Last night, well the past 2 nights, I have been so caught up in trying to write something inspiring about my trip that I could feel a lump in me start to grow. One that I am oh so familiar with. It’s a block growing. Like a cancer, it sometimes creeps in and feeds off the anxiety of just wanting to be better. I decided to hold on and just start searching for little bits of inspiration. Searching travel blogs and suggestions on how to captivate an audience with my adventure through words. I was all over the damn place; I started to get frustrated(boring, NEXT, boring, NEXT). I couldn’t get past the Titles and Headlines. Then I came across this blog “Writing” by Coolpeppermint.
This wasn’t the travel blog, adventuristic kick in the ass, fucking be a word magician so people like you, inspiration I was looking for. However, it made me realize just how wrong I was about me writing. Beating myself up an allowing this dangerous anxiety of not knowing what to write take over. It can be debilitating for a writer; hell, I haven’t written anything worth reading in over 8 years because of it. So it made me nervous to even think I was feeling it. But the reality is I just needed to write and eventually something would come of it.
This journey I am on is not for other people it is mine. One thing I am working on is to quit coveting! comparing yourself to what others are is one of the most self destructive things someone can do. It takes you out of your moment and creates a false, futuristic, unbalance. And it is something that I used to do to the point I was not myself. It was what I thought I wanted to be based off of what everyone else was doing.
And I like how writing’s an avenue to sort things out. It’s like talking through a problem, but writing through ideas instead. I’ll start off with a nebulous idea of what I’m going for, or something I’m trying to get out and by the end of, oh, five or ten pages, I’ll have come to some conclusion. That, or at least have reached greater clarity on something than I would’ve if I hadn’t written it at all. Thinking is thinking: chaotic and constant. Feeling is feeling: sometimes uncontrollable and inexplicable and discomforting. Writing’s sorting through that. If my head were a tree raining varied thought-leaves, then writing’s my little rake.
This little paragraph had so much power for me. No need to fight. I just need to pull out “my little rake” and gather my “varied though-leaves”, pile them high and jump into them like a magical fall day. Youthful and full of vulnerability. Captivating and aligning my thought and wonders. I feel that the purity and honest-to-the-bone feeling of what I write will always be fair to me and if someone along the way is inspired, then it just makes it all the much better. But, from now on, I will transform myself into my own writing guru and learn how to spread the love back in, self inspiration; enjoying myself. So I can keep pouring out to you!
Sending love from Guanacaste! Purda Vida!
Sending Love From Guanacaste! Pura Vida