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Today I am full of doubt.
Now, in the black and white font of this site you might take pity on me, or feel bored with this typical and on-going issue, or not care either way. The latter I cannot help, but regarding the pity, don't give my mind-chatter any moment of compassion. I'd rather it not be fueled by any attention whatsoever. The moment you engage, it's off to the races. I've heard mind-chatter described like a television channel or radio station, but I don't agree. Those boxes can be changed or turned off at will. You can turn down the volume. Walk out of the room. Mind-chatter is more like an eight-year old kid. Do you happen to have one around? If not, I'll tell you - they are on constant chatter. They bounce from topic to topic. They talk like drunks. The moment you open a book to read, they lay on top of it. They climb on the back of the couch, let Cheerios lay where they fall, and leave the box of crayons spilled across the couch even though they've moved on to choreographing a dance. They ask questions, and then shift gears the moment you try to answer. They are hungry, starving, and hate the casserole you've made. And did they tell you about the game they played at school? Yes? Okay, let them tell you again. There is no inner dialog for an eight-year-old that does not, without filter, become the outer dialog. Like the eight-year-old, the mind will chatter. Like the heart will beat, the lungs will breathe, the inner psyche will run on and on with an endless stream of story-line. The main difference between the heart and the mind is that while the heart beats regardless of the attention you bestow upon its actions, the mind wants attention and will try any and every way to gain it. "I am beautiful" is, apparently, not interesting dialog. There's no inner turmoil in that, no engagement, no drama. It turns out that simple love stories won't do. A thought like "I am beautiful" is tossed out as soon as it arises. But give me soap operas and I'll be hooked all afternoon. When I sit down to write, as I have done today, all I think is "I am boring", "I cannot do this thing", and "why bother trying - someone else can do it better". In light of my recent readings of Herman Melville and Virginia Woolf, it is so easy to go there. Their books are extraordinary, and so that's where my mind-chatter goes. Like the eight-year-old, the mind wants attention. It will use every trick in the book to get it. I texted Darby a few minutes ago: Me: "afraid to write. afraid of being boring or having poor judgment or telling a pointless story." him: "i totally understand. what you write might be all of those things... or not. you just gotta write. it's not your last piece. nothing rides on it. some hits some misses. and brooke just brought over some yummy donut creation. if you write, you can have some..." I'm not above coercion, or anything doughnut related, but what I would give for useful mind-chatter. How about something helpful like "ah, this is how we will develop the structure". I mean, shouldn't my mind and I be on the same team? A good-natured chat like, "hey, Arielle, there's a cool simile - come on, try it out" would be very welcome. So I've been thinking - practice makes perfect, right? Well, it seems I've perfected saying to myself things I would never think to say to someone else. Sure, I make mind-quieting meditation a regular practice in my life. That has helped me calm down, be present, let go. But today I'm starting a new practice. This one is not a practice of quieting the mind - it's a practice of writing my own script. I'm going to start small - just as I did with the mind-quieting meditation six years ago. Two minutes. Two minutes by the clock of meditating on a new mantra, in plain, simple English. I am talented. I am extraordinary. I have a talent for storytelling. I have a way with words that the world wants to hear - through stories, through songs, through teaching. I need more stories like these chattering away in my mind, so I am going to start practicing them today. After all, I am a writer, aren't I?
4 Comments
Z.
3/3/2014 08:42:26 am
I'm sure Virginia had her doubts.
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ari
3/3/2014 09:07:04 am
Aw, thanks for your comments. I tend to write a lot about doubt because, I think, by writing about doubt I am directly interfacing with the mind-chatter, and also I am doing the very thing the mind-chatter is trying to sway me from doing --- in other words, by WRITING about my doubts as a writer, I am at least writing. I win. The mind-chatter loses. In an earlier time of my life, I might have let the chatter win. I believe the chatter gets louder the closer I get to the thing I most treasure. Perhaps if the chatter's loud, it means I am in the right place.
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Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
5/12/2014 04:32:33 am
Thank you for this post. At the beginning of this week, May 2014, I had the same feelings. I don't know if it was the end of the project period blues or I was still mourning our kitty Dezi who had just passed away. Maybe it was the feedback from my last packet. I was full of doubt. It seemed like everything I wrote was just lacking, missing that spark. But after reading your post. I kept writing. And then on Friday I had a break through. It does take practice. Not every thing we write is going to be gold. We truly have to dig deep inside our creative voices to find these nuggets of lyrical treasures from within. Thanks again!
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ari
5/12/2014 04:49:19 am
Adrian, I'm so glad you found the blog, and very much appreciate you sharing your own doubts. As writers we often read other writers, but rarely actually have a peek into their doubts and inner disturbances. I often read books and think, how did this writer find the courage to do this? And yet they did, and I am sure they did it with their own doubts sitting beside them, which means that we too have our own work to do, and will do it, even as the doubts arise. Perhaps they always will. We artists are sensitive souls, aren't we? But we -- you and I and Zee who commented above -- bring our own unique richness to the world, and this is what we are here to do. To write. To work through our fears. To share. To lift each other up.
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