I am what I am

More from Peter Elbow's Writing Without Teachers:

"The habit of compulsive, premature editing doesn't just make writing hard. It also makes writing dead. Your voice is damped out by all the interruptions, changes and hesitations between the consciousness and the page. In your natural way of producing words there is a sound, a texture, a rhythm -- a voice -- which is the main source of power in your writing. I don't know how it works, but this voice is the force that will make a reader listen to you, the energy that drives the meanings through his thick skull. Maybe you don't like your voice; maybe people have made fun of it. But it's the only voice you've got. It's your only source of power. You better get back into it, no matter what you think of it. If you keep writing in it, it may change into something you like better. But if you abandon it, you'll likely never have a voice and never be heard.

Freewritings are vaccuums. Gradually you will begin to carry over into your regular writing some of the voice, force and connectedness that creep into those vacuums."

For some time God has been dealing with me in regard to issues of self-esteem. We cannot love our neighbor until we love ourselves. But what it means to love self is something that I'm only gradually coming to understand. It is a love that is independent of how others see us or treat us, and also independent of our performance.

One image that I picked up along the way is that of my dog. When he was out in the park, running, sniffing, peeing... just glorying in being alive and wholly unconcerned with what others thought of him. He was jubilantly being himself.

We are too often concerned with how others see us (and others too often make a point of informing us). Instead of just being who we are and doing what we do, we worry that there will be those who will not like it. But God's word says I am what I am by His grace. My voice, my personality, my likes and dislikes, my opinions... they are mine, and they are such by His grace. They are, at core, what He's made me to be.

Yes, sin distorts who we are, but so does the cosmic system. So does the bondage that others force upon us. It's weird how on one hand we all want to be special. But on the other, special means different, and different is often very hard, especially if we're with others who don't like "different." How many people cave with regard to speech, dress, activities, likes and dislikes, hobbies, etc, because they just don't want to be different? Being different often means being alone. Having opinions that are not widely embraced, means having them alone.

I see I'm getting off track from what I originally meant to say. Which was that we must accept ourselves for who we are as God made us to be -- in the way we speak or act or talk, in how we look, in how we dress, in what we like to read or write or do -- regardless of others' opinion of that. To be able to respect others and love them and still hold on to yourself for who you are, still be comfortable in who you are, is part of maturity -- both natural and spiritual. Maybe especially spiritual.

One time my pastor had just given his opinion on some matter I no longer recall, then said, "And please don't come up to me after service and give me your opinion. I value my opinion over yours." It shocked me because I think almost all my life I've lived in bondage to others' opinions. They were regarded practically as sacrosanct. One was not allowed to ignore them! And certainly you couldn't value your own opinion more than that of others! But when he said that, and all those thoughts poured into my head, for the first time I questioned them. Why can't I value mine more than others? In fact, isn't it just logical and even necessary that I do? I'm not going to be held accountable at the judgment seat before my Lord for anyone's opinion but my own...

Grace,
Karen

Why Write Nonstops?

Writing Without Teachers
by Peter Elbow

I love this book. Its writer has related more to my system of writing and creative process than any I've yet encountered. The first time I read the book, I was crying "Yes! That's just how it is!" on almost every page. I had earlier read his Writing with Power and it was there I first encountered the nonstop (he calls it "freewriting") but it was in reading Writing without Teachers that I really began to accept the chaotic nature of my own writing process -- and to see it as something valuable.

Here's a quote I read today about nonstopping (freewriting) that I wanted to share:

(Note: Freewriting is where you set a timer for ten or so minutes and just write -- anything -- until the timer goes off. It is writing that is not intended to be read, evaluated or responded to. The only rule is that you cannot stop writing.)

"Freewriting may seem crazy but actually it makes simple sense. Think of the difference between speaking and writing. Writing has the advantage of permitting more editing. But that's its downfall too. Almost everybody interposes a massive and complicated series of editings between the time words start to be born into consciousness and when they finally come off the end of the pencil or typewriter onto the page. This is partly because schooling makes us obsessed with the "mistakes" we make in writing. Many people are constantly thinking about spelling and grammar as they try to write. I am always thinking about awkwardness, wordiness, and the general mushiness of my natural verbal product as I try to write down words."

[[I am thinking about the clunkiness, as well -- of the words, the dialog and often of the characters' actions and the plot...]]

"But it's not just "mistakes" or "bad writing" we edit as we write. We also edit unacceptable thoughts and feelings, as we do in speaking. In writing there is more time to do it so the editing is heavier: when speaking there's someone right there waiting for a reply and he'll get bored or think we're crazy if we don't come out with something. Most of the time in speaking, we settle for the catch-as-catch-can way in which the words tumble out. In writing, however, there's a chance to try to get them right. But the opportunity to get them right is a terrible burden: you can work for two hours trying to get a paragraph "right" and discover it's not right at all. And then give up.

"Editing, in itself, is not the problem. Editing is usually necessary if we want to end up with something satisfactory. The problem is that editing goes on at the same time as producing. The editor is, as it were, constantly looking over the shoulder of the producer and constantly fiddling with what he's doing while he's in the middle of trying to do it. No wonder the producer gets nervous, jumpy, inhibited, and finally can't be coherent. It's an unnecessary burden to try to think of words and also worry at the same time whether they're the right words."

As I typed the latter paragraph I suddenly saw in it a wonderful metaphor for us with God. He's the producer and we're trying to edit what He's doing (a position we've never been assigned or called to). In this case it's not the producer that gets nervous and jumpy, it's the silly person trying to edit what she has no business editing.

It also works in relationships, where the person waiting for that response provokes your internal editor into overdrive and even in speech you become nervous, jumpy, inhibited and incoherent...

Grace,
Karen