Monday, June 29, 2009
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
an old writing assignment I just found...
Thank the GODS that I found this.. It totally sums up the loop I'm in and kind of shocked me into action..
Here it is:
My endless desire for perfection often leads me to complete paralysis rather than brilliance. Using this writing assignment as an example, here I sit struggling with the exact perfect subject to write about, the exact perfect way to write about it, leading me inevitably to a late assignment about, essentially, nothing. I could have chosen my travels around the world, my amazing soul mate, my obsession with hula hooping, or my extensive lucid dreaming. Instead I find myself so fascinated by my own inertia and extreme dedication to perfection that I am left with nothing else on the forefront of my mind than this. Well, maybe this is square one, the first step and the elephant that needed to be shooed from the room before I can move on to the meat of what I have to say. Or maybe not. Maybe the desperation for perfection has been the central player in my world. In itself acquiring an overblown sense of importance as to eclipse all other passions. Strange isn’t it, the ephemeral and basically useless notion of perfection, superseding all of my other very real and meaningful artistic talents and pursuits? Come to think about it, this is the perfect subject to write about. It is the main thing that blocks me most of the time and my blocks (or more accurately, the attempt to abolish my blocks) are what take up a large majority of my mental time and energy. What if I was to spend more of that time actually DOING some of the things that I am so worried about being blocked in? Would there cease to be a block at all? Amazing how our habitual patterns of mind junk become so a part of the tapestry of ones existence that it seems normal, if not even necessary or unavoidable? Meanwhile it is exactly this that puts the foot in the mouth of our own desired experience of life. Well, no longer, I say! Here I go, writing about nothing just to write about SOMETHING, imperfect as it may be and pointless as it seems, at least it is a few tracks away form the effortless stream of habitual chatter and paralyzing banter between the many different voices vying for supremacy in my head. And yes, it is less than 500 words, but maybe there needs to be some quantifiable evidence of imperfection to cement the new track and one up the little neurotic voice in my head that says, “Not good enough! Wrong and inferior! Don’t show anyone!” So take that, little voice! I just wrote not enough words about NOTHING! And I’m even going to post it for everyone to see, so there.
Here it is:
My endless desire for perfection often leads me to complete paralysis rather than brilliance. Using this writing assignment as an example, here I sit struggling with the exact perfect subject to write about, the exact perfect way to write about it, leading me inevitably to a late assignment about, essentially, nothing. I could have chosen my travels around the world, my amazing soul mate, my obsession with hula hooping, or my extensive lucid dreaming. Instead I find myself so fascinated by my own inertia and extreme dedication to perfection that I am left with nothing else on the forefront of my mind than this. Well, maybe this is square one, the first step and the elephant that needed to be shooed from the room before I can move on to the meat of what I have to say. Or maybe not. Maybe the desperation for perfection has been the central player in my world. In itself acquiring an overblown sense of importance as to eclipse all other passions. Strange isn’t it, the ephemeral and basically useless notion of perfection, superseding all of my other very real and meaningful artistic talents and pursuits? Come to think about it, this is the perfect subject to write about. It is the main thing that blocks me most of the time and my blocks (or more accurately, the attempt to abolish my blocks) are what take up a large majority of my mental time and energy. What if I was to spend more of that time actually DOING some of the things that I am so worried about being blocked in? Would there cease to be a block at all? Amazing how our habitual patterns of mind junk become so a part of the tapestry of ones existence that it seems normal, if not even necessary or unavoidable? Meanwhile it is exactly this that puts the foot in the mouth of our own desired experience of life. Well, no longer, I say! Here I go, writing about nothing just to write about SOMETHING, imperfect as it may be and pointless as it seems, at least it is a few tracks away form the effortless stream of habitual chatter and paralyzing banter between the many different voices vying for supremacy in my head. And yes, it is less than 500 words, but maybe there needs to be some quantifiable evidence of imperfection to cement the new track and one up the little neurotic voice in my head that says, “Not good enough! Wrong and inferior! Don’t show anyone!” So take that, little voice! I just wrote not enough words about NOTHING! And I’m even going to post it for everyone to see, so there.
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