There’s something I need to tell you. Something I only had an epiphany about two days ago but have sensed for a while. Something unconscious that I managed to pinpoint two days ago.
See, two months ago I started writing Morning Pages. “WTF?” I can hear you say. Morning Pages are 3 pages of stream-of-consciousness writing that you (are supposed to) do first thing in the morning, as introduced by Julia Cameron in The Artist’s Way. I had to stop because of this bloody numbness in my hands in the morning, and that mothafookin’ tendinitis.
I’m back at it again, except I have reworked around the concept to make them Evening Pages (translation: I’m too bloody lazy to wake up half an hour earlier to write, for guru’s sake). And I have to say, although not everything I write in there is top quality, unwrapping my thoughts in such a way has been a powerful tool. I even get a-ha moments. I’m floored.
So here’s what I found out.
I’m holding back. Here. On this very blog.
I’m holding back on my writing. I’m holding back on the topics (I hate that word, honestly, it sounds like a marketing tool). I’m holding back on the form. Meaning I’ve been feeling dissatisfied about my writing lately. And still I hit the publish button.
Yes, I write some weird stuff sometimes. Ok most of the time. But darling, you ain’t seen nothing yet.
I know, I can see bewilderment in your eyes (’cause I have super powers allowing me to see people reading my blog, and also because I’ve always wanted to use that word). “Why would you do such a thing?”. Why would I do such a thing?
Raw, unedited, excerpts of my Friday
Morning Evening Pages*:
“Why am I still afraid to show who I really am and what is deep inside of me? I’m still shutting off and not allowing myself to be vulnerable enough so I can let shine fully what needs to shine out to the world. (…) Maybe I’m scared because I don’t really know who I am yet and I’m still searching. I don’t own my story just yet. I don’t fully own who I want to be and who I feel I am. (…) Writing about one subject only gets me mad. It makes me mad because I’m struggling with all these parts of myself, trying to bring them all together, and I feel they deserve to be seen. (…) (And now for the Big One) I still need validation. I would rather own my own story and have the validation come from me. I have to show myself to the world without expecting anything.”
A-HA! Now do I get the Gita or what?
Anyway, conclusion: I’d rather write an essay my heart agrees fully with than write what I feel people expect from me. I’d rather write a post that is completely in alignment with my values and feelings than hit the publish button ever again for something I am not fully satisfied with.
And my first ever writer’s advice: I would suggest you do the same.
*I know you’re all wondering: yes, even my
Morning Evening Pages are done in English. Why not French? You tell me. I’m clueless.