Yesterday I sat with a friend who is a gifted writer, but isn’t writing and has been sharing with me for months and months all his PLANS and IDEAS and THOUGHTS about his writing, other people’s writing, and writing in general. I won’t say all the things–the BIG LIFE things–he has gone through in order to save him from his writing. Finally, after spending another lunch listening to his MACHINE OF THOUGHT, I stopped him and said more or less: BUT WHAT ABOUT SITTING DOWN AND ACTUALLY WRITING?

Her friend sounds just like me. Unfortunately.

The truth was I just needed to sit down and DO. What this required was [being] willing to feel like a complete loser, to be boring, to be really BAD…

Doh. I don’t like being bad at things. (Who does?) But I think maybe she’s right, that I’m petrified of being BAD. Especially after reading the impeccable Unaccustomed Earth by Jhumpa Lahiri. When I finished that book yesterday, I was crying with sadness (and a little bit of anger) at how it had ended, but also, at the fact that it HAD ended. I wanted more of those characters, more of Lahiri’s quiet, masterful writing. I want to be able to create something that GOOD. Was she ever afraid of being bad in the same way that I am?

Ways in which blocks can manifest themselves: I need to do more research, I need more inspiration, a new place to create, more coffee, chocolate, a new place to live, more time, a new job, etc. Well, maybe you do, but when does that end?

Hmm, let me see if I can identify with this one. New job? Check. New chair? Check. New desk? Check. New laptop? Check. Finished novel? Uh…

I believe life is magical, but sometimes the most magical things are the most ordinary and boring like cold, hard, action. I told my friend yesterday that in order to get to the romantic magical part of it again, he needed to be willing to go through the dry, MEANINGLESS parts too. A commitment is not a single moment, it goes on and on and on. It may seem impossible, I know, but this is the toughest kind of love–to show up when it gets hard and say this means enough to me to try and have that be enough.

Alright then. This means enough to me to try. This is the only thing that means enough to me to try, to risk failure, poverty, embarrassment. I am only 23. I have only been at this, really really, for 5 months. I’m at the beginning of a journey, not the end of the line. I will not get discouraged, I will not be afraid, and most importantly, I will NOT be the one to stop myself from succeeding.

A commitment is not a single moment.

The common man worries too much about loving others, or being loved by them. A warrior knows what he wants – that is all in his life and that is where he concentrates all his energy. The common man spends the present acting as winner or loser, and depending on the results he becomes persecutor or victim. The warrior, on the other hand, worries only about his acts, which will lead him to the objective he has traced for himself.

(Hint: read the poster.)

That being said, I definitely appreciate the morals that Coelho presents. Particularly as a young, struggling writer, I found a lot to take away. Basically, Coelho says that following one’s dreams is a person’s only obligation in life, and that doing so contributes to the happiness and positivity of the world. However, not everyone has the courage to try. Why? Because of the four obstacles.

(Note: I’m paraphrasing so I don’t run into copyright issues. Remember, I didn’t originate these ideas, Paulo Coelho did. I’m just recapping them, because I like them.)

1. We are told that our dream is impossible. Over the years, the more we hear this, the less we believe, and the deeper we bury our dream even from ourselves.

2. If we manage to keep our dreams above ground (or dig them back up), then we must overcome love. We are afraid to hurt our loved ones by abandoning everything to pursue our dream, because we forget that those who really love us want us to succeed, and will accompany us on our journey.

3. If we are able to trust in our loves, then we must face our fear. We are afraid because if we fail, we cannot pretend we did not really want to succeed. We do want to achieve our dream, and we have risked everything for it. So we must have patience and persevere.

4. Finally, if we outlast our fears, then we come up against the final obstacle: ourselves. As we stand on the brink of success, we are suddenly filled with guilt. We do not understand why we should be so fortunate as to achieve our dream when so many others have not. This is the most dangerous of the obstacles, because there is an aura of martyrdom around it, around sacrificing your happiness and success for the sake of others. However, if you truly believe yourself worthy of the dream you worked so hard to achieve, then you should finish what you started, and understand that in doing so, you have contributed to the betterment of the universe.

Deep stuff, huh?

Well, reading The Alchemist made me examine myself in light of these ideas. I know what obstacles I’m facing right now (#2 and #3), and I can’t say that this book solved those problems, but I do think that it inspired me to overcome them. As Coelho says, the universe conspires to help everyone who is on their journey to achieve their dream. I guess that means Coelho is part of my conspiracy.

Sometimes it’s so hard to find what it is I’m trying to say. People might think you can turn creativity on and off, but it’s not like that. It just kinda comes out. A mash-up of all these things you collect in your mind. You never know when it’s going to happen, but when it does, it’s like magic. It’s just that simple, and it’s just that hard.

(You can watch Gwen’s commercial on HP’s website here.)

She’s got it, man. I mean, there’s a lot of hard work that goes into “creativity,” but you can’t make a fire without a spark, no matter how hard you rub those two sticks together.

Some days there are more sparks than others. Some days there are no sparks at all. (Those days stink.) Some days there are tons of sparks, but I’m too busy rubbing those two sticks somewhere else (work, sleep, relationships, self) that I miss out. I think that’s what I hate the most: inconvenient inspiration.

It used to happen to me all the time in class. In fact, I get most of my ideas “when I shouldn’t.” When I was in school, that meant I was scribbling in my journal instead of taking notes on double integrals, or the Battle of Gettysburg, or the function of the amygdala. Some of those ideas panned out — in fact, I’m still working on some of them now — but a lot didn’t. But that doesn’t matter, because they were coming hard and fast, and it was fun.

I don’t get as many ideas anymore. I think it’s because my mind isn’t being as stimulated, at least not in as many different ways as it was when I was taking a breadth of courses with a diversity of people. I thought maybe it would happen at work: inspiration would strike right in the middle of a call with a client! I’d have to covertly scribble my thoughts in the midst of my project notes! My boss would wonder why I suddenly looked so happy, and I’d have to say that I was just really excited about next round of proofreading!

But what’s worse than having to cover up my inspiration is not getting it at all.

Okay, I do still get ideas. It’s not like I’m a dried-up well (pardon the cliché) or a has-been at age 22. (God I hope not.) But I think I need more stimulation. Work is pleasant, but it’s routine. I need to be confronted by knowledge, moved to tears, astounded by reality.

So what’s my plan for now?

Watch PBS.

Honestly! I don’t know if it’s a real solution, but it’s a start. Watching PBS, reading the news, listening to people… it’s all about the stories. The people, the places, the real emotions that we feel and deal with. The more I take in, the more I “mash up” (to use Gwen’s phrase). The more I take in, the more I can spit out. And polish. And shine.

And man do I want to shine.