Off the Cuff / My Other Journal

Inner Sanctum of Writing

Everything has an inside and an outside. Inside is hard work; outside is seductive.

For example, would you rather clean your home or go for a walk in the park? Most of us try do both because both are needed in necessary doses.

If stayed just on the outside, we'd find the outside to be tempting but also eventually dangerous and its allure fleeting. If we stayed only within ourselves, we'd have sharp insights, but we'd eventually give in to melancholy, loneliness, and depression.

Writing demands the writer's inside and outside together, but the inside job comes first. It is in the inside where the most provocative and important work is done. It is from the inside that we first commit to writing.

The undeniable pull we writers feel is the door that opens to motivation and staying power. On the other hand, the fantasy and mystique about what it means to be a writer during the first stages or the desire for outside acclaim is something to be cautious about because it only leads to disappointment and lowers the enthusiasm eventually. Struggling only for the glamour part is risky; even if, rarely, it can push a few writers forward and lead them into temporary popularity and, if lucky enough, inflated financial success.

After we start writing and end up trying our hand at it for a while, it is a good idea to stop playing it safe and making ourselves vulnerable. That is, after learning all we can learn of the craft, and then, going inside, monitoring and searching within every thought, every feeling, every motive, every dream, every plan, every fantasy, and every action we take, planned or unplanned.

This recharges the creativity and pushes us into the bravery of discovering our real selves. If not for fame and fortune, this courage of knowing oneself is worth every crumbled paper, every half-written text, and every rejection note. In other words, we end up writing in service, in service to ourselves and in service to others.This comes after we find the courage to scan our inner vista and decipher the interior life. Only then, we may say we are a true writer. Tough, isn't it!

And after having talked big for so long, the question to myself is, do I do all that? Truthfully, the answer is, no, not all that, not all the time, but some of that some of the time. There are moments when a part of me feels like a slave, and I find my writing so trite that I can cry. But then, at the end, I cannot not-write.

I may write an entire book or a small piece, only to realize that it is not the book or the piece I wanted to write. Yet, it may have some qualities, and what's in it may sound true for other people. This has happened to me many times over.

I think, the big lie is "Writing brings outside success." Fame is fine because it can be encouraging, but inner victory's value is incomparably greater. When we face our insides, our dark side, our unexamined values, joys, pain, and torment --without lying to ourselves--and take those apart, and reach to their cores, things that use to bring fear won't scare us anymore, and we understand the origin and center of our joys.

Then, for some writers, with practice, something miraculous happens. The words flow so powerfully and so fast that the writer feels he or she is taking dictation and cannot type fast enough.

Doing, scrapping, and re-doing, until the work runs us ragged, adds to the energy and familiarity with the writing process, as writing itself can be a powerful meditation practice that may lead to deep spiritual happiness, and I wish that for all my friends.