SHAKING OFF. CHANGING GEARS. FEARING.
I find now, a few months and a couple holidays after my second writing conference, I'm still a bit muddled. (See preceding post.) I think a lot of it's because of fear. Fear because I've felt drawn (beckoned, compelled) to write differently than I've dared to before. More openly. More honestly. Broader and wider.
I'm also muddled about how to write. When I started this blog about fear, even though my sidebar states, "Hey, I'm no authority," I think deep down I felt I had to speak authoritatively. It only stifled me, this subtle, unwelcome notion that if I'm to speak to the matter of fear and be of any help to others I must take on some bolstered voice of wisdom. And it probably produced some awkward words. Maybe none of what I've felt has shown up between the lines. Maybe it's only obvious to me. Maybe it's been glaringly clear.
I still feel the weight of the "thing" hanging around trying to misshape my writing. I think the trouble lies in the mantle "be of some help". It's made me feel I have to rise up high in my chair and have something to teach. But what I learn most from is a bared heart. What God uses most in my life is someone else's story, lived out before me in written words. Live and up close. I want to learn to write that way. Live and up close. Not just past tense with a safe distance between my words and my heart.
I've felt the voice of vulnerability beckoning me into new territory for this blog. I want to dare to bare more of my real journey. I think I want to. (She says, afraid of her own words, snatching them away immediately after they've left her fingers.) I want to, but I'm afraid to. I'm not sure how to do this thing I see out there motioning me to come. I'm not sure what it will look like. But I think it includes a broader spectrum of experiences, lessons, and revelations from my own time with God. More present tense, so to speak. Broader than merely dealing with fear directly, though fear is still at the root of most things for me.
So, I'm changing gears here on this blog. Soon it will have a new name. Because I want to write more broadly, I'll change the name from "From Fear to Eternity" to a name that has been a prayer of mine for several years. I'll attempt to freshen up the sidebar here on the blog, include a broader scope of life with God, and a broader picture of my journey with Him. Journeys from fear to trust are many faceted. Perhaps you'll even see some of my raw journal entries, full of their questions, ponderings, evolutions of thought, discoveries. Sometimes there may just be the questions, unanswered and reverberating.
We'll just have to wait and see what comes.
Friday, February 10, 2012
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Changing Gears Here, 1
MUDDLED, CONFUSED, AND SILENCED
As a newcomer to writing with a purpose, I've struggled to find my "voice". Over the last 18 months or so since I began this blog I've learned much and also been much confused. About matters of voice, message, purpose. About writing in general.
Wanting to "get serious" about writing and being of use with my writing, I attended my first writers' conference in the fall of 2010. It was a wonderful experience but 10 months later, approaching the 2011 conference, I finally began analyzing the confusion that had settled in upon me after the first one. It was a confusion that froze and silenced me.
Before, I just wrote. Afterwards, I felt a pressure to write "rightly" and pursue publication. One of the great things about writers' conferences is the opportunity to meet with editors and publishers in person, speeding past the regular slow process of submitting ideas, articles, and proposals. It's a real advantage. I knew I wasn't ready for it, but still, I fell under it's sneaky influence. I grew muddled and uncertain: of my voice, my content, direction and purpose. When I tried to write there was this outside "thing" hanging over me, pushing and prodding me, trying to shape my writing into something submittable. I stopped writing.
I'd won a scholarship to the 2011 conference, which greatly encouraged me. However, with nothing to show for the year --no articles or book proposals to present-- I wondered why I should even go. A desire to learn more and reunite with friends made last year were my only reasons. Those and a rather disheartened concept of perseverance.
As I reflected over my quiet, 10-month freak-out, I determined to relax about the next conference. I decided to expect nothing, bravely admit my wasted year, and see what God had for me. I'd felt Him whispering to me to forget all about the "world" and "business" of writing, and just write. I tried to shake off the pressures I'd adopted but I still felt them close by. I committed to attending the conference with open hands and one agenda: listening to God. I didn't know what workshops I'd attend, what continuing class I'd choose, or what awaited me. I would go a day early and spend the day alone with God and take the rest as it came.
I had a wonderful retreat day. It was cold but with a gorgeous blue sky and sunshine. I took photos, went to the prayer cabin, and spent the afternoon alone in my shared room. I listened, prayed, read, and jouralled, along with writing for the conference compilation book. I reviewed the workshop offerings and released all the "how-to" classes about writing instruction and publication. They are what created the pressure that snuck up on me last year and stole away my words. Though I love the details of improving the craft of writing, there's time for that later. I needed to gain my equilibrium and let God speak to my heart. I largely chose workshops with spiritual content addressing the life behind the writing, the reasons, the source. I was blessed. Hugely blessed.
Still....
As a newcomer to writing with a purpose, I've struggled to find my "voice". Over the last 18 months or so since I began this blog I've learned much and also been much confused. About matters of voice, message, purpose. About writing in general.
Wanting to "get serious" about writing and being of use with my writing, I attended my first writers' conference in the fall of 2010. It was a wonderful experience but 10 months later, approaching the 2011 conference, I finally began analyzing the confusion that had settled in upon me after the first one. It was a confusion that froze and silenced me.
Before, I just wrote. Afterwards, I felt a pressure to write "rightly" and pursue publication. One of the great things about writers' conferences is the opportunity to meet with editors and publishers in person, speeding past the regular slow process of submitting ideas, articles, and proposals. It's a real advantage. I knew I wasn't ready for it, but still, I fell under it's sneaky influence. I grew muddled and uncertain: of my voice, my content, direction and purpose. When I tried to write there was this outside "thing" hanging over me, pushing and prodding me, trying to shape my writing into something submittable. I stopped writing.
I'd won a scholarship to the 2011 conference, which greatly encouraged me. However, with nothing to show for the year --no articles or book proposals to present-- I wondered why I should even go. A desire to learn more and reunite with friends made last year were my only reasons. Those and a rather disheartened concept of perseverance.
As I reflected over my quiet, 10-month freak-out, I determined to relax about the next conference. I decided to expect nothing, bravely admit my wasted year, and see what God had for me. I'd felt Him whispering to me to forget all about the "world" and "business" of writing, and just write. I tried to shake off the pressures I'd adopted but I still felt them close by. I committed to attending the conference with open hands and one agenda: listening to God. I didn't know what workshops I'd attend, what continuing class I'd choose, or what awaited me. I would go a day early and spend the day alone with God and take the rest as it came.
I had a wonderful retreat day. It was cold but with a gorgeous blue sky and sunshine. I took photos, went to the prayer cabin, and spent the afternoon alone in my shared room. I listened, prayed, read, and jouralled, along with writing for the conference compilation book. I reviewed the workshop offerings and released all the "how-to" classes about writing instruction and publication. They are what created the pressure that snuck up on me last year and stole away my words. Though I love the details of improving the craft of writing, there's time for that later. I needed to gain my equilibrium and let God speak to my heart. I largely chose workshops with spiritual content addressing the life behind the writing, the reasons, the source. I was blessed. Hugely blessed.
Still....
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