Let Go and Let Flow
When you write for a living--in my case as a grant writer, blog writer, newsletter writer, appeal writer, e-blast writer, and every-other-type-of-miscellaneous-communication-writer for the non profit, Plant With Purpose--every word counts.
I budget my time and my words. I only spend time working on projects that could be useful, writing words and sentences that will end up on donor's screens and mailboxes.
There's no time for fluff or play when the words I write could impact the lives of families around the world (more on my narcissistic, save-the-world guilt complex later).
Which is why I've decided to let go and let flow.
I've started a twelve-week challenge to foster creative freedom called The Artist's Way at Work. The foundation of The Artist's Way rests on a seemingly useless commitment to writing Morning Pages.
Specifically, Morning Pages are three pages of handwritten (who still hand writes anything longer than a to do list these days?!), free flowing, stream of consciousness (ie purposeless) writing, done first thing in the morning before you've even had your coffee.
But Julia Cameron and her apparently millions of followers swear by the pages as the first and most crucial step toward unleashing creativity.
So I'm doing it. For the past two weeks, I've (mostly) written my morning pages everyday. Although sometimes they don't happen till after a workout or a cup of coffee, I've been pretty good about sticking to the regimen. And, you know what, I kind of like them.
For me the real discipline--and the real reward--is letting go of my compulsion to craft, to polish, to edit my thoughts and words for public consumption. To spend somewhere between 26:03 and 28:37 minutes (not that I'm keeping track) being Aly, uncut and uncensored, and remembering that my worth is not found in my ability to string together coherent sentences or complete a report or article or blog post. That my worth is not found in my own ability to create, but is inherent in me because of the One who created me.
The great poet, Scott Cairns, who I had the privilege of taking a class with this last semester, said, "Why would you want to write when you already know what you're going to say? That's called propaganda. We write to comes to terms with our lives."
The Morning Pages are helping me "come to terms" with my life. Through them I am reclaiming writing as a journey to self-discovery and God-discovery.
And, so far, I'm liking what I see.
To learn more about the Morning Pages, watch a video explanation here.
Or, if you absolutely refuse to write longhand or can't even remember how to form letters with a rudimentary object called a pen or pencil, there's a website called 750words.com where you can privately write the equivalent of three pages of longhand. This site has a ton of cool statistics, word trackers, and can even give you insight into your subconscious and metadata. If you're like me and love to geek out on words, I highly recommend this site.
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What do you think? Would you consider writing Morning Pages? What are your biggest objections?
Finding My Way
I've lost that loving feeling. That spark. That passion.
I've lost my joy and giddiness at work. My creativity.
I live on writing, on creating, on explaining. For years I would literally jump and twirl for joy (just ask my coworkers) when writing a new blog post or putting the finishing touches on a grant proposal at work.
I loved explaining the intricacies of transformational development and desertification. I loved thinking up new ways to share my favorite story ever--the story of rural farmers overcoming poverty and transforming their lives. I loved writing the first couple of grant proposals. I loved improving on the next batch of proposals. I loved crafting reports on the funding we received. I loved following up on those reports the next year.
I loved it all the first four or five times around. I burned out some time between thinking up the 5th and 6th best way to explain what we do to the same funder.
I love the work that Plant With Purpose does, but I no longer love the work that I do.
God has other for plans for me, I know. Exciting plans. Only-God plans for only-God dreams.
But for now, I've lost that loving feeling and I still have 25 more days with Plant With Purpose.
I'm desperate for a spark of hope. I know God WILL restore my joy. I know He's up to something crazy stupid good. But I want to see Him now. I hunger, ache, for a sliver of joy to hold me over. To assure me that I won't always feel this burnout. That my brain won't always feel like mush and that God won't just move at some unforeseen point in the future when He clears a way, but that He can and He will move NOW. That He is present NOW. That His joy is for the taking NOW.
On Tuesday I shared a quote from T.S. Eliot's play, The Rock, that really struck a chord with me. I've been mulling over this phrase in particular:
"Knowledge of words, and ignorance of the Word."
At work, I've lost my words. I can still complete assignments, meet deadlines, operate on auto-pilot. But I've lost the words that flowed so freely, out of love and joy. I wonder, Is this a chance to experience more of The Word?
Can He move? Will He move NOW?
I'm losing hope. Burnout has taught me to identify myself by my own inadequacies. Burnout has forced me to admit that I can't accomplish what I want. Burnout has cornered me into believing that I will never accomplish what I want. That I will never care. Never grow. Never be passionate again. Burnout has pumped poisonous lies into my bloodstream and I'm scared I will never wash clean.
Daniel Taylor wrote, "Freedom is useless if we don't exercise it as characters making choices... We are free to change the stories by which we live. Because we are genuine characters, and not mere puppets, we can choose our defining stories. We can do so because we actively participate in the creation of our stories. We are co-authors as well as characters. Few things are as encouraging as the realization that things can be different and that we can have a role in making them so."
Burnout wants to claim my life, my thoughts, my time, my last 25 days at work. But I believe in change, in growth. I believe I can change; things can look different.
The best analogy I can come up with for my current state is that of a depressed person who has decided to move forward with treatment (medicine and counseling), but who hasn't yet started the treatment yet. I know a break is what I need. A new country, a new job, a new challenge give me hope of healing, but I'm not there yet.
But even now, before the metaphorical drugs kick in, I can take baby steps. I can choose health. I can choose to fight the lies. I can have a role in making things look different. And I can give myself grace when change is slow going.
I am taking an important step. Desperate times call for desperate measures: I'm starting a twelve week program to sober up from my toxic thoughts. More like a twelve-week challenge to foster creative freedom. To bring back that loving feeling.
One of my wonderful coworkers bought me The Artist's Way at Work. I've gone through The Artist's Way before and have been transformed by the weeks of intentional focus on creativity. In creating, I experience God.
Even in this time of burnout, I will fight for my creativity. I will choose to start this program now. I will choose to believe that things can look different. That I can experience His joy now.
If you're a creative, or a blocked creative, or a wannabe creative, I highly recommend The Artist's Way-- either for work or the original. There are a ton of really cool exercises to combat our inner critics, to nurture our dreams, and to enjoy the great gifts our Creator has given us and to learn to use them to bring healing and hope to our world.
Exercise by exercise, page by page, and week by week, I will use my words to glorify The Word. I'm excited to share how God moves, and I will pass along useful tips and assignments to help you in your own creative journey.
T.S. Tuesday: Nurturing Creativity
"Anxiety is the hand maiden (aka slave) of creativity." T.S. Eliot. Word.
And a few more words and inspiration from Elizabeth Gilbert. Enjoy: