On Writing
Over the past few days a question has been darkening the edges of my consciousness, haunting me in small moments of silence. I have attempted to suppress the question, ignoring it, but it still lurks in the dark. Today someone gave me the courage to turn the light on in my brain and instead of being afraid, to be curious. Rather than letting it have control over me, I want to pay attention to it because that question might have something important, even profound for me.
The question is simple: why do I want to write?
There are layers underneath that simple question. Who am I writing for? Do I have a particular audience in mind? Am I writing to get famous? Am I writing to make money? Am I writing because I have something important to say? As I let those questions wash over me, I know that I must do my best to be honest with them: not judging the questions as they come, not judging myself, not answering too quickly. But then another question springs forth in the midst of them. It is not subtle or haunting, but rather aggressive and abrasive; it was a question my counselor asked me the other day in a session.
We were talking about my frustrations with writing overall and suddenly there was dreaded silence. He let it ripen for a moment before steepling his fingers, touching them to his chin. In an annoyingly, calm, and soothing voice he had the audacity to ask this question: if you never got published would you still write? My body tensed up and my cheeks flushed with heat. For a moment I thought about inflicting bodily pain on him. How dare he hint that I might never be published! The absurdity and even blasphemy of that question happens to also be my greatest fear when it comes to writing.
In the euphoric daydreams we all experience I think we all ask ourselves this question: what if I am not good enough? For myself I’ve equated being good enough with being published. I’ve made all sorts of excuses, that I don’t have time, people have gotten lucky, their circumstances allow them to write, amongst other things. I coddle myself, by thinking of all the hurdles I’d need to overcome to become a writer, a published writer that is. And yet deep down, the excuses, my contempt for others, all hide the deep question we all want an answer to…am I good enough?
But as I write today, I realize that the question, am I good enough, isn't the right question. If I am honest with myself right now I can probably say that I am a decent writer, but not a great one. But the question that matters the most is the other question lurking in the back of my mind that I began with today.
Why do I want to write?
As I was pondering this question I was reminded of a line from the classic movie, Chariots of Fire, about Eric Lidell, the great olympic runner. Lidell came from a missionary family that loved Jesus Christ, but he was also a tremendous athlete. He had committed to doing missionary work in China and his family wanted him to leave the Olympics behind to go pursue this higher calling. He’s talking with his sister when he says, “I believe God made me for a purpose, but He also made me fast. And when I run, I feel His pleasure.” There has always been something deeply profound and freeing about this line for me.
For years I have said that like Lidell, when I write, “I feel God’s pleasure.” There is something exhilarating about a blank page and the clacking of keys. There’s a beauty to the moment when words fill a page. There’s also the pain of childbirth in taking the ideas that are in your head and putting them into sentences. There’s also the pain and suffering that comes when you read something and you realize that it isn’t very good. There is the painstaking joy that comes when you actually sit down to edit a piece and craft the words. It’s like carving something out of wood where you have to cut things out, trim things down, use different tools, all in an effort to create something worth reading.
I have the answer to my question. Why do I write? Because I feel his pleasure, and not only his pleasure but my own pleasure as well. It’s not a question of good enough, although I know that it will still linger in the background as I try to hone my craft. I still do want to get published, and I wouldn’t say no to making money through writing. But all those wash away when I get to the heart of it. God gave me both the desire and ability to write, so I will write. I’m not sure of the outcome, but I can take joy in his pleasure in me.
I used to love the idea of writing for an audience of one. It seemed selfish to write for myself. In the christian tradition, something so self-centered was not pious, so I wouldn’t be able to do that. But I can certainly write for two. I can stay true to myself and write the things that are true to who I am. Then the only reader that matters, the only audience member that matters is God.
Today I am reminded that publishing doesn’t make a writer, readers don’t make a writer, writing makes a writer, and God gave me a desire in my soul to write. So I will write. I will hone my craft by starting with this piece. I will seek out feedback. I will become who I already am. To not write would be to deny a part of myself and I will no longer live in fear.
What about you? What is the deep longing in your soul? I say the longing in your soul because often times the “dreams” we talk about are grandiose and are cluttered with things that don’t really matter. They are the whispers of the world, the shadows of our fears, and many more. But in the midst of that is something pure, good, beautiful, and true. When all of the “stuff” goes away there is something calling inside you asking to be let out. So let it out! Write, dance, sing, create, just do something. Not for the audience, and not for anyone else, but for two people. Yourself and God.
