As with most of my peers (I assume?), writing is my biggest insecurity, writing and all things related to a career in that field. Sending out my MS out for beta read to five of my closest writing accomplices gave me heartburn for a week. Submitting a tweet that may or may not be viewed by anybody involves twenty minutes of proof-reading.
My writing is the most important thing that I have control over and so of course I am highly sensitive to all things related to it.
Recently, on a dark day that accompanies most writers as far as I know, as regular as low and high tide, I mumbled under my breath about being a shitty writer.
My husband, having heard me adorned his best, albeit unconvincing, angry face and said, “do we need to talk?” He had been woking at his desk along side me, but turned in his chair to face me full on. “Do you know what you just said? You just told your dream that you have no faith in it. This is what it looked like when your dream heard you.” His face contorted in to the most pitiful sad face I had ever seen. A few minutes later he sent me a picture of the sloth to the right. “Every time you don’t have your dream’s back*, this is how it feels.”
And that was it. As a highly empathetic person it struck me as silly not to think of my dream as its own separate entity, a creature with its own thoughts and feelings. So now every time the familiar ache in my chest begins to creep up and my thoughts drift to the dark place, I will pull up pictures of sloths (which already happens to be a pleasant past time activity of mine) and imagine telling my dream, to its face that I don’t have faith it.
No, I could never emotionally crush that adorable hairy creature of sin. So I must endure, must speak in terms of positivity. I must tell that sloth that I have faith in it.
Unless you have no soul, I highly recommend this activity. Just as you wouldn’t kick a puppy or tell your best friend to give up on their own dreams, nor should you be so damn hard on yourself. After all, with all the streams you are going to have to swim up, it would be nice if you had a little faith in yourself?
Of course, because it is my biggest weakness, it is also the greatest source of happiness. As with anything that is meaningful, like my running, it feels the best when you bust your ass at it.
Current song: “Hero” by Family of the Year
* This phrase was taken from a blog post by Jim Butcher that I found especially awesome.