Shit Gathering

I’m trying to pull my shit together.  From all directions.

I want to write more.

I, ever so wisely, associate with a writer on Facebook who has a blog about writing, who is very responsible about updating regularly and maintaining a daily Facebook page full of writing conversations and memes and “You should be writing!” guilt trips.

I like him.  He keeps me conscious of my art, even as it lies curled up in a dark corner doing nothing.

He keeps me conscious of the neurosis that I try to run away from and hide and pretend isn’t there because it is so daunting for me to deal with.

He keeps me from successfully burying my head in the sand.

I need someone like him for keto and pills and exercise and doctors appointments…  Oh wait… I have Sir.

But the thing is, even when I go dark around here, I don’t stop thinking about writing, I don’t stop thinking about this blog, or about the fact that I’m not meeting my own expectations for myself.

I don’t stop feeling the anxiety of “I should be writing” and the soul decay of not creating…

I doodled on the airplane last week.  Even that was both torturous and nourishing… and that isn’t even my art.

I read an article about education tonight – about students who are successful vs. those who struggle.  The defining trait in the successful students was an ability/willingness to try, fail, learn, and try again.  In my classroom right now, I can name the students who have that resilience, and the ones who are going to struggle – even though they are good students and get good grades.  Some of my students have the resilience and the fearlessness to try and fail and keep trying.  Others are, already, in fourth grade, becoming frozen by perfectionism of and fear of failing – despite all that I do in my classroom to teach growth mindset and resilience.

And I have realized that I am one of them.

I do not have the resilience to try and fail and try again at writing.  I am frozen with perfectionism.  And it’s worse the better I get at the craft of writing.  When I was really terrible at writing, I was much better at just enjoying it.  But then… people started to notice me.  I became popular (in my niche area).  I started to think about my audience when I was writing… about what people would think… I began to see my own writing as a critic… and… I began a death spiral in my creativity that has continued to this day.

Yet, in other areas of my life I am a learner, I am resilient, I learn from my mistakes and I get back up, so certain lessons seep in and they apply to writing, even if my resilience is weaker there.  The lesson of practice is one of them.

Artist after artist.  Writer after writer.  All of them respond to, “How did you get so good?” with the answer… “Practice.”

All of them.

Science says it’s true.

You get better at what you practice.

I can’t get better at writing if I don’t practice writing.  I can’t improve if I can’t write anything to improve upon.  I can’t.  That is reality.

Emotionally, I can’t grasp that, but my intellectual mind is getting closer and closer to it.

I had made a commitment to myself to write on this blog daily.

Barriers I created – I’m not doing the “right” type of writing.  I’m not doing a “blog” properly (I’m just using it as a personal journal/diary).  I’m not practicing in the genre I want to write it.  I’m sharing it publicly and I should keep my “practice” private so I’m not subjecting people to my poor writing while I’m getting better… etc. etc. etc. etc.

So I tried to write every day, and I failed.  I let my barriers become insurmountable and I gave up.

I got knocked down.

I can stay down or get back up and try again.

I tried to type the next line about getting back up and going back to daily posting, but it scared me so much I literally started crying, then somehow found myself on Amazon pricing telephoto lenses.

Sigh.

I’m going to try to start daily writing again.

And I’m sure I’ll fail again.

And when that happens I’ll have to decide again to get up or stay down.  I guess that’s all life really is… making that decision over and over again.

I’m going to try to get back on my diet and meds and medical appointments – the staph infection returned and I just gave up… quit taking all my meds… haven’t spoken to my doctor since November…

I feel down and I’ve been down for a while.

I’m going to try to get back up.

And I guess I need to do it in public because… somehow… for some reason, that makes it work better for me.  Maybe it is accountability in some small way – that other people see me doing it makes me fight harder to keep it going.  I don’t know.  But I guess I’ll go with it for now.

So… Shit gathered.

I’m still trying.