Wytpaygitis. It's a common disease among writers. You look at this white page and you think - how the fat am I going to fill that up with intelligent looking squiggles. And is it worth it anyway? Tonight I had to prepare a prayer topic for Wednesday's early morning meeting, and I was dead sure that nothing was going to come. I sat there gazing into the blank void, mentally probing at doors that didn't want to open. But something came, as it always does. It happens for me every weekday.
When you hit a wall, get up and hit it again. They're rarely as solid as they seem. Yeah, it's going to hurt and it probably won't look any different from the last time you did it, but it's a faith thing. One of the least extolled virtues is also one of the most practically valuable: pigheadedness. The ability to keep at a task for an indefinate period regardless of progress made. As we are no judges of people, so also we are poor judges of progress. How many times, I wonder, have we thrown in the towel when we had but to place the last straw on? And it isn't as if the interim time is wasted. Life may not be all about the journey, as the Eastern philosophers would have us believe, but neither is it solely about the destination. Sometimes we are so busy conniving and pushing and straining just to reach the goal - and then realise too late how much of the end we really missed. There's a balance to be struck, as with everything, but the malady of 'drop it if it isn't working' seems to be the more troublesome. I've loved to write for years; why then have I finished but one of the myriads of projects that I began? It wasn't working. I couldn't see a way around it. Too much effort for too little result.
What would have emerged if I had continued? Where would I be now? No, child. No one is told what would have happened. But anyone can find out what will happen. Because we can change that.
4 comments:
Right now I'm writing two stories. I've only finished one since I've begun writing. The short story is the format I've chosen to write in - mainly because I'm scared to aim higher.
It's so depressing to get stuck on a story. Unlike a poem or even a blog entry, you can't just write it until you've said all there is to say.
I've always seen the journey as being important, and the destination secondary. But we must make many journeys, and they must all be completed before the next one begins.
For each time we reach the finish line, we will go on as a different person that we started as. We simply cannot begin our journey as an adult, as a parent, as a husband, or as a Christian with undertaking many journeys. Because we are afraid, we never finish, therefore we never grow.
Or, rather I meant that they must be finished before we can move on to better things.
Sorry I missed it. I was actually looking forward to it.
Ah well Mat, you didn't miss much. Except for the chance to pray with us.
They must be finished before we can move on to better things.
Absolutely. Which is why I now try to finish projects I start, even when I realise that in the end it will fall far short of my initial hopes. Because in pushing through, in carrying on even though it won't be a masterpiece, I pick up so much that I can use next time.
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