Blocks
What usually comes to mind when youย think of “writer’s block”? Is it the blank page or flashing cursor on the screen? The stories and words that won’t be fully formed in yourย mind? Or is it that elusive idea that seemed clear, yet now seems far away? It’s commonsense thatย writer’s block is aย fearย of writing itself. A blockedย writer freezes up like a reluctant diver stuck at the top of the 30 meterย platformย orย a spelunkerย unable to enter the cave. Allย wish to dive in,ย but they are paralyzed by fear. Blocked.
Recently I saw writer’s blockย in a wholeย new way. Neither writingย nor the fear ofย writing areย the true sourceย ofย the blockade. Ratherย writing acts asย a big overwhelming distraction. It stands in the way and keeps you from noticing something else. You’re not blocked from writing. But rather the writing blocks you from something elseย by distracting you!
What exactly mightย a big ole giant writing projectย distract you from? Itย distracts you and overwhelms you and prevents you from feeling whatever it is that your unconscious doesn’t wantย you to feel. In fact the unconscious is filled with everyday tensions, chronic anxieties, and ancient unresolved feelings of anger, rage, disappointment, sadness, disgust, as well asย other socially questionableย thoughts and feelings. The unconsciousย is like a prison guard determined not to let those reprobate feelings and beliefs out!
The writing itself โ yourย book, poem, essay,ย orย devotional —ย in sneaking fashion becomes part of the prison system, one of the jailers, that keeps your dangerous feelings hidden from you. “Hey look at me! I’m an impossible and daunting task!” says the writing. “Focus on me! See how I’m going to exhaust you and ruin your life, and you’ll forget all about those wayward feelings from your past.”
Many who read this won’t believe, but the ones who are willing to suspend their disbelief canย try the following exercise. Julia Cameron, Naomi Goldberg, Robert Boice are wise writers about the writing process, and they each support thisย plan: try a brief, timed session of free-writing. Fifteen minutes will do. Don’t exceed 25. Don’t lift your pen from paper or fingers from keys. Go until your timer says stop.
Free writing with no restraints is like a secret underground tunnel that lets the blocked feelings and other bunkย find their way out firstโฆ There will be shame and rage and sadness and longing. You’ll seeย old stories of your deep down blueprint about what you believe about yourself come pouring out. Eventually. These feelings and beliefs are the safety strategies from your infancy and childhood that keep masquerading as “helpful” even though you’re an adult now. And the threats perceived in your young life are no longer real, present or dangerous.ย These feelings and beliefsย are mirrors of the major traumas and chronic disappointments of your early experience, and if you put your pen on paper and don’t hold back they will come flowing out in a flood of words and images, ideas and beliefs. And when they are all out laying there helpless on the paper they will no longer be as big or overwhelming.
They can’t distract or block you if you simply let them out.
The writing becomesย possible because the writing no longer needs to be the jailer but instead can become a chaplainย for your healing process. Theย writingย becomes not only possible, butย urgent, pulling you forward. It will flow not inย perfection, but in situatedย possibility. And by sitting calmly and patiently for one brief sessionย at a time, and giving the prisoners a way out through the end of your pen orย your fingertips pressed to keys, you will find the liberation you’ve been seeking. And the stories and poemsย and essays and books you know are somewhere in you can be patiently invited into the worldโฆ Bit by bit, word by word orย as Anne Lamottย puts it “bird by bird” instead of block by block.
