Analogy

I remember Dr. Leech, one of my favorite profs from Anderson University, talking about the pride we have in our own personal creations. The work we go through, the struggle to bring forth something unique from our deepest selves, and the satisfaction we have in admiring our product (and even sharing it with others). Dr. Leech wasn’t a professor of art or music – his forte was in psychology. And the creation he was referring to was something that each of us produces (or tries to produce) every day.

I’ve been thinking a lot about what sends me to the computer or the piano to start writing. What happens before the “idea” or the “light bulb.” It’s a lot more fun when it hits me full on, and I run to the blank page because it’s coming and I want to catch it in time. But often this only happens because I have practiced being present when nothing at all is coming.

A relative of mine, who was on a special med that caused constipation, was told by his doctor to find a time each day to sit there and wait. Make it a habit of waiting at the same time each day, for 5 or 10 minutes. Don’t give up, and eventually, the block will be released and everything will flow again.

One friend suggested that I write music in order to move people, but I’m not sure that that is true. I think that I write because I need to get something out, I need to work out an idea. Sometimes I feel a song coming on, sometimes I feel a story coming on, and I rush to the computer or piano (in the same way that we rush to the nearest bathroom when we feel the . . .need.) After I have "emptied" myself (and hopefully didn't make too much of a mess at the piano or the computer) then I feel compelled to share. And then I hope that people feel connected, feel that my work was honest, I hope that they are affected and moved by it, and hope that they feel inspired to be creative, too.

I know that sitting and waiting is such an important key. Being present with a blank page. Accepting the fact that something might not come. But you are there, just in case.

Keep practicing this technique, and be prepared to move quickly when the lightning bolt hits.

Gotta run,

--Becky