Ever write with a surge of energy like a torrential downpour bringing sustenance to a dry desert? Tip tap tip tap. A never-ending stream of consciousness. It’s flow at its best.
Have you ever experienced the opposite?
You write so tentatively so self-consciously almost like a new nurse with a needle afraid of the potential pain you might cause.
When it comes to writing how do you make the letter P stand for more productive work and less paralyzing ones?
It all comes down to another P word – perception (not perfection folks!).
I’ve found that in an effort to be perfect we can easily lose our footing. Perfection = writer paralysis. It is a creative suicide.
When we focus on creating purely for the purpose of pleasing others or to avoid criticism and judgment, we lose sight of the spirit of what we’re doing.
In an OWN network interview, The Office actor and Soul Pancake founder Rainn Wilson said that “the making of art is no different than prayer.” Yes there is a side of creativity and writing that also involves spirituality. It’s the surge of inspiration that fuels your writing-the unknown that comes through sparks of creativity. When we attach perfection to this process, we’re also saying we’ve lost faith in the process-that we cannot rely on anyone else, but ourselves. And to be good, we must be perfect.
This type of writing often causes perfect error-proof prose. You’ve probably read this type of text before. It’s admirable for its technical jargon and clarity. But where it excels at flawlessness, it fails miserably at its passion.
The key to finding a balance.
Perception = productivity
If we can shift our perception of the writing process, we can minimize paralysis and gain productivity. The way to do this is through writing consciously. Part of this is being aware of the thoughts we tell ourselves before, during and after we write. No more writing put-downs please! And to remember that part of the creative process involves messes and mistakes. And that is okay.
In fact, if you get anything out of reading this, take that one nugget of truth with you. You have my permission to be imperfect, to fail successfully and to be as weird as you want to be.
I got pretty tired of trying to be like everyone else. So now I wear my flaws on my sleeve and show them off with pride. Every once in awhile I’ll get a wise guy who likes to laugh and point it out. But this time I laugh with them. “Yes,” I say. “I’m just as imperfect as you. And that’s okay. I love me anyway.”
