Every closet.  Every cupboard.  Don't close any doors, don't go, "Oh, not that closet, that's my stuff."  Or, "Please don't go in there, I'm ashamed of what's inside."  Those latter doors are the one that you should leave wide open for God, for He's the only one who can clean out and remodel it.  It may be embarrassing and shameful, but don't worry, God understands.  It may hurt to show Him these private rooms, but it will hurt only as thorn hurts as it being pulled out. 
It's hard to give up control of things, we as humans like to be in charge of ourselves.  But, if you think about it, this isn't even our permanent house.  Soon it would will crumble and rust away and we'll move into a perfect mansion in Heaven, and since that's eternal, how much do our earthly dwellings really matter?
God wants every part of us.  All of it.   He wants every door wide open.  He gave you a wonderful house to live in it, so live in it, don't try to own it.  Really, so much stress goes away when you give Him everything.  He wants to fill your house with peace and joy, so why not let him?
Giving up control is hard, but things get easier after that.  So try it.  I have faith that you'll see the blessings immediately.           

^(OvO)^      

Reflections for the End of the World

Everyone knows about the Mayan prediction of end of world, etc, etc, but of course no one really believes it.  There is, however, that little voice that whispers, "What if?"
I've noticed lately, in a lot of radio-pop songs, they feature lines such as, "Live like you're dying," and, "Party like we've got one night left."  It seems like our culture is bombarding us with these messages to party now and forget the consequences. And with this prediction, and that little voice, I find myself examining my life like, "Is this the note I want everything to end on?"
Thinking that is useless, because the answer will always be a big fat resounding, "NO!"  We will never be happy with our lives, up 'til the very end, and when we realize that things get easier.  Humans have always reached for the unattainable goal of being "happy" in life, and you can never be happy when you're searching to be happy, because being happy is almost an illusion.  There is just to much sadness in this fallen world.
To slip in a Doctor Who quote, "The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things, the good things don't always soften the bad things, but vice versa the bad things don't necessarily spoil the good things or make them unimportant."  You will have good days, but you'll have just as many bad days, and it's separating them that's the key.
To "live like you're dying" is wrong, it just leads to dissatisfaction and unfulfillment, and in truth we can't live like we're dying because we aren't dying.
We have to live like we're living.
The surest way to be unhappy is to go looking for happiness.  Accept the bad days, enjoy the good days, live for God, serve others, and happiness should follow.
Another thing I find myself is thinking, "Did I make a big enough difference?  Did I matter?"
The answer, really, depends on your definition of "mattering."  Because, in the scope of all things human, we don't really matter at all.  Even someone like Socrates, someone who's been remembered for generations and shaped human history (if that can be considered "mattering") will one day be entirely forgotten.
On our own, we don't matter, we're just small and helpless and clinging onto the skin of this tiny little world.
The way I see it, there are two levels of mattering: the earthly level and the heavenly level.  Earthly levels is your day to day life "matterings" - you matter to your parents, to your friends, to the people you help and guide through life.  Then there is the heavenly level of mattering - everyone you've directly or indirectly brought to knowledge and Saving Grace of the Lord Jesus Christ.  Of course, this is the only way you'll truly mattering, and it's the most wonderful way to matter.
So don't worry about mattering on an earthly level, worry about mattering on that heavenly level, and that's the only way you'll ever feel fulfilled.
The world could end on December 21st, the world could end any day really, but most likely it won't end for a long while yet.  But still, don't beat around the bush, stop looking for happiness, stop trying to matter materialistically, and start telling people a very good piece of news.
The news that one man died for the sins of all mankind.

^(OvO)^  
     

Discouragement and Creativity

Lately I've been doubting my writing ability.  I've been sitting at my keyboard, trying to coax some brilliant words to miraculously form themselves into magnificent prose, something that will make people go, "Wow, you're really talented."  I'm one of those people who is always reaching for that unattainable goal of perfection - and worse, I try to achieve it on my first or second try.  More then once I've found myself looking at the first draft of something I've written and wondering why it's so pathetic compared to the works of my famous authors.
Combined with the fact that there are 7 billion people in the world, probably about a billion of them writing similar things I am, and only about 100 of them are actually successful authors, impacting the world and people's lives with their near-perfect words, I've been pretty discouraged.
I've also been pretty ridiculous.
First, you should never compare your writing (or other creative outlet) to someone else's, and especially not a professional's.  Creativity is not a competition; there are no winners, there are no losers.  Everyone is traveling down this infinite line of good ideas and bad ideas, finished ideas and unfinished ideas.  Some people are farther down this line, some people are more successful on this line, but because this line is infinite it doesn't really matter.
As a writer, I create because I enjoy it, it helps me understand and recreate myself, and I have things I want to say.  I want more than anything to have my words impact someone profoundly, but maybe that should be viewed more as a wonderful side effect than the main point.  As long as my writing impacts me profoundly, its mission is accomplished.
So, for all you writers out there, for all you artists of all forms, every single person on this earth, take pride in what you create.  The world may never see it, but as long as the act of creating helped you, impacted you, then it's worth just as much as a truly great work of art.
God has given us the ability and desire to create, and that is a truly marvelous gift.
Stuff like fame is merely the side effect.
And remember, God has a plan for your creativity.  Don't be discouraged, don't shove your thoughts into the dusty attic of your mind because you think they're not good enough.  Pour them out, to help yourself, and who knows what side effects might follow.

^(OvO)^