A Whole Lotta Nothing
an ode for days you don't wanna...
It’s 4:30 am on Tuesday morning and I’ve got nothing.
I thought about leaving my post there for this week… you know, save both of us a lot of time.
To quote Hemingway’s now famous line which he penned while reflecting on his own struggle to write:
“I would stand and look out over the roofs of Paris and think, ‘Do not worry. You have always written before, and you will write now. All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.’”
So, there it is. My truest sentence this morning is that I’ve got nothing.
Of course, when you’re Hemingway and you’ve written a whole lot of something and you’re hanging out in Paris even having nothing seems romantic and poignant. My nothing seems just a little bit lame.
It’s not entirely true my having nothing. I actually have a notebook full of thoughts and things I want to write about here but none of them seem particularly relevant.
They would seem forced showing up here right now. Some of my best writing comes when I can express what is deeply touching me in the moment. The problem, of course, is when you set that as the standard for your creativity everything else seems a little meh to be honest.
Yet waiting for inspiration isn’t an option. Afterall, only spoiled children believe they only have to do something when they feel like it. Grownups? We soldier on, right? We suit up and show up even when our inner child has her arms crossed and thinks "I don’t wanna.”
Previously, I wrote about the inner fight between my present and future selves. Perhaps this week it’s my child self and my adult self that are having a spat. It definitely keeps me from being lonely having this plethora of personalities on hand.
Here is the irony: I have always wanted to write and have an audience but now that very thing has become a pressure, a burden an obligation. You, my dear reader, have expectations, right? You didn’t click subscribe for meh navel gazing. You expect, dare I say long, for a weekly meaningful perspective on life and living with a dash of humor thrown in for good measure. No pressure, right?
The Greeks call this phenomenon of inversion (i.e. the thing we always wanted now becomes a prison of sorts) Enantiodromia. Greek doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue, does it? This literally translates into “opposite running”.
It’s weird isn’t it how often we strive and work and believe we want something only to discover once we have it that perhaps it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. We work so hard for the corner office, train to compete as an athlete, cultivate a loyal following only to find that now we are trapped by what we were once trying so hard to capture! Ah, the irony that is life.
Maybe it’s the romantic in me but I don’t think this has to do with disillusion or disappointment. Instead, I think we humans love having a goal. Something to strive towards. Inside of us lives the hero/ine that desperately wants a life of meaning and purpose. That was easier in the days of slaying dragons so in our modern word we need to manufacture our epic quests. Driving to the supermarket for our daily bread doesn’t quite cut it.
Getting the job; writing the book; finding our true love; starting our own company - we think we want the goal, but I’d venture it’s the striving that really gets us out of bed in the morning. What then happens when we reach the mountain top?
We think we want the goal, but I’d venture it’s the striving that really gets us out of bed in the morning.
This is a tale as old as time I’m afraid. Even Odysseus, the quintessential hero, who spent twenty years lamenting for and struggling to get home to his beloved Ithaca, when he finally arrived only spent one night before he set off again. One night? Really?
As crazy as that sounds I believe it touches on something deeply human.
It’s hard to stay.
Commitment is hard.
After all no one wrote about Penelope waiting at home for twenty years - boring.
It takes a special type of courage - one that isn’t glamorous or enshrined in epic poems, to not chase the next, bright, shiny new thing: To stay in the marriage; To take care of children or the ailing parent day after day after mind numbing day; To show up in a job or a friendship or a life that might not have the lure and pizzazz of newness anymore;
… to put your butt on a chair in the early hours before dawn and begin to write even when you’re desperately afraid you have nothing relevant to say…
because somedays just showing up is what matters…
and it shows people that you care.
Hi Maureen, I totally relate to this post, which is really not about nothing; it's about something big. As a writer too, I have a pressure to show up for my readers, and let's face it, writing can be quite unromantic and unglamorous. Like Michele, I love that quote about the daily grind of taking care of oneself and one's loved ones. Nicely done!
"What then happens when we reach the mountain top?"
Life is often like the hike to a mountain top, where you are faced with a number of false summits. You think you're approaching the top, online to realize you're simply cresting a ridge line, and the true summit is still further way, higher up, further down the trail. And so we press on.
And you get a reprieve this week with all that is going on.
Cheers