The Voice of the Created
One of my favorite books at the moment is The War of Art: Break Through the Blocks and Win Your Inner Creative Battles. The main premise is that no matter your art, there is a struggle with resistance to create it. I consider myself an artist, certainly. But I’m not sure what I consider my primary artistic medium to be. I went to college to study music. I worked in the music industry producing, recording, and mixing records. I’ve performed on stage in bands. I started a multimedia development company that went from being successful at creating interactive media presentations for large corporations and finally emerged as a (also successful) web development company. I’ve done graphic design. I’ve been a photographer. Those things I’ve been paid to do. I’ve dabbled in painting. I’ve tried my hand at woodworking. Those things I’ve not been able to even turn into a satisfying hobby, though in my quieter moments I still have aspirations to hone those crafts into something impressive. Pressfield makes the argument that what you should be doing is the thing you face the most resistance starting. As of late, I’ve been dabbling with blogging, and I must say that the resistance faced when sitting down to write, for me, is enormous. Allow me to explain.
Whenever I begin there’s always something more pressing for me to do. Or more interesting. Well, maybe not more pressing or more interesting, but at least more distracting. I find myself doing “research” on sites that just happen to feature that new cell phone I want, or that new media development software app. Or maybe there’s a tutorial on the latest development of audio convolution, (something I studied in college, but never use now. I should probably read up on it though, just in case). Or, I can get right down to work and study about blogging techniques, or how to monetize a blog. Or maybe I can get work done by reading up on the latest news stories, again “researching” for topics, all while never having actually written a word. At the end of my scheduled “blogging” time, nothing has been actually written.
Yes, I have a scheduled “blogging time” in my calendar. It says something like, “Tue, 2:00 pm – 4:00 pm – Blog: Write it, even if it’s crap.” Pressfield (and consequently many of the blogs I’ve read on blogging and how to be a better blogger while I should be blogging) says basically that quantity counts. Why? Because you get better at it the more you do it. He also says that a schedule is important, and sticking to it while minimizing distractions is critical. That’s the time to be productive.
But there’s one other big issue of resistance I’ve encountered that Pressfield doesn’t really address – but many of the experts say is necessary – and that’s write what you’re passionate about. That’s fine, but it’s also important to write about what you know as well. I don’t think it’s necessary to be an expert, but knowledge on the topic is important. So there it is. What have I got to say that I’m passionate about, and that I know enough about that would help inform the lives of others? That’s my question. That’s my resistance. It’s something that I certainly have to work out for myself.
But I do know this. I know that everyone has a voice. I also believe that everyone wants to be heard. It’s why kids so desperately want their parents to listen. At an early age, they’re trying to engage in conversation. Well, not really conversation. It’s more monologue than dialogue.
“Daddy, did you know that… (insert any lengthy topic here) ?”
“Yes.”
“Ok.”
“Why do you ask?”
“Umm, I don’t know.”
That’s what kids do with their parents. They want to be listened to. The last few months I’ve had the privilege of coaching my eldest son’s soccer team with my neighbor. During both practices and in the middle of games, at any point, there will be a six year old running up to me to inform me of something completely unrelated to the practice, let alone the game. They want to be heard. My wife. My friends. My peers. My colleagues. It’s not that they want to be heard by me, (I’m not that narcissistic) it’s that we all want a voice at the table of our lives. Sit in an office meeting, and opinions flow. Sit at the dinner table and a whole other world unfolds. I know I want to be heard.
So why is it so difficult to settle on something to say, when there’s so much to be said? I think it’s because more than wanting to be heard, I want to say something of value. Because when I do, it validates my sense of self-worth. And I think that gets down to the real heart of it. It’s not that we want to be heard, that we want a voice. It’s that we want to be valued. Because when someone is listening, they’re experiencing a part of us that we’ve allowed to be made visible. We’ve taken a risk and exposed a little part of who we are. Real, honest communication is an intimate act of exposure. And when we listen to the voices of others, when we allow them a seat at the table of our attention, we validate their significance.
More than anything, that’s what I’m passionate about. The significance of the Created.
