On creative trust

write as though you can burn it all

What have you done that you previously thought was impossible?

I recall thinking I’d never be able to write coherent sentences, let alone write a book.

I was once sure that I would never get a college degree. I got two.

At one time I was afraid of drowning, so I avoided the pool; some years later, I soared off the high dive. (Okay, maybe soared is an exaggeration, but I dove in my own special way.)

There were times when I thought I’d never forgive another person. Or myself. But I did. I moved on.

All of this took a certain amount of trust that what I saw in front of me was not all there was. An ability to trust, in my experience, is an attribute that fluctuates. But it is especially valuable to creative people, especially writers. After all, as Alan Watts said in so many words, the writer’s job is to describe the indescribable. In other words, to do the impossible.

We have to trust that one word will lead to the next and that the words will provide us with shapes and symbols that allow others to imagine. This is nothing short of magic, and it’s impossible without a little trust.

But let’s talk about the fluctuations.

There were plenty of times that I found myself hiding or taking the familiar route due to a lack of trust, in myself or others. And wow were there a lot of times that I’ve remained quiet as opposed to speaking.

So what is the difference between the days we *soar* from the high dive and the days we run from the water?

Sure, it’s possible that the position of Jupiter and Saturn or the retrogrades of Venus had an impact, but I think other factors were in place. One of which is Necessity. When you are hungry, you find a way to eat. You don’t have time for doubt.

I often showed up when I felt I had no other choice. When I was too broke to indulge my anxiety, I realized the value of pursuing a degree. When I was committed to an event, I showed up. When I told people I was going to study writing and signed up for classes and saw them through. There was always still an opportunity not to show up, but for the most part, the added pressure (positive and not so much) kept me moving forward.

Amy L. Eva at Berkely’s Greater Good Science Center cites perseverance and clarifying values as two of the key differentiators between the days we muster the courage to get out of bed and the days we pull up the covers. I wonder if trust is similar. And I also wonder what role safety plays in complacency.

If we’re comfortable, are we more inclined to play it safe?

Most artists I know want visibility in some ways, but there are often blocks around what comes with it. Exposure brings attention, both wanted and unwanted.

I think it’s important to address this candidly because while it’s tempting and popular to offer advice such as “Speak your truth!” or “Write from the heart,” this isn’t necessarily what is best for us on all days. We have to be ready. We have to practice climbing the ladder and looking down at the water before we make the dive.

As writers, it’s easy to play to the market or society’s mood instead of trusting the true story that wants to come out. Ask the bots what is safe and marketable before making a comment or posting your opinion.

In our day-to-day life, it’s easy to let extremists or famous people, or algorithms run the discourse. It’s easy to placate and avoid others’ emotional triggers. However, to censor ourselves or play to a market pulse is to sacrifice integrity (artistic and personal). And it’s to compromise our creative trust.

We all [okay, most of us] want to do what’s right and cultivate empathy and search for the beauty and nuance that lives in the human condition, but to have a genuine, honest view is to be vulnerable enough to take the dive.

Your artistry is directly connected to your vulnerability. —David Whyte

As we hone our creative, authentic voices, we need to check in with ourselves honestly regularly to ensure we’re not speeding ahead recklessly or playing it safe at our work’s peril.

But fluctuations are real. So how about checking in today … Where are you on the creative trust scale? How much trust do you have in the next sentence and your voice? How much are you holding back?

While I’d like to aim for the conscientious risk-taker each day, I’m not always there. But perhaps the breakthroughs will continue. The trust increases with practice. It increases with need. It increases with genuine inquiry. But it’s never fully guaranteed.

And perhaps the variability is what makes writing, and us, human.

Prompt

Write about something that shakes your comfort level a little. TRUST. Get bold. You don’t have to share it. Just see what happens. Give yourself 10 minutes to write with no other aim than to take risks. If you’d like, ceremoniously (but responsibly) burn it all later.

Let me know how it goes.