In the quiet . . .
A permission slip for space and rest
Many years ago, when I was a newbie writer, I looked ahead at my calendar, saw the expanse of days that is known as winter break on the academic calendar and thought "I shall finish the first draft of my novel during my time off.” Before I continue with this story, let me offer two important points of clarification:
The draft of said novel was not close to done. By finish, I did not mean write the last chapter. While I don’t recall the specifics, I’m certain there was at least one third of story left to write (so, like 30,000 words / 65+ pages)
Winter break for university affiliated people who are not students or faculty is not the full mid-December to mid-January time that classes don’t meet. It’s typically two weeks right around the Christmas and New Years holiday. (Which is amazing and more time than most people get— but it’s a common misunderstanding that the whole industry shuts down for a month).
I clarify those two things to make it clear that my goal was to write tens of thousands of words during a two week time period (which also happened to contain two holidays I celebrate).
I completely and utterly failed at that goal.
Right, because it was a ridiculous goal, you might be saying in your head as you read this. And present day me, sitting here with the gift of distance from the situation, and age, and dare I say a bit of wisdom— agrees whole-heartedly. But back then newbie writer me was devastated.
I had all this time off and not only didn’t I finish this thing, but I didn’t even come close. I’m just not that serious of a writer if I can’t buckle down and do this. I really wasted my time. [Insert Name of Author I Saw at a Conference Who States They Make 6 Figures] writes two books a year— how am I ever going to meet that pace if I can’t even finish part of a book in two weeks . . .
On and on and on the non-stop feedback loop of these things played through my head: not dedicated enough, not fast enough, not serious enough.
Just.
Not.
Enough.
I was deeply in the throes of I Must Make Writing My Career at the time and so any free moment not spent building that career was wasted time. While I have a vivid memory of that one specific winter break goal, there were countless other times in that period of life that I felt unproductive and like I was wasting precious free hours: when I didn’t carve out time on vacation to write; any time I had a random day off from my university work didn’t spend eight hours in front of my computer. I was never going to make a living from my writing if I couldn’t up my productivity.
A bit of a mindset shift started to happen for me when I stumbled on this in Elizabeth Gilbert’s Big Magic:
…the first ten years of my creative journey, I did not make a single dime out of writing. And for the next ten years of my creative journey (which included the publication of three books) I always kept alternative day jobs —always made sure I had other streams of income to rely upon. I did not quit all my other jobs until EAT PRAY LOVE became a crazy bestseller, you guys. And EAT PRAY LOVE was a freak of nature. The reason I always maintained other streams of income was because I never wanted to burden my creativity with the task of providing for me in the material world.
It was the first time that I’d thought about the fact that perhaps putting all this pressure on my writing to make money was affecting my creativity. That I was essentially making the very hard work of writing, even harder by asking too much of it.
It was also the first time that I started to think of my work outside of writing as something other than a barrier to my writing career. About the fact that perhaps the stability of it was imperative to the very soul of my creativity. What if instead of the constant conflict I allowed the two to live side-by-side? To recognize that one was supporting the other.
I found myself coming back to the phrase “ . . . never wanted to burden my creativity with the task of providing for me in the material world,” over and over again. I still do. I’m still learning. In many ways this desire to write all the time and follow all some other person’s best practices and make all the money publishing my own work just morphed into getting an agent and a book deal and publishing traditionally. Which is at its core still about burdening my creativity with my livelihood.
While I still wrestle regularly with this deeply complicated relationship with livelihood and creativity— one thing I have learned to set down over the years is the concept that every bit of time off from my income-providing profession must be spent in service of my writing profession.
I’ve come to understand that space is in fact of the creative process. Space away from my work, whether its as small as going for a walk or run or as big as taking time off for the holidays— always brings clarity. It’s hard to see something objectively or holistically without backing up from it, like how a mosaic just looks like tiny shards of things up close and the patterns appear when you back up. It’s important to take time away from it all. The creative work and the work that supports the creative work. Both are served by periods of backing away.
Of not doing.
Similarly, I’ve come to acknowledge that time with family and friends is precious and doing my best to be truly present in those moments is important. In addition to the fact that the simple math of words to write to time to write didn’t work in my Finish the Novel over Winter Break plan, it also didn’t acknowledge that those particular two weeks included the Christmas and New Years holidays. Which is to say two weeks packed with holiday parties and family gatherings. Things I become more and more aware of the fleeting, ever-changing nature of each year. Interactions that I cheapen when I’m thinking about how I didn’t meet a word count or that I need to get home from at a certain time from to insure that I meet a writing goal. Last minute things I turn down over self-imposed deadlines.
So what does this time of year look like for me now? I typically try to write some most days on my break, just adhering to my normal morning schedule when possible. I also typically have a couple days where I can spend more time than average on creative project. But I don’t set arduous (read: ridiculous) goals for these two weeks anymore.
I share all this today to say, if you find yourself with a bit of space this time of year, I encourage you to take it. Maybe sleep in a little. Or linger over your coffee a bit longer. Try to actually be in the moment at that family dinner. Say yes to that last minute lunch with a friend. If you have a patch of time to create- by all means do, but hold to that loosely. There will be time for ritual and routine in the new year, but for now we can give ourselves permission to be a little more still. A little more present.
Just a bit more quiet.
Beautiful Thing of the Week
Just a couple songs I thought about while writing this. (Find more things of beauty in last week’s post- including some great book recommendations, if you’re looking to take a little rest by unwinding with a good read).
🎶 The line “in the quiet, in the crowd” kept rolling through my head while I was writing this. So I pulled this up and listened to it:
🎶 Which made me think about how this song from TALK, reminds me of early Mumford & Sons (in all the best ways), so I listened to it, too:
What does this time of year look like for you? Do you have time off? Is there space for quiet in there?
Be well, find tiny joy,
Mary Chris