Posted by jonvon on November 18, 2004 at 16:20:42:
In Reply to: Re: here is another story for you posted by PS on November 14, 2004 at 15:12:33:
: I think it has to be, at least if we really think that what we do matters, if it means something. If it matters at all to humanity, to the ones we love, and especially to ourselves, that is, our identity and our value, it absolutely MUST scare the hell out of us, don't you think?
i do tend to think so, but i hold open the possibility that someone might not feel that way, someone healthier than me. i read something recently that talked about a trap that many writers fall into, either believing that their work was more important than it is, or that it was total crap and they need to just quit writing or curl up in a fetal position or throw themselves off of a bridge, etc. hehe, my paraphrase / liberty there...
i know i have fallen into both extremes many times, experiencing both in practically the same moment at times. i think it is part of the territory any artist traverses. writers seem to be especially subject to this particular problem. the thing is, either believing that your work is really darn important or that it totally sucks is about ego, and in the final analysis dwelling on either extreme becomes a distraction from getting the work done. seen from this light the desire to think along these lines is a kind of temptation, one that i struggle with quite a lot more than i would like to admit. i hate it. it is one of the many many things that seems to keep me from writing.
: I realize I have not really addressed the fear of the process, but that concept is a bit strange to me, I'll admit. You may be way ahead of me in engaging that reality. I don't think I am afraid of the process, per se, only discovering meaninglessness in/through it, or perhaps receiving something beautiful that nobody else can fathom or validate. The possibility of those results would be terrifying to me.
now it is my turn to not totally relate. especially the part about "receiving" something. i'm not too sure i know what that is about. i have experienced moments where it felt as though there was something Other that was in a sense speaking through me as i was writing. a rare experience, to feel that full on, as though you are not completely in control. wonderful and scary at the same time.
i wonder if it is that everyone has a mirror. to look deeply at your vocation, or your work whatever that happens to be, is like staring into a mirror. it is a way of looking at yourself. or, maybe through looking deeply into what and who you are, you end up finding your vocation, assuming you have one that is somehow primary or in a personal sense above all other vocations. your über vocation.
maybe it is that if you look at your work and do not find yourself there, then you have some searching to do. but if you do find yourself in the context of your work then you are in a good place, whatever it is you are doing. in my case i have wanted to quit my job any number of times, but stayed because my family needed me there. and i ended up growing through it and finding a lot of joy. for instance, our development team won an industry award for a project i architected and coded. i've received a lot of recognition for my work internally as well. and the pay is pretty good and we have health insurance. so really i can't complain. it has gone from, "i have to get out of here", to "this isn't so bad" to "i love coming to work."
also, maybe some people don't have an über vocation (maybe no one does, is that just a romantic notion?), but a set of somewhat equally engaging things that they do. i would think that this might be a healthy way to think about life, actually. it is kinda hard to have that one thing that haunts you your whole life. especially if you haven't figured out how to go about it. or to be haunted by the notion that you haven't found that "one" thing yet. maybe that is why i am more at peace with the writing thing now. i have basically three things i care about, family, work, and writing. pretty much in order, as work is in service to my family, and my family is above everything else. so really my über vocation is taking care of my family. and i'm glad about that.
so then, when you stare into that mirror, you see things. some of the things are pleasing, others are not. some are downright scary. for you, perhaps as a writer or a scholar you fear not being relevant, or being misunderstood or not apprehended at all. for me it isn't so much about being relevant per se, but i have my own demons.
for me it is about looking into myself, getting past myself to be able to write. writing is about exposing myself on the page. in a moment of inspiration it happens quickly and i don't really notice it. to contemplate writing a very large piece, like a novel or maybe a novelette, well i don't know why exactly but it gives me pause. scares the crap right out of me in fact. i realize that i am going to have to surmount a number of different things including my own inertia and my tendency to get bored with what i am doing and move on to something else. and perhaps most of all, i am going to be writing about myself for a long time.
they say that "everyone in your dream is really you" (i think that quote, my paraphrase of course, comes from Jung). i had one dream where i could literally see the fabric of the dream, and it was definitely proceeding from my own mind. i could even control the creation of the dream to some degree. i could create a character, change one character to another one. there is no doubt in my mind that this saying is true.
