Art is part of the larger ecosystem of our lives. Organic, growing and changing constantly, it lives within the interplay of all we experience.
Our task is to create from the deepest place possible for that is where we are connected to the mystery that is All.
The Tension between Art and Life
My last newsletter was several months ago, and there’s a reason for that which I’m going to try to unpack. In that newsletter, I said that I wanted to be more than a writer, and that I wanted my writing to come from a more spiritual place. So, since the beginning of Italy’s endless lockdown, I’ve been reading, praying, trying on different ways of thinking about our purpose here in this world, trying to figure out what I really believe, and who I really am, and who I really want to be.
I could write a book on that, but it would come out as the disjoined ramblings of a crazy person. I have identified some issues that perhaps a lot of us face, whether we are writers or not.
1. Defining ourselves by what we do. This was HUGE for me and it has absolutely paralyzed me for the last year and a half as I have struggled to try to figure out how NOT to be ONLY a writer. I’m not a mother, I’m not a wife, I’m not accomplished in any career, I’m not even a sister or anyone’s wicked step-mother. Being a writer and the director of a writing school defined me. Now, if I don’t “succeed” as a writer, am I a fraud?
However, this problem is not limited to those of us who can’t point to any achievements. A good friend who has five published books once said to me, “If I’m not a writer, I’m nothing.” Well, this person had an important career other than writing and had managed to raise three children who, in every way, appear to be well-adjusted adults, which is no small thing. So, while I totally got what she was saying, I was also amazed.
We see this not just in creatives but in people who have successful careers and then retire or get laid off. Who am I now? What am I worth?
2. Defining ourselves by our goal. I have always been such an optimist, have always believed that if you tried hard enough, perseverence would get you there. Well, I hate to admit this, but it may not get you to the place you’re dreaming of. It may get you somewhere satisfying, but you may have to accept something different than your plan. I finally landed a top-shelf New York agent who has sold nineteen books this year, including one last week. She said she “loved” my book. But in this year, she has not found a publisher for it. Now, I know, some of you are wanting to write me and say, “Don’t give up. Think of all the books that made it after being rejected, etc.” But, wouldn’t it be better for our mental health just not to care so much? Wouldn’t we be happier people and more at peace if we just did our art like prayer and set it free? I’m not saying we shouldn’t send it out or try to publish it or self-publish it. But I think we need to release it to its destiny and see it as what it is: one part of our fully-lived life.
3. Defining ourselves by our product. Published writers tell me they look back at their books after a few years and are appalled and wish they could rewrite them. I’ve spent the last year rewriting the novel that was my creative thesis for my MFA, and I wonder why they let me graduate. I feel guilty for putting those instructors through such agony. And I know that, ten years from now, if I read it again, I may feel the same way. I look at newsletters I wrote a while back, and I wish I hadn’t sent them.
This is another thing that can paralyze us. We don’t take the next step: whether it’s starting our project, joining a group, signing up for a class, putting outselves out there in some way, because we’re afraid we’ll do something wrong. If we let our product define us, then we want our product to be perfect.
I’ve been afraid to restart this newsletter because I didn’t feel sure exactly what direction to take. I’m certain we don’t need another newsletter with writing advice or encouragement to “just do it.” I’ve written plenty of those myself, but now there are zillions.
I do think that there is a need for the examination of the creative process from a deeper perspective and some conversations about how it fits into a fully-lived life. But am I ready yet to open up that dialogue? I don’t feel ready.
However, it occurred to me this morning that maybe I never will feel ready. And that it’s just my ego, once again, insisting that I can’t write unless I have answers. So, I’m not here to offer you answers but just to say, “this occurred to me. What do you think?”
We are more than what we do, more than our goals and dreams, more than the products we create. And yet, if we feel called to some creative process, that is important and should be honored. But that’s a conversation for another time.
If you have thoughts on any of this, it would be wonderful if you’d share them here. I don’t want to do all the talking.
Finding our stories . . . and ourselves.
— Alison
Thank you, Allison. Glad to hear from you about your inner struggle as well as your outer adventure. You are always an inspiration to me.
Thank you for sharing your thoughtful reflection. I’ve grappled with the Who Am I question over the years. I have a number of roles—mother and wife among them—that I cherish. On the creative side, I used to draw. I loved drawing and needed to draw. It was therapeutic. The drawings mattered, but less than the process of doing it. Now, late in life, I’ve started writing. I don’t know where it will lead. I hope I will be published. But even if not, I write because I need to and the journey is important to me. So, I’m a writer because I write, not because I have published works. Lastly (but really firstly) I’m anchored by my identity as a child of God, which gives me meaning and purpose amid the storms and dry spells of life. All the rest is focused through this lens and gives me the peace and freedom to explore in this great big world. To be simple me on this great big journey. Wishing you the best on yours.
