Catching A Dream

Catching a Dream

Writing is the act of arranging and rearranging twenty-six letters to put words and ideas on a blank page – with somebpunctuation thrown in for emphasis. Your array of letters are at the ready in your virtual tool box. Your screen is a vision board that reminds you where you’ve been, where you are, where you’re going and where you want to end up. Your ideas are beacons that light up the path and your mind is a stovetop with pots simmering on every burner, vying for your attention.

When you’re inspired, the pots boil over faster than your hands can skim across the computer keys. Like a planchette gliding soundlessly over a Ouija board, your fingers take on a mind of their own. You get so immersed in The Zone, you lose time and place as you set out to create something that didn’t exist before. It’s like chasing a dream, catching it, and finding a way to seize it and hold it firmly in your grasp.

When you’re not inspired, your dream flies away and it takes a world of patience and grit to stay focused and try to bring it back. You hope and pray for the writing muse to grace you with her presence. It
could take a long time or she may show up in a minute. Or not at all. Like a hummingbird flitting, sipping sweet nectar from scarlet poppies and purple petunias and taking off again, the muse is here one minute, gone the next. But whether or not she comes and however long she stays, your job is the same – to keep on writing.

Like any form of art, writing can be a pleasure or an impossible task. It can be rewarding, something to anticipate with zeal, or it can be painful, something to dread. It’s all in the way you think about it.
You look at the computer screen, the canvas, your dancing shoes, your piece of music, your journal or your guitar. And then you dig in. When you start moving, even though you’re not sure where you’re going or how to get there, you can be proud that you began. If you stick with it, you’ll most likely find the inspiration you’re looking for. If you run away, you won’t find much of anything except guilt and disappointment.

This morning, I sat down at my computer and my cat took her usual place between the screen and the keyboard, her furry head hitting the keys and driving me crazy. I felt disconnected. I had no idea what I was going to write and my inner critic got busy. You’ve written close to four hundred blogs, one a week, it said. What makes you think you still have something to say? You haven’t skipped one week so why not take a break?

Then I remembered why I keep going. It helps me feel connected. It helps me process my life. It occupies the place in my mind where I make up stories that nourish me. I remember that not unlike my dedication to my ballet training, I made a commitment to do this whether or not I felt inspired. Part of being a teacher is being a role model and when I tell my students that a lack of inspiration is not a good excuse to avoid writing, I have to do what I ask of them.

Staying true to yourself and your promises open doors that you never knew were there. How you approach your work and how much
you value your personal expression are what’s at stake here. It’s not about finding a clever turn of phrase. It’s not about how many big words you use and how smart and intellectual you sound. When you stop trying to write and you start telling your story, you’re being you, wholeheartedly and authentically. There’s no use in trying to sound like someone you admire. It won’t work.  

One of my favorite authors, Robert B. Parker, wrote 40 Spencer detective novels among many other series of books. His economy of
words was unequalled and when he died on 2010, the family okayed a man, Ace Atkins, to keep writing the novels. I was sad when Parker died and excited to see how the other author would find Parker’s voice. I read one of his books and I ended up disappointed. Mr. Atkins was a good writer but a certain zest was missing. Only Robert Parker could write like Robert Parker.

Deeming your work as wonderful or terrible is not your job. It’s nobody’s job. When other people criticize you or your artistic expression or when you do it to yourself, it means nothing. As you sit down to write, it doesn’t matter why you’re doing it or how long you sit. All you have to do is look inside, feel what’s there and courageously put it on the page. No matter what it is. When you unburden your heart, you begin to feel lighter, easier and less confused. When you stop judging yourself as an artist and start
appreciating yourself as a human being, your creativity will soar and you’ll find home, a rare commodity these days. If you need a jumping off point, think about the following.

Writing prompt: What inspires you?