Day 115: I Wish I Would Stop Wishing

Today, I’m going to give myself a long overdue pep talk. I’m going to tell myself something I’ve told myself before but need to again.

Self, stop spending your time thinking about things you want to create and spend your time creating them.

I need this pep talk because I realize I’m letting myself down. I realize I’m not doing everything I can to make myself a more complete and happier person. I'm holding myself back. Why? I’m afraid what I produce won’t be good enough. It's that simple. 

I’m thinking these things because of a conversation I had today that centered on wishing for things instead of doing things, about talking about doing things instead of just getting to work.

Time to stop wasting time.

I’ve had a similar conversation with several people over the years about writing and art in general. Somehow the topic of being a writer will come up, and the other person will say something along the lines of, “I wish I could write.” My contention is and always will be that you can. My contention is that everyone can write. You just have to do it. Make no mistake, I do believe there are different levels of writing. Some writers are extremely vulnerable and will take their writing places that a majority of people fear to visit, let alone document and share publically. Some writers have immense vocabularies and use that skill well. Others possess the same wealth of words but use them poorly. Some writers are structurally perfect and abide by all the grammar rules. Others barely know what an adjective is but express meaning and emotion flawlessly, if not unconventionally. But no matter what “level” of writer a person falls into, my contention is that they can write. Why? Because every individual has a distinct, meaningful voice. Some people just don’t know how to use that voice or don’t want to use that voice or been told their voice doesn’t matter or been threatened not to use that voice or are waiting for a good reason to use the voice or are attached to any number of different situations for which they don’t put pen to paper. But they still have a voice.

In all honesty, I have no idea how good of a writer I am. I really don’t have a good idea of what even constitutes a good writer. I know that when I read someone’s stuff I recognize what I believe is good or not, but as for myself, I really can’t be objective about it. There used to be a time when I cared. Over the years, though, I’ve sincerely stopped giving a crap. Someone thinks I’m good enough to pay me to do it every day, so there’s that, and sitting at a desk writing for a living is a hell of a lot easier on the body and my personal longevity than digging holes, working in a construction job, landscaping yards, sucking up fumes in a factory, and a lot of other jobs. And I speak from lots of experience there. But although I take pride in my work, which is writing, I don’t really care anymore whether I perceive it to be good or not. There are more important things for me to care about, such as focusing on what my writing is saying vs. how well I’m saying it.   

I myself have said many, many times, “I wish I could paint” or “I wish I could draw” or “I wish I could take photographs.” The thing is, I can and I do. It’s just that what I produce isn’t at the level that I would like it to be, so I don’t do it nearly enough, although I enjoy doing it. So, I understand what people are trying to convey when they say “I can’t write.” But this is all bullshit. Despite not being able to obtain or display a certain skill level, my paintings and drawings are still uniquely mine. They represent my vision, just as my writing represents my thoughts and perceptions and purpose. Why not do it?

Too often, I think the message gets buried in the structure. Some people take a real nice photograph with plenty of smiles and big wide teeth showing, but what are they saying? They’re documenting a moment in time, but what is the message? Sometimes, I can’t tell. In other words, I’d rather read someone’s grammatically incorrect sentences that are full of truth and reason and emotion and honesty than someone’s pristine copy that only regurgitates what a whole lot of people have previously uttered. I want perspective. I want insight. I want opinion. I want uniqueness. I want personal observations and retrospections. I don’t want static. I don’t want vanilla. I don’t want gloss or flash or unwavering by-the-rulebook mish mash. I want grit and grime. I want words that are meant to instigate thought, not impress because of sound sentence structure. Screw that. I’d rather read something from someone who “can’t write” than someone who can but has nothing to say.

The world would be a better place if everyone was forced to produce art. To really produce art. Not manufacture it, but build it from the bottom up. If everyone had to stop for a half hour a week and turn the TV off, put the cell phone down, and hone in on what they’re seeing and hearing and feeling and transfer that into something the world would be better.

Guys who build motorcycles and cars? That’s art. Women who sew quilts? That’s art. Chefs who shape food? Art. Backyard gardeners? Art. What makes them different from people who say “I wish I could . . .”? They do it. What the hell are we afraid of? Someone won’t like what we turn out? So what? Someone might snicker? Big flipping deal. It might not meet our personal standards? So, alter your standards. Just create. There’s no failure in trying. And that goes for myself.