Being published?
or being deleted?
As you may know, I'm not a fan of the
publish button. It scares me.
But today, I met a greater fear. DELETION.
I was tweaking (yes, Joe Fox, I was
"t.w.e.a.k.i.n.g.") a blog post that I had been working on for the past 2 months. I started it before our big move to the city. It was very personal to me. A letter to New York City. Totally cliche, yes, but who cares. It was an attempt to re-visit and re-vive a part of myself that loves creative, stream-of-consciousness writing. I knew the words weren't perfect. I wrestle with rhythm and rhyme and tempo. Sometimes in attempting to be creative, I feel an overwhelming sense of LACK. Lack of vocabulary, lack of knowledge. As if the "Creative Writing" reference section on my library shelves holds only a few pages instead of a plethora of resources to glean from.
So I kept returning to this letter. Editing. Editing. It was almost finished. But it wasn't quite right. Maybe a part of me said it was silly.
"Look at you trying to be all poetic," said the critic voice.
"But it's in there," I said,
"I can feel it. It's not right yet, but it will be. Just keep working on it." And so I did. Not every day. But in moments of inspiration-- I did.
So there I was today, sitting at my desk, and I pulled up the post.
Okay. Let's re-visit. And I started to work. And then, because I needed to delete some of the text that I had just written I hit the "undo typing" short-cut keys. *poof* My unwanted phrase was gone. AND SO WAS MY ENTIRE POST.
Whaaaa....? What's going on? Okay. No problem. I'll just UNDO what I just DID. *undo, undo* Nope. NOTHING. What the-----??!!!!
WHERE IS MY FREAKING POST????????!!!!!!! So I googled. I goggled. I gaggled. And I found the culprit:
Auto-save. Really? Somehow I deleted ALL of my text... and before I could snatch it back,
auto-save went and SAVED THE BLANK PAGE.
Dear Auto-Save,
Thanks for helping me all those times.
UNTIL YOU TURNED AROUND
AND STABBED ME IN THE BACK.
We are not friends anymore.
J.
So what now? What's the solution?
a.) cry and lament and be angry at Blogger
b.) realize that you're being really stupid even though you are really sad
c.) decide to spend some time later to sweep the leftover crumbs from the post back together again.
For sure it will be a disaster trying to piece all those thoughts back together. Like a painting that was ALMOST finished, and then somehow fell and shattered. Do I have to piece it back together?? Can't I just give it up?
I know I'm not the best writer. An English degree I have. But a knack for effortless writing I have not. So IS IT OKAY to SHARE THE NOT-SO-PERFECT VERSION?
Where does the amateur writer GO who feels an intrinsic desire to express them self through the art of language? Is there a space for them to practice and and write and share their work without feeling meaningless? A space to
be a student-- even if you're not in school?
Can writers/performers/artists practice our craft without fear of judgement? Without the plethora of comparisons to everyone else who seems better?
Maybe that's our problem. We think because we're all growd-up we can't look the world in the eye and say
"Hi. I'm a student. I'm practicing. I'm performing. I'm learning." Somehow because we look grown on the outside, we are supposed to be accomplished performers by now, who have become experts in our chosen craft/field! Whatever we choose in our youth is what we have obviously been perfecting over the past 10, 20, 30, 40, 50+ years. Right? There's no shifting of gears! There's no change of profession! No re-discovery of a childhood passion or re-invention of yourself!
You choose what you are to be when you are young, and you become it. Isn't that what we ask children?
"What are you going to be when you grow up?" And we learn to give one, singular answer. We learn that we should choose while we're young and then stick to what we choose. We slap the roles and labels on our chest and wear them like medals. And other people see you wearing yours, so they feel that they have to wear theirs too. Soon, we are all wearing our labels. Why? It's easy. "Hi, I'm a this." "Hi, I'm a that."
"Oh, you're a this? How nice... Oh, you're a that? Wow, that's great."
"
Oh good for you. Look at your label. Such a noble, lucrative, solid label. You wear it so well. You look so happy. Where's my label? Well, it's here... haha, it's just all pieced together. Actually, I don't really have one label that I wear. If you really want to know, I gave up my passion and switched careers twice, and then was in a job that I hated, and now I'm working various random jobs while simultaneously building my artistic resume so that I can return to the work I love."
How do you put THAT on a label?
Maybe when we meet someone, instead of asking the inevitable--
"So, what do you do?"
We SHOULD ask--
"So, what do you love to do?"
A tiny difference in the question. A possible huge difference in the answer. Some people love their day jobs. And some people have day jobs so that they can love doing other things.
- - -
In the end, I'm still sitting here with myself and my dilemma: do I sweep up the crumbs of my deleted post and start over? Do I keep sharing my not-so-perfect work with others?
Maybe it really is better to put yourself out there. To practice in public. To write the word "student" on my forehead so that I can embrace not being an expert. To relax into the truth of my own story. To understand there are PIECES OF MYSELF on the journey... some are already well forged down the path... but some are just starting out.
Don't yell at those pieces just starting out,
those aspirations taking years to blossom,
and stumbling along the way.
Be patient. Be gentle.
Let them learn. Let them practice.
Let them make mistakes.
Take care of them.
Nourish them with inspiration.
Enlighten them with new experiences.
Embolden them with opportunities to shine.
For if you don't,... their path will become dim.
When they stumble, they will not have the strength to rise up.
And when they fall, they will become lost among the brambles.
And before you know it, you will forget they were ever there.
-JCW
"If you don't take care of your talent it will go away.
It's like a big baby... it needs to be fed."
-Annie Leibowitz