i think it is the same in a work of fiction, which is the only kind of writing i am interested in doing. every character is you, in some way. the world you write about is you. place is a character, things are characters. if they aren't then they don't belong in the writing. all of the elements are you, in some way or another.
so the contemplation of writing a very long piece is for me like taking a breath before plunging into an activity that i might not survive. it probably is not a contemplation worth doing. reminds me of that Yoda quote, "there is no try". you just have to do it, and stop yourself from thinking about the fact that you are going to do it.
it is more about knowing i am going to do it than doing it, i think. this is where the paralysis comes in. there is also the fact that it is in all likelihood going to be a long, painful work. it isn't easy, except in those moments when you are inspired. i am not sure to what degree this fear is founded on something real. hopefully i will know better in a few years.
in that contemplation which i am now trying to avoid, on some level i sort of "realize", if i can use that word, i might not survive showing myself to me, in other words. i am going to engage in a very long drawn out process in which i unwind long lines, and spin them into shapes on the page, and those lines will be at times hard fought, and they will be the representation of my own essence. they will invoke my essence, if i am successful. something like that. and i may meet a Me that i am not comfortable with. drawing myself out like that, it is a rather astounding thing to comtemplate.
but i guess that is why i don't fear the irrelevance thing. i am writing me, drawing myself out onto the page. i am always going to be relevant to me. i am interested in me, fascinated actually. and this me that i write about, there is a pool in there somewhere. i am drawing up things from it that are the same things that anyone has ever written about. that same pool is in all of us. and so these things are relevant to everyone, really. i mean they have to be. if i succeed in really finding myself and expressing myself honestly, then it has to be relevant, because i am not really that different from anyone else.
so it is a slippery sort of paradox i guess. i am writing about me, in some way or another, through metaphorical and hopefully at least somewhat poetic language, but i am looking to escape the traps of ego. in other words i want to write about the real me, and not the me that my ego imagines.
: I can so relate to the "writing but not writing as I wish to" scenario. Of course, my life is more formally regimented toward developing the writing & critical thinking skills that I desire to use, and in this, I may have felt less frustrated in my "waiting mode." But I think you must know that you have been in the same developmental mode in very real and purposeful ways, with substantial and meaningful development taking place, however veiled the form (formality) of that reality may be. One day you will likely see that very clearly, and it will be hugely inspiring.
i think i have been, certainly, preparing for this on many levels for a long time. maybe the most important has had to do with something related to personal development / maturity. i was talking to my aunt chris recently. she is a flautist. she is teaching now at East Carolina University and just got back from a long stint in Taiwan. we talked about this, how as a performance artist she can only produce what is inside her. and that growing and becoming a more mature person has a direct effect on what she is able to play. she plays, she performs, what she is. and this is important even though she is often playing music written hundreds of years ago. it is still her playing ultimately, and she will either bring something to the music or it will fall dead on the floor.
i heard a guy recently say something like, if a performance is predictable it is cheap, but if it is inevitable it is inspiring.
he was talking about this in the context of a conversationn about his many performances on cello playing Bach. i think this is where one might aspire to move beyond ego, into a place where the performance, the writing, whatever, is invetible. if i am writing about the true me, whatever that is, then my performance is inevitable as it is proceeding directly from the ground of my being.
: ...and perhaps pushing you to believe that others might really DIG IT, that many people might find your creations wonderful, compelling, inspiring, intoxicating, and beautiful, and hopefully, on some levels, deeply troubling as well. I could not imagine anything you would create being otherwise. Lest that sentiment be misconstrued: something that is fearfully disturbing and transfixingly wonder-full at the same time is rare indeed. You are one person I know whom I believe could perform that miracle.
thanks steve. as i wrote briefly to you, your friendship has always been a place of refuge for me. you have a great kindness in you that is ferociously strong. that first church you started in this area, The Refuge, that Name has always meant so much to me. i can feel that refuge in your words and i can feel your heart. it is a place that is encompassing. it believes all things, if i can put it that way without degenerating into cliches. you believe in people, in your friends. it is a beautiful thing. it is like an invisible pair of arms reaching out across the room. i have always seen it as so beautiful, like the beauty i find in a very magical book. it is the same darkling power i am reminded of when i think about Until We Have Faces, the very same power. i don't know if that makes any sense, but that is how it comes together in my head.
thanks for being such a good friend.