Hi Lisa, Thanks for writing. It sounds like you’ve got your head on straight. To just be and create within the great breathing mystery of Divinity. How blessed we are. ❤️
So very well said. For those of us who enjoy moving words around on paper, I believe the goal or dream will always be elusive, as elusive as creating the absolutely perfect narrative. I like a moving target. And our success will hopefully be a measure calibrated within ourselves rather than one calibrated against any particular artist or body of work. We are, all of us, writers. We write. And, as I’ve aged, that has simply become enough.
Oh Doug, this is all so very wise. You are so right that the goal is simply the most beautiful, true story. Hold that thought. . .
After reading this article, I started thinking about the whole concept of “goals,” their place in life, and being without any. With absolutely no goals, one would not make it safely cross a street, so I guess it comes down to your “level” of goals. If someone does not worry about–or at least consider–the questions raised, I worry about them! I cannot fathom an intelligent human not ever asking themselves questions like “why am I here?” or “what have I accomplished?”. Most of us are not born with a driving urge to do only one certain thing our entire life (granted, there are exceptions–I just read “Chopin and Beyond” by world famous pianist Byron Janis who began playing at 3 years old and was helped along by numerous paranormal visits). I have found that goals develop as we move through life and as one fades for whatever reason (achieved, no longer relevant, proved unattainable) others can materialize. Some are even created–a friend once talked about how she retired and specifically went “fishing” for something to do. Of course, a real problem right now is Covid restricting which lakes you can even throw a hook into! And for those of us into the paranormal, what we don’t accomplish this time around means we come back to try again. In general, I suspect goals are moving targets for most of us, and if accomplished, can provide immense satisfaction and possibly enrich the lives of others, but for the perpetrator, it may mean “on to the next,” even if the “next” is just crossing another street.
Well yes, getting across the street without getting run over is definitely a good goal. And honestly, goals are the backbone of my entire existence. They certainly got me through this last year, and as I begin to think about our next step, my goals are the anchor points in a shifting life. The only thing I was trying to say about goals is that we are more than our goals. If we miss a goal, it’s not the end of us. Unless, of course, it was that one about crossing the street. 😄
“Wouldn’t we be happier people and more at peace if we just did our art like prayer and set it free?”
Alison, thank you for the candor and wisdom offered here. Doings, goals, products—I am nodding over each section, feeling no less mystified by my current (similar) writing path but heartened to continue to sit with the mystery (feeling virtually companioned and understood). Thank you.
However, whenever, wherever your novel lands, congrats on landing the agent who loves it, and please, keep writing to us . . .
Oh Laurie, how sweet. In a way I feel like I’m coming out of my burrow now. (I couldn’t even remember how to reply to these comments 😊. I had to figure that out all over again.) To recognize how we do so closely identify with these false definitions of ourselves is the first step to freedom. And then, as you say, to sit with the mystery–so much mystery. How the creative process works, how Divinity moves through us to reveal truth in whatever we write, memoir, fiction–it’s all seeking for the truth of our human situation. We are so blessed to have this calling.
Well. Shit.
I can relate to so much of what you’re saying. Here’s my story, and you can take it for what it’s worth. While I’m married and have a daughter and grandkids, I’ve ALWAYS, AND ONLY defined myself by my career, and especially my writing. It’s a myth this is a solely male trait. I am my own worst enemy because I submit, get a rejection, and feel it’s not, I’m not, good enough.
A few years ago, I was having such anxiety about it all, that someone recommended I take a Mindfulness workshop. Long story short, the 8-week mindfulness workshop was life changing. I’m not a Buddhist (though I follow much of the philosophy) and don’t sit around meditating all day. But what blew me away as I learned more was one of the basic tenants – “letting go of attachment.” (read this = https://tinybuddha.com/blog/letting-go-of-attachment-from-a-to-zen/ )
I was so attached to the outcome of my writing (publication) that I had daily anxiety about it (called “grasping” in mindfulness). My entire self-worth was based on whether or not I could publish anything. My happiness was based not on the process of writing, but on another person’s opinion of it. What I finally figured out was that I was letting someone else (agent, publisher, editor) control how I felt about myself. All of this grasping was more about my ego than my art.
So, I worked on letting go of the attachment to the outcome of publication. When I did, I started publishing more. Coincidence? Who knows. But I enjoyed the process of writing more. Now, I couldn’t care less if I get a book book published. I’ll keep trying, and if it happens, great! If not, maybe there’s another road to travel.
