Mama Said There'd Be Days Like This
After a week or so of quarantine, I spent entire days writing like a madwoman. I can’t figure out if that was my mental illness, or if being a writer is a mental illness. Inspiration is sometimes very similar to mania for me. People make a lot of connections between creativity and insanity, I never really understood them, but I’m starting to.
The thrill is finally over. The manic writing inspiration is gone. “Oh yeah, life goes on, long after the thrill of livin’ is gone”--John Mellencamp, Jack & Diane.
And the writing must go on even when the high is over. I still have many moments of inspiration. I still feel much happier when I write than when I don’t write, but some of the ‘magic’ is gone for the time being. And that is as it should be. You can’t actually sustain or exist in the state that I was in for like two weeks or so without burning out.
I’m tired now, I’m actually exhausted. But I have to continue the practice of writing, and sometimes my writing is better when I’m not in the super inspired state that makes me a crazy person.
The muse is moody. But she doesn’t come to your door unless you knock. And just like when you knock on Heaven’s door, you often get an answer. Practice is the only way to get the muse to open up to you. She sits and waits for you to try. Open yourself to her.
I met Michael Cunningham who wrote The Hours and won the Pulitzer Prize at a reading once and he said, “Genius is not something that someone has, it’s something in the air that we can all access.” Our collective genius, our collective creativity is sitting there in front of us, we simply have to invite it in. It’s like our little soul accessing the bigger collective soul.
I am of the belief that we are all creative geniuses, each in our own way. How each one of us expresses that is unique. Sometimes it is in making a cake or in teaching a five-year-old how to tie her shoes. Sometimes it is simply expressed by sitting quietly in contemplation and being. Creating peace. We are constantly creating something, we are creating our reality in every moment. We are creating who we are in every moment.
Creativity is not just reserved for artists. You are expressing you and what you are in everything that you do.
Writing, like almost every other art, is a practice. You can only do well by practicing. I’ve written a lot of crap in my life. Some of it on this very blog. I’m OK with that. I’m even OK with making my mistakes public. I’m simply showing the world that I’m human.
I can write this blog in an hour some days, but I’ve been working on the same novel for twenty years. Yes, that’s right, twenty. I can’t believe that myself. It better be a work of art by now. In my defense, I only occasionally actually work on it. But still, it’s crazy, right?
But today is one of those days where I feel even. I don’t feel up or down. I am aware that my worth is not based on my creative skills. I’m finally ready to realize I’m not defined by my success at creativity. I’m defined by my heart. And I have a good heart. Don’t get me wrong, I can be a cold bitch, but generally, I’m a nice person.
In fact, someone called me wonderful the other day. Wonderful. What a nice thing to say. In fact, I got this message from a stranger on my Author Nina Kaur Facebook page: "Nina you are cute elegant charming handsome fabulous beautiful shining dashing attractive nice super beauty queen princess without crown awesome fantastic sane voice peerless personality bold courageous energetic cool sharp and what not stay blessed and happy."
I have to say I love the description, all the superlatives and everything.
I am aware at this moment that these pages are just an expression of who I am, they are not actually who I am. They are not the thing itself. I am the me. I am not just my writing. I only bring this up because it is easy to get confused. It’s easy to think you are the expression instead of the one who is expressing something. I am not the product, I am the producer of my writing.
I am expressing me. And that self is back to normal now. What is normal? For me, it is not feeling extreme emotion or no emotion at all. For you, it might be something entirely different. Not everybody struggles with their emotions, but more people than you might think, actually do.
All I want is to make this moment meaningful.
So this is what I’m like on an ordinary day when writing is not the only thing to do besides breathing. And that’s OK.
I was obsessed, and I’m an obsessive person. But I don’t want to move on to the next addiction. I need to continue writing, even when it doesn’t make me high. Everything in moderation. I’m finally able to edit my books and send out letters to agents. I’m finally ready to do the boring work it takes to get published.
I don’t want to sit here and tell you that I’m doing better than you. If you are paralyzed and unable to do creative work during this perilous time, that is completely natural, acceptable and normal. This is not a game of comparisons, we are all struggling. We are all doing the best that we can. And it’s hard.
Life is hard enough without a worldwide pandemic. But the reason I’m forcing myself to write this right now is that I know that my mental health is tied to me being able to vent my emotions. So here I am, venting. And I like the idea of creating a record of these emotions in a historically significant period of time.
I feel I must write about what is happening right now because I need to understand this. I need to remember this. I need to tell you this.
nina