Writing When It's Hard

Today I promised I would post on my blog. I don't particularly want to because it is a beautiful day and I want to get out in the great outdoors and put the garden to bed; prepare it for winter. I want to chop wood--well, break up kindling which is something I am much more capable of these days. I want to go for a walk with my camera. Sit and scribble or draw pictures of Handsome the Rooster in my journal. Because I feel good in this cooler weather. I want to do anything, in fact, that takes me outdoors and keeps me active as opposed to writing a blog post!

Some days I don't want to post because I feel bad. I don't want to wait until I do feel bad to write about that because it is much less likely that I will. So, I'll try to write about it now, on a good day, which I don't want to do because I do feel good and who wants to write about feeling bad when you're feeling good? See how hard this is? It's important though, and I know I'm not alone, so I want to share this.

What keeps me writing when I don't feel like it? Here's a word we have darn near lost from our vocabulary--commitment. Some of us wish it would get lost along with dozens of other words like discipline, motivation, dedication. Sometimes I simply write because I said I would, and that is enough. It's a promise to myself and I believe heartily in keeping my promises--to myself and to others. Also, I have a Shero; a writer from a time when there was little help for illnesses like mine. Her name is Flannery O'Connor. She had lupus. She wrote until she couldn't. Really, physically could not. She was one of the best short story writers that ever lived. Google her if you aren't familiar.

I have a couple of inflammatory autoimmune diseases. This is no plea for pity, although I want you to know you aren't the only one if you have a couple, too. I have lupus and Sjogrens. These are illnesses that are hard on the joints in particular, the lubrication of the eyes and mouth, and some organs, especially the lining around the organs. They are not life-threatening for me, at least at this time. I have treatments that help and I'm lucky to have the VA as my insurance. At least I feel lucky about that most of the time.

I am telling you this because lots of artists have physical problems that make them want to quit creating. But we know that putting the brakes on our creativity would be one of the worst things we could do for ourselves. I believe my illness would worsen if I quite writing. If I decided my creativity did not take precedence over how I was feeling on any given day, then I may as well lay it down and give it up.

Writing is like eating healthy (Leigh argues that popcorn is not "healthy") food to me. Sometimes, I may not be hungry but I know I need to eat, so I do. Writing is like going for a walk when I wish I could stay in bed and feel sorry for myself. I get up, put on my sneakers and cap (I do NOT have to look good--let go of that), and put one foot in front of the other. I always feel better afterwards. Picking up my pen, going to my blog post page, writing a letter to a friend (even if I have to do these things in bed, which I find is the most comfortable place for me) all these things make my life worth living. Life has meaning. I have a purpose for being here. These are the two precepts on which I base my being; my raison d'etre, as it were. And oh yeah, love. But that's a post for another day.

Yesterday was my Hen's Teeth writing group. I dreaded getting out of bed (which I could barely do), taking a shower (which I had to do to make my muscles and joints move) and driving the distance to the library where we meet. And first I had to revise my Villanelle, which was our assignment for this week. I did it. I did it all and I made it, nearly on time, too. I wasn't the happiest person there. And everyone seemed to do a better job than me at their work. But I was THERE, and to me that was what counted. I honored my commitment. I learned from my friends. I was surrounded by my loving and compassionate writing community, whether they knew how I was feeling or not. That didn't matter. We all have problems at one time or another, and yet we show up. We keep showing up.

And so this week, I implore you to show up, too. If you feel really bad, write about it. Circle yourself with words of compassion. Write a chant of healing. Read it to yourself and encircle your creative friends with those words of goodness written during a bad time. You'll find it's darn near magical. There is tremendous power behind these words: commitment, dedication, motivation, discipline. Let them be your guiding principles on the days you feel you just can't do it. Then do it anyway. However you can; from whatever position you can, keep working. The payoff is the feeling that you are fulfilling your purpose. Once again, you are winning!