Misadventurous

I wrote a rather lengthy note on “Creativity and Confidence” a few days ago, spilling all sorts of deep and not so little known “secrets” about my frustrations with not being able to write or articulate much of anything lately.  My problem with externalizing what I want to write hasn’t gone away but a great deal of my anxiety and anguish of the whole situation has – which as anyone can imagine, was mostly fueling the problem.

We all run into this kind of difficulty.  In a lot of cases, the only “cure” is to take a step back and let that phase run it’s course.  Sadly, as we all know – objectivity and common sense sometimes lose out in the face of frayed nerves and awkward emotions.
In his blog, the author CC Bye wrote about the impact of attitude on circumstance and I tend to agree with the following observation that he shared:

Nothing has changed since then, or even since before that time… or any of the other times I’ve considered throwing the towel in before.  I’m still the same person, with all of the same failings and limitations to which I turn a blind eye and give myself over to what I love doing  without reservations or self-vituperation.  At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter if I never write another word but I Know that I will when I’m able or moved to do so because it’s probably the only thing gives my life “meaning.”  It doesn’t matter if no one ever reads what I write or if everyone overlooks my message completely.
For me, writing can only ever be about existing not Doing.  How I exist as a human being holds far greater meaning to me than certain accomplishments and esteem.  That’s not to say, I’m above yearning for the improbable or the impossible… that’s seems to be my most prominent affliction, actually.  lolz

My friend M – every now and then, she gives in to this insane urge to burn her art and her writing. I’ve seen her work.  It’s original in style and possesses an almost incomprehensibly profound insight into human yearning.   I always wonder if I could do that.  To me, she sometimes seems to possess the infinite wisdom of those monks who could spend years constructing an intricate mandala only to watch calmly as it’s all carried away by the wind within the tiny space of an an instant.  Somehow, I long for the clarity that comes with being able to let go in that manner.  It’s one thing to say that time doesn’t matter or my hyper-awareness of my own insignificance is immaterial; acceptance is another story.  Or maybe one just needs a reminder every now and then.

I was grateful that my post from the other day was met with a great deal of encouragement and understanding – and to those friends who knew where I was coming from and were quick to offer their points of view on the matter, I remain thankful that our paths have crossed.