I now have five books I have begun reading. I have owned Natalie Goldberg’s Thunder and Lightning since it first came out, but I never read it until now. Natalie’s other books on writing helped fuel a lot of work I have done in the past, so today I decided to pull this book out and read it. It is superb.
I think my creative block has a lot to do with not being brave enough to expose myself on the page. I am not as comfortable with myself as I should be. I tend to denigrate my work. I hoped that writing here on my blog would ease me into creative work, maybe it still will. I don’t know.
What seems most true for me is that writing helps me stay grounded. I can look at what I have written and understand myself more intimately. Yet sometimes when I write creatively and come back in a while I do not recognize my work as my own. It seems like something written by someone else. This disjointedness is disconcerting. I have even had some friends read some of my poems to me years after they were written and not realized they were mine. Sometimes things just come and I am the vessel pouring creation out. I am grasped by inspiration then left alone to my own devices. It is a mystery to me.
I am going to free write and explore a prompt from Just Journal For Fun:
You have a purpose… what is it?
That is a huge question, and I do not have a definitive answer.
I am a mother, so I have the responsibility to raise my son, but that is almost done now. I do not know how to measure the accomplishment. He seems to be a wonderful human being, but I do not think I can take credit for that.
I am a daughter, so I have a responsibility to help care for my mother as she ages and becomes less able to care for herself. I try my best to accomplish this.
Back to the question of my purpose.
I am a creative person so I must create, but sometimes I do not produce anything of merit for long periods of time. What good are the meanderings of my mind anyway? I do not think my writing or art could be considered a real purpose. A purpose denotes importance, and I really do not see where my creative work has any validity beyond myself.
Purpose?
I know I must have one, because otherwise I would not be here, but a definition alludes me. I know I try to be a kind, loving person who does at least some good in the world, but I make many mistakes. Sometimes despite my good intentions I am misunderstood and my plans do not work. I strive to learn and grow, but that is just life. You keep developing or you die.
I guess I just have to accept that I do have a purpose and hope that I accomplish something of worth in life, because right now I can not come up with a definition.
Well, I guess that is all I have to say just now.
TTYL,
Jo Ann
Chronicles 