It is no secret, as I have mentioned many times before, that since writing my dissertation, I have developed a first-class writing block. I have never experienced anything of this magnitude before; if anything, writing was always one of those things that came easily, even in times when I wasn’t inspired to make jewellery or paint. Now it is all stuck in the pipes somewhere, and I feel like I’ve tried everything I know to restore the flow, but with very questionable results.
Yesterday, I tried to write a post about women in philosophy (something I have been noticing intensely, an observation that all my contacts and connections in that world are constituted by men), and after spending an unreasonable amount of time on it, I had to conclude that the text was objectively bad. I did not delete it, but I didn’t publish it either. I’m sure you understand the sense of frustration which comes with time wasted on hitting a wall.
I am, obviously, able to produce words if I must (and sometimes I do), but it feels like I’m birthing each sentence with a disproportionate sense of suffering. Something that should be done with lightness and, I believe, should be fun to do, turns into a chore that I keep putting off till the last minute, and when the last minute arrives, my brain melts, my fingers become heavy, and I collapse into minimalist sentences and words that kill ideas rather than feed them and make them stronger.
On self-reflection, I realised that there may be three parts of the problem. One is the lack of inspiration that is not just about not having ideas, but about not seeing how a simple idea could be developed further. The other refers to the craft of writing. As with any craft, when you take a break and come back to it, you are rusty. Everything takes longer, you feel insecure about the smallest things, and you simply lose the perspective that can accommodate the surplus without drowning in it. The third issue is the audience. Knowing that I lack inspiration and my craft is rusty, and someone is going to read it, is the best recipe for paralysis. Once I got over the pain of frustration and identified these three areas of potential problems, I decided to attack them all at once and see what (if anything) comes out of it. Hence, I set up a challenge to write badly and publicly to practice the craft, explore what on earth is happening in the space of inspiration and do it openly. The reason I decided to share this experiment is quite simple. We are our worst critics and if I let everything I wrote sit in an enclosed area in a notebook or a Word document, I would find it more difficult to ever let it go, which would spiral just deeper and reinforce the block.
Whether I will stick with it for 30 days is an open question, and I’m not by any means committed to it (a great way to start a challenge, hey?), I simply liked how it sounded. My hope is to write as much and as often to become comfortable in that space again.
Consider yourselves warned. There is no need to read from the place of solidarity, but if you do, I’m forever grateful for the support. Let’s see if a creativity coach can help herself.