I still have imposter syndrome occasionally, still have my moments. I just have found that all the attachment to those outcomes was f’in exhausting, and something had to change inside of me for things to change outside of me.
I feel your pain. When we identify with our work so utterly, the rejection just crushes us because it is a dismissal of all we are. Our heads know better but not our hearts. And I believe you are right in that the antidote for this is 1) recognizing it and naming it, and 2) seeing it all within a much bigger, spiritual perspective. When we do that, ironically, our writing improves because we are writing from a deeper place.
Hi Allison,
Getting your newsletter made my day. and your topic was exactly what we need right now. Cuz with the state of the world, it’s time to ask ourselves who we are when we can’t be who we thought we were.
I decided last year that I would make all of my life art. To lose the separation between my “life” and my “art”. It’s all one thing now. What that did is deepen everything. Nothing is wasted, nothing lost.
I’ve noticed over the years that if an idea pops in my head to do something (like to write) then it means I’m ready, even if I tell myself I’m not. So my rule is that I have to do it. Take that leap.
Best,
Bri
Oh Bri, I love this whole idea of losing the separation between life and art. “What that did is deepen everything. Nothing is wasted, nothing lost.” So true. We live in metaphor. I believe that writers and artists are so blessed to see the deeper meaning in everything. And our task is to make that insight available to others. Finding our stories . . . and ourselves. ❤️
I agree! I’ve written a children’s book, had it self published and it sits in the closet. The price is high unless it is purchased as ebook.
Long story short… I started another book on the story of my life through paintings. An amateur painter worked with me on 21 commissioned paintings. Each painting is an event and time in my life. I’m praying for a co-author to work with me. It would be a visual witness to faith, strength and overcoming.
This goal has been sat within my mind and the keyboard.
May we all find comfort in who we are One moment at a time.
Thank you for letting us comment.
Hi Trish, What an interesting idea to tell your life through paintings. If I were to choose 21 moments in my life, I wonder what they would be? Wow, I’ll have to think about that. Thanks! And yes, may we all find comfort in who we are one moment at a time. Amen.
Hi Alison. Your post truly resonated with me, for a number of reasons. I completely understood your friend who is a mother of 3 but doesn’t consider being a mother as important as being an author. I suppose we just reflect back what society tells us. Or maybe it’s cultural, since the US is one of the few developed countries that does not guarantee child care to its citizens. On a different note, I have had the same experience with an agent; mine is also a top-level New York agent but it’s been over 2 years and she seems to be losing interest, despite her protests to the contrary. I had previously thought that getting an agent meant it was a done deal. Not so. Finally, I think having a goal is good, as long as it keeps us motivated rather than leading us to despair or to give up when it’s not reached. It’s hard to be zen about writing for writing’s sake. One always wants to see some progress, move on to the next hoop, and in this case it’s sitting down to write, then finishing it, then finding an agent, etc. It’s human nature, I think.
Hi Galya, Yes, we all thought that when we got an agent our problems were solved. At least we get to stop querying and focus more on writing. So there’s that. And you are right that a goal is absolutely necessary because this writing stuff is hard work. And the best goal is always there: to create the most beautiful thing that we possibly can.
Ever since we heard of the COVID trauma in Italy I’ve been wondering how you were faring in your hilltop town, Alison. It’s good to hear from you again.
I can relate to the questions you pose. Having just retired from my day job, now trying to focus on being the writer I’ve always wanted to be, I sometimes wonder what I’m doing. I no longer seem to be contributing to the world, and yet this business of writing is more thrilling, more fulfilling than any job I’ve held in my life so far.
What amazes me is how much I have to learn. Had I known that would I have started on this journey? It is daunting and motivating at the same time, like climbing a steep trail just to see what’s over the next ridge. I love that there is a new world opening up to me with each step forward, and I am intimidated by it too. I wonder if I’ll ever get good at this. Wonder if I’ll ever stop this pattern of avoiding it, plunging into it, avoiding again.
Being at this learning level of writing, I believe my self definition is one of student. No longer a professional, I am a 62 year old student who thrills at small success…the compliment of a reader in a critique group, the rejection note that didn’t sound like complete rejection…and sighs when it is clearly time to rewrite the damn draft again. And below that definition is the tug of the creative process you refer to, the sense that I am no greater or less than the trees and the flowers. They need to grow, to bloom, to thrust out their leaves. And I need to write. For better or worse, I just need to write.
Thanks for making me think about this.
Barbara, this is so lovely and so perfectly sums up the writing life. The joy, the frustration, the sense of having invested so much in something that only exists in the mind and heart. You are truly on the path. Write on!