No Expectations Challenge: Day 11 & 12
I have fallen into a trap and desperately need a kick in the pants back to reality. I have had a hard time writing this week because I don’t feel like I have anything noteworthy to write.
Why, hello expectations, nice to see ya. Now, leave!
I have been under the impression that everything I write has to be insightful or good enough to even share in this space. As I was reading Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert, she mentioned that in order to fulfill your creative passion you should be doing it everyday. Finding those moments, in my case, to write even if its a mere 15 minutes. She reminded me to treat writing as a love affair. To sneak away to write. To find time during the day to do it no matter what. Hmm, this sounds vaguely familiar to when I hide in the closet to meditate or to take some time for myself.
There is definitely 15-30 minutes in my day to write. Probably more. What will get me to do it daily is remembering that most of what I write is not going to be brilliant and that is ok. In fact, it might be crap and that is alright with me as long as I get to be doing something that fill me up and brings me joy.
And nothing more.
Most day I sit down to write because I truly enjoy the process. I’m not relying on my writing to pay me (if it does, bonus). I’m not relying on my work to change the world (it’s cool if that happens, too). What I plan to do is allow myself to become engulfed in what I am writing for the day. Letting the words flow out of my head and onto the paper. Writing because I love it and can work on my craft becoming better with each stroke of the pen.
Sure, I am aware that I have more time than most people to write and I don’t take advantage of it enough. Up until now, I didn’t think of myself totally as a writer but someone who wrote to express her thoughts. I thought a writer published books through a major company, wrote articles in magazines in exchange for money, or wrote for tv shows. I didn’t give myself enough credit to truly call myself a writer.
Don’t all writers get paid? That’s what I assumed. But guess what? Through practicing and being able to exude creativity through my words means I am a writer. As I sit here, I realize that I have been a writer for years but it’s not till right at this moment that I am declaring it. There will be those days where the words flow seamlessly onto the page and there will be days I will be willing the words to come out even if its one sentence of a jumbled mess.
Somedays I might ask mundane questions like, “How do stinkbugs get into my house? (Something I am currently questioning.) The next I will contemplating the meaning of life. There will be days when I can’t wait to share my material on the blog and others when I will think, “Who is going to read this?”
It doesn’t matter.
All that matters is that from this day forward writing is a form of self-care for me. To unleash my thoughts out from my head onto paper. To not stress about what comes out but to allow it with all my soul. Today I will stop expecting everything I write to be the best and to write for the sheer love of writing.