I have no peace of mind right now.
Something is wrong.
Actually, there is a lot wrong.
We don’t own a car that’s running.
One died- we saw the tail lights ofhte tow truck about three weeks ago- and sure, it was a car, but it’s still haunting me. We were okay- the car worked. Money was tight, so it was a cruddy-looking car. But it died.
One died and it took $200 to get it evaluated- only to be wrong- and another $900 to get it towed and fixed.
How can I write?
The panic sets in- maybe I should get a part-time job. What if I get a part-time job? I won’t have time to write.
But I don’t have the right frame of mind to write.
The lie that we can only be creative when we’ve had 3 hours of yoga, tea, a perfectly peaceful house.
Sure- there are habits that make your ideas and characters more easily flow in your mind. I’m not arguing that it’s even importatnt to establish routines.
But you don’t need security or even peace of mind to write.
In the intropection of your feelings, you may establish a new character or scene you never would have- especially if you are anxious about money. Take advantage of the instability of your situation and write how you feel, shoudl you ever need a character to convey that.
Because a character is never going to say, “I’m stressed.”
The character is going to say, “It’s like my lungs don’t hold as much oxygen as they did five minutes ago. My eyes are open, but all I can see is what’s to the left of me. I stare at the cold, dark metal, willing it to move, to drive, like it did. My head can be calmed by truth but my feet feel the weight of the fact that my family needs a car and we don’t have one. The desperation to do something makes me almost want to run away from things that I claim were most important to me. I feel more alone than ever except I’m surrounded by guilt- because all the people around me want me to succeed (which makes me feel guilty for letting them down) or are busy succeeded (which makes me feel guilty for not getting right whatever lessons they got right).
I’m scared for the truth of the fact that the workings of an engine determine my ability to breathe and write.
It sounds riduclous, but it also sounds true. So I have to write it a lie.
“I don’t need to feel secure to write words on paper. It doesn’t need to be perfect. I can have a car not running or a furnace not full of oil or coldbrew not brewing.”
the most beautiful words I can write should not fall victim to my own accusations or insecurities
When the engine doesn’t start.
When you have to spend hours reworking the budget
When the child fails a test or class
When you didn’t have time for yoga because you had to work the part time job for a season.
Let the engines fail, but not words.