August was not my shining month. I forced myself to attend a writer’s workshop. I was captivated by the thought of listening to these brave writers sharing their works. One by one, they stood in front of their peers and spoke their written words.
Envy? Really? Envy.
As the layers slowly peel off, it’s shocking to see what comes to the surface. I was so ashamed of my envious feelings. How could I be envious, I have not put in the hard work, or endured the struggled, to create anything. I can’t remember the last time I sat down and wrote; character development, a short story or even chapters. This was a forgotten dream, one I had shoved aside when I decided on that practical undergraduate degree.
This was my first artist’s date, the second fundamental element in The Artist’s Way. The intention is to have a date with yourself to explore and nourish your creativity. To replenish your mind and soul after the morning page cleanse. A fun and playful date. Of course, I got too ambitious. It was a foggy summer night; I was wearing my favorite scarf, glasses and sipping on a glass of pinot noir. I can do this. It was a dimly lit bookstore/coffee shop. I was channeling Hemingway and La Rotonde, this is where writers gather and share their ideas. Maybe, I have seen Midnight in Paris, one too many times. Everyone seemed laid back and encouraging. It was getting closer to my turn, I was going to share my paragraph. My body started freaking out; I was trembling and clammy with pure, unbridled fear.
That moment I walked to the door to get some air it was over. There was no way I was going back into that room. What was supposed to be a fun first date, was a complete disaster. *Note to self, with the next boy, absolutely no public speaking adventures. It still scares the pants off of you.
Afterwards, I sat with the uneasiness of my envy for a few days. In Nietzsche’s eyes – there is nothing wrong with envy. The philosopher thought of envy as an important signal from our deeper selves about what we really want. Aside from the public sharing, I knew my writing wasn’t up to par, but I am no quitter. The next week I joined a writing group. I could continue to wait for the sparks of creativity or I could do the work everyday.
“Some people feel the rain. Others just get wet.” Bob Marley
~Nerissa
Here we are, now what? 