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.


14 thoughts on “Gobbledygook

  1. Pingback: 10 things about me as a writer-#sol17 | wahooliteracyteacher

    • I’m incredibly humbled by your kind words. I’m so glad that you embrace your status as a writer…I had the same struggle when I began running. Comparing myself to others left me feeling “less than”. So I hold on to Theodore Roosevelt words “Comparison is the Thief of Joy” –


  2. I wish that I could have clicked a “Love” button instead of just the “Like” button. This post was exactly what I needed as I’m trying to get back into a regular writing routine post dissertation. I’m going to have to print this post and keep it in my writing notebook. Thank you for the encouragement!

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  3. I especially like your line about an inner rhythm emerging, and about the simbiotic adoration…
    All I know is that this project makes me happy! We were meant to take these chances, meant to craft something new each day. Like you, I am so grateful for this encouragement!

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  4. I think my inner critic must talk with your because they say the same things! I had a hard time getting an idea and then writing today’s post. My inner critic was highly active. Thanks for this.

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  5. So many golden nuggets in your piece! Here are some of my faves: “peeking from beneath the remnants of a grey winter sentence”, “your infant story is rushed to the maternity ward”, “Whether people smile, laugh, cry, or are otherwise stirred by your words doesn’t impact the symbiotic adoration you have with your new creation.”

    Thanks for sharing! Such vulnerability in this piece…love it!

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  6. This is just what I needed to read this morning. I was so excited and day 1 and 2, a little worried on day 3, anxious on day 4, and a wreck today. What was I thinking? Write? Every day? For a month? Reading this reminded me that it is hard (really hard), but worth it! Thanks.

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  7. I love this! And you surprised me. I thought it would be the “oh blogging and writing every day is hard” tale… searching but perhaps not finding what you wanted to write about today. Love the chilling winter into spring writer and then the birth of the babe. Perfect! And congratulations. I’ll enjoy reading you all month!

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