A Writer's Notebook, Day Two-Hundred-And-Seventy-Eight

Another day where I did a lot of writing, but only a little of it feels like more than an exercise.  This happens, and I want to be okay saying that it is fine, as I know that is true.  I mean, I know that having a few days where I am not entirely enthused by the work is not a big deal so long as I am still writing daily.  That is the key thing, as I know that inspiration is fickle, but that it also is responsive to commitment.  Days like this, I want to remember, are a test of sorts, and keeping at the work, even, as has lately been the case, attempting to get more written in response, is the sign that I am still on target, even when I am not producing material that I am particularly enamored of.  Their are some aspects of the creative process I cannot control, and one of them is the actual inspiration.  All I can do is keep at the work in hopes that something will strike, and with a certain knowledge that it will, even if not just now. 

While all that is true, it does not, of course, change the negative thoughts and feelings that can emerge at times like this.  It is only natural to feel a certain sense of having failed, I suppose, at not having created work that I feel proud of, even knowing that I did the work with full commitment.  Indeed, it is harder to write a poem when I am not inspired, as I don't know what to write about and have to sit and stare at the screen, often for several minutes.  It is nerve racking, and far more challenging than sitting down to write when I already have an idea in mind, so it actually takes a greater degree of will to write than on days when I feel inspired.  Still, I am doing the work, and I should feel a sense of accomplishment over that.  I kept going when it was toughest, and that is something that is worth realizing, but, though I can recognize all of that as true, it doesn't change the natural response.

Largely, that is why I am writing about it so much of late.  In writing about this from a positive perspective, where I focus on meeting the challenge and recognize the validity of even the least poem I might compose, if only in terms of what it represents about my willingness to keep going through rough patches.  I'm certain that my current stress is a major factor in my difficulties, and, though today was not a busy day, issues were in my head.  Some of them did come through in the work, as often is the case, and I feel, actually, that one of the more successful pieces I wrote today connected to some of that, actually.  However, I still feel that I have ideas percolating in the back of my mind that didn't want to come out today.  I am sure that is because of my mental state, and a preoccupation with other issues.  It is only natural, of course, for inspiration to come and go, to an extent, but it still sucks when I spend hours writing and feel like I mostly didn't get anywhere.  Which is why it is so important to make the conscious effort to remember just what it means that I did anything at all at such a time.

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