what's around

There's nothing scarier than a blank page. Have you heard this line? Excuse me, that was a typo, it's actually a 'lie.' Have you ever seen the music video for Crossroads by Bone Thugs 'n' Harmony? The Angel of Death, a tall, stoic, dark man with dark glasses approaches and touches the forehead of an older gentleman on his porch playing cards. Upon his fingertips his eyes turn black and he falls backward to the horror of Wish Bone, his card-game compadre. It's terrifying. I loved the song--always will, but that image used to give me nightmares as a kid.

Blank, black eyes. That's scarier than a blank white screen.

"But what do I write about?" You whine. You write what's around. What's taking up space in your head. What happens in your body when the rain flings itself against your window pane in torrents. Write about what's hanging up in front of your face as you face your blinking cursor. And you better have something up there. If you don't, I'll send you something. Just e-mail me your address and I'll drop something in the post that you can post in front of your face to remind you everyday of why you wanted to make in the first place. And when you're sick of writing where you are, move. Go to the movies, the museum, go to a spot that's beautiful outside that no one else has noticed yet.

You could also pay attention to how you present yourself to the world and find the themes that scream out to you. Have you ever done a word cloud on yourself? It's super-fun. Go to Wordle.net (word of warning, you may have to install Java first), Copy and paste all the words from all of your online profiles--social, dating, job sites--throw your bio in there too. And see what concepts balloon. Then write them on sticky notes and put them on the wall and everyday start with that so you will never be scrounging for inspiration or a title again. Talk about getting unstuck. I have done this with the answers that I've gathered from speaking with people who have deemed themselves to be multi-passionates like me, and that is how I start formulating the morning's post each day. It just takes a little looking in and looking out if you want to be creating consistently.

Once you say "YES" to noticing, the world is an enticing place.

you are not the work you make

You are not the work you make.

You are not the words you write and say; the lines you draw. You are not the connections you make.

The sculptor knows the hand she shapes wet is not hers. She makes nail beds; carving the winks and kinks of the knuckle, She knows once it is formed that she must let it go.

We make things, we say a thing, we build a thing we throw some symbols together in an open space and justlikethat it works.

You heave and sweat and make love all night and feel sick mornings later and stop bleeding and nearly a year later you heave again and you birth a child. He’s beautiful even if he’s not. He looks like you in the slightest nuance even when he doesn’t yet, and you celebrate and you pop champagne and although he was made from you in heat and love in strings of stories told in chromosomes, he is no longer yours. And he will break your heart a million times before you realize it.

We are not what we bear. We are not what we give or receive.

We are the thought that counts. We are the decisions and the motivation behind it. We are the people we sit with and share with. We are behind the smile, we are the kindness. We are what we walk away from, what we fear.We are what we do every single day, but after we do it, it is not ours. We can’t own it. We can be grateful for the effect that what we made has had on others. We can thank our God for allowing us to be the portal for which something we are proud of has entered this world.

And although we love it, we must let it go. We must know that even if it never brings us a cent, or loves us back, to love it anyway. Make it anyway, give it all away. Enjoy it for the journey. We are better for it.

Originally published on 1/14/17 by Thrive Global.