Not Your Own

I have a lot of thoughts and ideas that I want to see come into this world very badly. The uncertainty that this current constant state of flux brings, where it seems like the future is more unpredictable than ever, arouses a real sense of urgency in me to prioritize these creative fruitions on one hand. Yet there is also a natural inclination I feel to just dive in head first into my creative process. I admit there is a sort of desperation that has arisen within me because of all this. I understand that being reckless is dangerous, and it can cause anxiety for others sometimes, but there is a deep faith within me that says that this is the way. Whether it makes sense or not to anyone else, whether it is actually feasible or not, or if its consequences will be predominantly good or bad. Even if it seems a bit extreme, risky, senseless even. Isn't that the true nature of faith, though? Isn't that what we call courage?

Then there is that fundamental prerequisite, essential to the true process of creation. That of vision. There can be no courage in creative endeavors without vision, and the will to see that vision through, from start to end. Now those two can be very tricky things to put together. Vision is seeing something that isn't there, but it's more than that. To me, vision is a like seeing something before it's there. When you see something that doesn't exist yet but could, and more importantly, should in the future. 

Will is a bit more tricky on the other hand. The way I see it, will itself can only get you so far, about half the way there. That is, I don't think that people have some endless reserve of mental or emotional energy within them that keep growing over time, just because they decide to. I think that everyone has very real limits. We have so many biases and blindspots that hold us back. We only have so much energy we can spare. There are only 24 hours in the day. I believe that a person's circumstances and experiences do influence who they are as a person and what defines their limits, and some limits you just can't cross. This is where faith comes in. And this is what my point is: there cannot be any truly creative endeavors with these three qualities of Will, Vision, and Faith or Courage.

You need faith because you are going toward something that isn't there. You can see the vision and you can see yourself and where you are, but you can't quite figure out how to bridge the gap. And very difficult to do in truly abstract forms like storytelling. In more conventional things, you can find the closest thing and see how they did it, and work with very strict, solid rules to take it from there, because the real world's constraints are universal if nothing else. Now sure, when it comes to writing, the path is very well paved, there are so many things already that you can use that the experts know about.

So you look at something that's a great story and you see how they did it. And you realize that it doesn't really work because your thing builds up on that. And there are so many different branches and you're pulling from them all, and you see that's how they did this and that. But writing is this solitary practice where you venture out into the far lands of the imagination, always to newer horizons, and attempt to bring ever foreign ideas into the realm of the living, the realm of words. Meanwhile, education, training, coaching, and any systems designed to teach things, are inherently incompatible with this process itself. 

You can learn, train, take your time, and map it all out, but you're going into unventured lands, so it might not help you much. Yet of course awareness does help. The more aware you are about the rest of the world, the better you understand the limitations, and you can improve your chances. Yet ultimately what matters is to get to that vision. That will always be the core of this process, and it will be what makes the difference. 

By going into it blind, you risk danger, you risk failure, and wasted resources. But you also allow the possibility. The possibility of finding a new way, the possibility of paving a completely new path, forever open to anyone. If you fail, you learn, but you learn on your own, and you learn about yourself. Your process, your way, with your values and your voice, all of which can't be taught. So I think it's important to make an earnest effort before seeking counsel. The thing with writing is that it doesn't really cost much economically, other than the writer's time, and energy. I believe that I should be allowed to evaluate my own time and energy. This brings me to the title of this article.

Your life is not your own. Certainly true that I didn't choose to be born. I don't grow my own food or make my own clothes. I dare not claim that I come up with anything myself. I was taught the English language letter by letter and since then have downloaded all of this vast and intricate tapestry of ideas and spells that burst inside my brain from external sources indeed. It might not seem like it sometimes but there's nothing new under the sun, there really isn't. It's all different combinations of the same old pieces again and again in different ways. None of it has anything to do with me, yet I was given it all anyway. 

It's clear then that a debt is owed. I must repay all these wonderful things I have been blessed with in some way or another. Other people have pressing needs and wants and you need to coordinate with them because ultimately, it really is all about them. So it's not about me and I shouldn't really be able to decide the value of my own time and energy indeed. Then why do I choose to be reckless and take my time anyway? I do agree that it's not about me. Yet I take my time because it's not about me. 

The creative process is not about me. It's about the idea. It's about the vision of the creation. The creation that has nothing to do with me and the process that is indiscriminately, if not brutally paved precisely from where I am to wherever the hell the vision is from there. The way isn't clear but the goal calls out to me, asking me to drift away from everything I have ever known, toward unforeseen circumstances. Yet for me to create the things that maybe only I could create at this moment in time and bring them out to the world I must venture out. Surely the attempt itself is worth the risk. Regardless of my friends and family. Regardless of financial freedom and the pain that comes without it. Regardless of any personal suffering I face beyond the bare essential requirements for survival, which is all that I really need to make the journey. 

Such is the creative process. I wonder who else would agree?