Hey friends,
Y’all have no idea how much I can shame myself for not being a “prolific” writer. It messes with my ability to consistently share on my platforms. I end up in shame spirals and they are tough to find my way out
Shame keeps you stuck. It sticks in your body and can literally keep you from taking your next steps and moving forward in your life. It has you all up in your head - anything to keep you from taking what it perceives as the dreaded action that will unveil a part of yourself that you’ve kept hidden because if not, you’ll no doubt be humiliated, a disappointment or something worse, like cast out from the rest of us!
A hint for me that I’m in a particularly bad headspace is when I start comparing myself to my favourite writers on here. I begin noting all the ways I don’t add up with my efforts or couldn’t possible be (fill in the blank) enough.
Compare and despair is real, friends. And shame is not the way to help shift it.
The truth is, I gotta start letting go of the old ways I’ve learned to see myself first. They aren’t who I am - they’re merely stories of who I was told I should be. And even though I can let them go any time I want, doesn’t mean it’s easy. I can pick choose what I hide about myself about as well as I pick and choose what gets revealed beneath what I’ve let go of the coping strategies I’ve used to keep parts of myself hidden.
It takes intentional effort, baby steps forward and back to what you know, and a lot of compassion along the way. It’ll probably take a conversation (or ten) with a friend too.
These stories run deep, but that still doesn’t mean they’re the truth.
But, I’m still not sure what’s worse. Letting go of what no longer serves me or not knowing what new thing I’ll have to accept about myself when I do. What I do know is that things become a lot more straightforward, secure and easeful when I get closer to my truth, because then I get to live from it.
For now, when it comes to my writing I’ve learned that:
I write every day. I’m always writing. Lists, beginnings, endings, thoughts, questions, answers. I’ve come to accept that most of the time, my writing is for me to put the pieces of mind together so that maybe I can make some sense to myself again. I wish I was as prolific a writer as some of my closer friends on this platform, though. I’m learning to accept I’m not or will ever be, and that can be enough.
Writing at my best happens from pen to paper. This way, the words feel real. As if they’re actually mine. I can’t explain it, but typing feels I’ve disconnected from a part of myself and it takes so much time and effort to find my way back.
There’s something about reading from my notebook that I hope hints to the depth of where these words in me come from. It’s as if my pen has a thread that connects to my heart, while my keyboard strains to find the words from my finger tips that have been laced with so much conditioning.
So, with all that being said, this latest piece is one that came from one of my journals. Then, rather than type it out word for word, I read it and checked the transcription, instead. I can no longer believe that I’m meant to force my way through writing or creating when I experience so many times I don’t. I’ll just take what works and try letting go of what doesn’t.
Letting go of what I was told I’m meant to be and how I’m meant to show up is a process. And, I think it’s been one worth learning.
With love & gratitude,
SC xo
PS. A little something to for you journal on about your own creative process and share what comes to you in the comments. What in your responses surprised you?
~ If you could give your “creative expectation” a character, what would it be like? What does it want from you, and how does it try to keep you from creating/sharing your work? What does it value as opposed to what you value?
~ I shared that writing with a pen on paper feels more "real" and like the words are "actually mine." What is happening in those moments when you feel connected to your creative work? What are you learning about your own creative process in those moments? What belief or story needs to be let go?
