Words clamoring to be shared, to exist somewhere removed from the inside of my too noisy brain, words that grow louder the more I dig my heels in and try to placate them, uhm, me, with any and every excuse. I will write later after I complete the list of chores a mile long, or in the morning when I'm not so tired, some day when I find a topic that's worthy. Words don't care about all that - they just ask me to define who I am, what I stand for, what I love, dream of, despair over, fear - so long as what I speak onto the page is authentic, radical, wholly an expression of me. No big deal, words.
This is the essence of creativity: it doesn't care that you are blocked, processing, ashamed, busy, afraid, or trying to lead a more serious life. As a part of a vast network of creation, our very nature is to create, whether it's in accord with a biological imperative or any other imperative that drives us. If we ignore this part of our self, we tend to suffer. A writer who doesn't write is a person with a head filled and spilled over with words.
I must not abstain from writing, from creating, in order to avoid failure. Mistakes, false starts, speed humps, potholes, detours and other obstacles line the road I travel, but in fact these forms of failure are in alignment with the creative process. The phrase "if at first you don't succeed..." does not end with give up. But it seems to me that in this area of my life, unlike in other parts, I have given up. Or had. I guess we'll just have to see.
For now, I acknowledge that failing is fun. Failing means an open door to new possibilities, perspectives, and actions. Failing means I can toss out what doesn't work and start renewed. As I acknowledge my failure, I can move on, let go, transform my experiment into something that works for me. So: more posts, keep it short, be okay that not every post is brilliant, and above all, have fun.
"Try again. Fail again. Fail better."
-- Samuel Beckett
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