So you signed up for the writing challenge. One month of consistently putting pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard, trying to reflect, create, articulate, and imagine. Finding the daily discipline to quiet the circus that revolves around each of us, and summon the muse. To tap into an inner voice that offers inspiration, insight and originality.
Yet often times a different voice intervenes. “Just what on earth were you thinking? What possessed you to foray into the world of writers, authors, and people who are obviously much more creative, eloquent and intellectual than you? What made you think that your words mattered? Why would anyone listen to what you had to say?”
Ah, the inner-critic is a cruel specter that haunts us relentlessly.
“Your words, are gibberish.”
“Your writing is nothing but jumbo jumbo.”
“Your ideas are mere gobbledygook.”
So you stare at the screen, every keystroke a determined act of courage, to cast out that irascible voice, and instead find your own. Scribble. Delete. Type a few more words, backspace, change, re-word, and hopefully the meaning starts to come together.
A few paragraphs in, a flow begins to emerge, a little rhythm surprising you like the first growth of spring, peeking from beneath the remnants of a grey winter sentence. Fingers continue to stroke the ivories. Composing. Dancing. Becoming.
As you give birth to this new creation, you find the wherewithal to unveil it to the world. You hit the button to publish, and your infant story is rushed to the maternity ward, held before the glass for all the world to see.
Will they see the beauty that you see? Does it really matter?
Your creation is inherently genuine, inherently you. Whether anyone else recognizes the beauty of your ideas, or the originality of your voice, you labored. You delivered. Your new creation needs no comparison to the stories, poems, or reflections generated by others, because the joy was not in the reception, but in the creation. Whether people smile, laugh, cry, or are otherwise stirred by your words doesn’t impact the symbiotic adoration you have with your new creation.
So hush the inner critic, and hug the creation you have delivered. It’s not gibberish. It’s genuine. It’s not mumbo jumbo. It’s magnificent. It’s not gobbledygook, but instead, it is gorgeous, and worthy of adoration.
I’m blogging daily in the month of March, along with friends and colleagues from around the world. This “Slice of Life” writing challenge is hosted by Two Writing Teachers.