The longer you go without writing, the harder it gets to go back to it, mostly due to the build-up of that age-old, familiar fear. I don’t have enough time, I’m too tired, I don’t know what to write, I’ll be committed tomorrow…bah. Looks like it’s time to punch myself in the gut again (figuratively speaking. I just ate.)!
I was reading a thing yesterday about comic artists and pushing through the hardships to achieve your dreams. Then I was reading a manga where the point of being alive is to work hard towards your ‘someday’, where you finally reach your goals through measured effort. The former, heavily paraphrased, ended with the line that pushing through is what would make you a warrior. And the latter, also heavily paraphrased, ended by saying that your goals are goals because they’re in the future – work towards them and don’t be downhearted when you don’t achieve them in the same day you set them out, because every day you work a little bit more that adds up to your achieving it. And in the meantime, just do stupid things and enjoy your life.
I really wish I didn’t have to keep reminding myself of this. I really wish that I didn’t waver so much, and didn’t need to be inspired by self help thingies. I wish I could just go out and do it.
But I guess, in the end, that’s what happens. I fall off the confidence and resolve wagon, and slowly realise that I’m looking at the stars, and then I get back up again. I guess so long as I keep going, I can just know that I’ll get there one day, instead of constantly worrying about my future. I was worried about my future when I was fifteen. Now I’m living my future, and everything’s pretty good. I’m about to move in with my boyfriend. I designed and made adorable little scented sachets for two friends’ birthdays. I finally finished compiling a care package for another friend. I went to dinner with two colleagues and had an awesome time. Marvel is coming out with some awesome movies, and the last Hobbit movie is due this December. Yeah, I’m stressed about money and things, but that always sorts itself out. Like, I’m stressed about finding a better job and making something of my degree, but like I’ve said before, pro-activity is the only way to do things. Work for that someday, and, like writing a novel, it’ll come as long as you keep putting the effort in. It’ll come all by itself, just because you set out for it, and put in the work, bit by bit.
For example, I was afraid to write this post, because it had been so long. I was afraid to write because I needed to leave for work, and I was worried it would take too long and I wouldn’t be able to finish it, and that I would put myself under pressure. Well, that kind of pressure is kind of inconsequential, isn’t it? I’m getting a lift, not a bus, so a few minutes isn’t going to make a difference. I don’t like to rush, but still, I need to not worry about time. There’s always time (but there’s also a fear that if I start to write I might not be able to stop, and then I’ll make myself late and I won’t be able to finish the writing…but that’s…just plain stupid. So, no).
Funny how I can’t get rid of the fears, no matter how hard I try to fight or accept them. It always comes back to them, and really, it comes back to me falling back into patterns I try so hard not to underestimate. Just keep on trucking, I guess. The only thing left is to prove my belief right and my fears wrong. When I spot the deviation, try to correct course as surely as possible. And in the meantime, put things into perspective. Everybody’s got hobbys and loves, work they need to do and goals they want to fulfil, short and long term. That’s a heck of a lot of stuff. That’s like a whole life’s worth of stuff, and a lot of good stuff to fill up the time we’ve got left to live.
So, even when I miss a deadline, or I’m terrified…I’ll just…do it anyway. If I’m scared that usually means it’s something I need to do anyway, and it’ll turn out just fine, like it usually does.
Case and point. I’m done this post now – with five minutes to spare. Fears – what fears? I’m a writer, I eat fears for dinner and turn them into fuel.