I’ve been a little afraid lately of the entire process around what will happen if I try to sit down and write. I’ve been avoiding the whole pursuit in an attempt to convince myself that I have writers block. Why you ask? Well my writing has always been tinged with a bit of sadness, of difficulty and rawness. These emotions, these challenges have been the inspiration, the foundation which underlies all of my writing. The last 6 weeks of my life however have been anything but that; for the first time I’m not questioning. So I’ve been subconsciously asking myself ever since, am I able to still create engaging content if I can’t tap into a certain level of despair? Is my artistry solely linked to that sceptical questioning that I have always wielded and inherent suffering?
As I attempt to unpack this entire element I have to step back and try to wield a certain level of rationality in which I self-assess in an objective way. I would be lying if I said that I am not doubting the scope of my ability at this time. Will I have anything to say if I continue to be happy, to be in love, to not have doubts about my future? I am just that writer whose power of my prose is to be found within the open wounds of my battle scars? Is that all I have to offer? I mean I know my writing translates because it’s raw and honest. But does my creativity solely stem from this struggling alone?
It’s a concept that seems to plague all artists, whether it be musicians, writers, poets or anything in between. Does happiness and love equate to the loss of inspiration, of creativity? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about these things. Because if I’m not producing content that is tinged with sadness or doubt or if I feel like my material is therefore hollow in some way, am I even still a writer?
See the thing is for me, I’ve always questioned the elements that indicate to socially conforming. Being coupled up, following the norm of getting married, having kids; actually the whole element of ‘settling down’ has been a precursor of utter puzzlement for me for such a long time. I’ve often labelled myself as a ‘commitment phobe’ which is actually a sheer understatement for the things I have felt around the idea of putting down roots in any which way. I remember always asking others who were in relationships, who had mortgages, who had kids…. but how do you know?! How do you know if that person is right for you, if that home is worth being saddled with a 30 year mortgage for, if you’re ready to take care of other human beings who are totally dependent on you?
I have always probed everything to do with all of this and to be honest, I think it’s that questioning that adds honesty to my writing and engages curiosity within my readership. But all of a sudden someone has come into my life and made me wonder if there was any validity to any of the things I was so fearful of. All of a sudden I’m not questioning anymore, or at least I’m not doubtful of the things I had so sharply veered away from for all these years. That of opening my heart up, of making myself completely vulnerable, of loving someone entirely. See even though it appeared that I wielded sheer bravery and fearlessness within my writing, I was a coward when it came to letting someone into my heart. I was terrified of bearing my soul to someone because the possibilities scared me so much. I suppose I drew on that fear within the margins of the sentences of the pages within my blogs.
What I have come to realise though is that change is inescapable. My writing has grown and progressed just as I have over the years, and for the better. The sources of my inspiration have shifted but this has never diminished the power of that text. So yes, the nature of my writing has will be different from now on. But perhaps that’s what my journey as a writer is all about. I mean I will still continue to struggle; my personal demons are still those which affect me daily. However the nature of that battle is slightly different. I have matured, the spectrum of emotions that I wield have changed. I’m now able to love in a way I never thought I was capable of. I have a renewed belief in partnership and a different vision for my life. This will be my renewed source of creativity and I will draw on this as my inspiration.
Now I’m not saying that the vision I had for myself before was wrong. But perhaps it was a little short sighted and tinged with the naivety of someone who was yet to meet another that would challenge all her worldviews; that would challenge her to open her heart so willingly. I’m no longer afraid of commitment, of the dreaded element of settling down. In know this now means that my writing will be rooted in a different sentiment. But I believe in my artistry and I trust in the evolution of my creativity as I embark on a new phase of my life.
Sx
I blog for Change. 