Water Where You Want to Grow

The other day, I met with one of my critique groups over video chat, and someone (knowing the day job has been busy) gently asked, “Have you been able to write?”

I thought about the past couple of months, and I sadly and shamefully answered, “No.”

My day job has been busy. Beyond busy. I’m working more hours, and after the work is (never) done, I’m mentally and physically drained. It’s a constant struggle to find space for my creative headspace (see blog post from last summer). 

But then, as things tend to happen, one of my sweet friends sent me this quote, completely unrelated to my writing struggle:

“When a flower doesn’t bloom, you fix the environment in which it grows, not the flower.” - Source: according to the internet, lots of people, but (maybe?) Alexander Den Heijer 

I was struck by the imagery, but also by another thought: I’m not watering the places in my life where I want to grow.

My first thought was about writing, of course, and how I’m not spending time actually, you know, WRITING. But this could apply to other things, like working out (which I’ve all but abandoned in the past few weeks), or meditating or cooking more than reheating meals… the list could go on and on. 

How could I become a career writer when I’m not spending time helping that part of my life grow?

Water Where You Want to Grow

The text from my friend also made me curious about actual gardening. I did not inherit my mother’s green thumb. Our garden out front survives, more than it thrives. So, I looked up what it takes to grow a plant:

• Sunlight

• Air

• Proper Temperature

• Moisture

• Nutrients

Notice, it’s not one thing. It’s five things. And taking a deeper look, there’s more to these five things than appears:

• Quality, quantity, duration of light influences growth

• Plants need healthy root systems in order to carry the water, nutrients, and oxygen to their stems, leaves, and blooms

• The texture of soil influences the amount of air, water, and nutrients it holds, and plants need 16 or 17 different nutrients (depending on the resource you cite) to grow

What did I learn from this research? You can’t just pour water on a plant and expect it to grow to its full potential. It takes more than one element to enable a plant to stretch its leaves to the sky and bloom. 

Which means, I can’t just write new stuff all the time and expect to grow to my full potential as a writer. It takes more than getting words on a page to become the writer I want to be.

With this in mind, I thought back more objectively, and broadly, on the past couple of months.

Have I worked on revisions? Yes. 
Have I worked on story pitches? Yes. 
Have I read in the genres that I want to write? Yes. 
Have I critiqued other people’s work? Yes. 
Have I researched potential agents? Yes.
Have I put my work “out there?” Yes.
Have I nourished my mind, body, and soul in other ways to welcome creativity in? Yes. 
Have I read for pleasure? Yes. 
Have I talked about my stories with others? Yes.
Have I connected with my writing community? Yes.
Have I had fun thinking about my stories, my characters, and my many, many plot holes? Yes.

Actual flowers in my garden… THRIVING!

So while I gave my critique partner a quick and confident, “no,” the other day, the answer should have been “YES.” Maybe I’m not pouring superfood onto a blank page and watching it shoot to the sky. But I am attending to my writing like a garden. I’m making the soil more fertile. I’m pulling the weeds. I’m making room for the sunshine, and I’m soaking in the life giving rain.

Often we have a tunnel vision view of what doing that thing (like writing) successfully means. Sometimes that makes us feel like we are never doing the thing we want to do, we’re not doing it well enough, or we never have time to invest in it fully.

But the truth is, just like there’s more than one way to help a plant grow, there’s more than one way to help ourselves grow in the ways we want to grow. Even if it seems small, acknowledge what you’re doing, do what you can do, and give yourself grace. Know you’re tending your garden in the best, and many ways, you can. And over time, and with the right amount of luck, someday you and your garden will bloom and flourish to your full potential. 

Ditching the Plan

I’m a planner. I don't just like to know what's ahead, I have to know what's ahead. I love certainty, and the sense of perceived control planning allows.

At this stage in my life, my planning obsession has helped me find a lot of success personally and professionally. But also at this stage in my life, my planning obsession is becoming a hindrance to my personal and professional growth.

As a goal oriented planner, I’ve spent a lot of time researching and studying "the path" to becoming a published author/making a career as an author. Understandably, nothing is fool proof, but my takeaway for what would work best for me is:

1) Have a (perfect) portfolio across what I want to write

2) Use said portfolio to find a career focused partnership with an agent

3) Continue to write, write, write no matter what

Just like our life journey, our creative journey bends and curves, carving new paths for us as we go.

I crafted a plan for how I would accomplish the three steps above, and then it was time to get to work.

I wasn't on a particular timeline at first, but as other things in my life started to become more uncertain, I desperately needed certainty in some aspect of my life to feel like I had control over what was ahead. So, I started doubling down on all of my writing, pushing and pushing to do as much as possible (like switching from project to project multiple times a week to keep momentum, cramming any bit of “free” time with something writing related, overcommitting to webinars and workshops, and setting unrealistic and arbitrary deadlines). I lived in a constant state of judging and examining my portfolio, always thinking about it's agent readiness with an eye on the calendar like it was a ticking bomb.

Because let’s be honest, time often feels like a ticking bomb when it comes to creative goals. Especially as we get older.

I got to the point where I “ran” my creative work like I did my full time job work. Rather than approaching my writing as a creative outlet, it turned into something that needed to be planned and obsessed over, pushing hard, and never allowing myself a break.

When creating becomes more business than joy, there's a problem.

And that problem was me. I was putting so much pressure on myself to make this writing dream happen now. Partly because it helped me manage the anxiety I felt over other uncertainties in my life, but also because I wanted it so bad. But the thing is, holding my dream in a vice didn’t allow for any alternatives. It didn’t allow for spontaneous discovery. It didn’t allow for a possible, unanticipated, wondrous journey that could exceed my wildest dreams. My planning obsession allowed for only one path to becoming a career author. And as a result, there was no joy. No creative energy. No writing.

One day, deep in self reflection on why I was putting so much pressure on myself, it dawned on me: there is no expectation that any of my work will ever be published, or ever turn into a career, or will ever be anything more than something I do for myself.

And that revelation was wildly freeing.

Which leads me to doing something I rarely have been able to do: I’m throwing my plans away.

I'm not forcing the stories I have now to become part of my portfolio just because they fit a plan. I'm not pushing to query agents by an arbitrary XYZ date. I'm not forcing myself to switch from project to project every other day because it fits the schedule I think I need to keep.

I’m making a conscious decision to allow my writing journey to progress naturally instead of trying to force it into a box.

I have no idea when I'll be ready to query. I have no idea if any of the stories I'm working on now will be stories that get published. I have no idea if my dream of being a career author will ever come true.

What I do know is that if I want any part of that dream to happen, I need to be flexible. I need to accept that I don't know how the path ahead looks. I need to accept that so much of it is out of my control. And I need to focus on the one thing I can control:

Writing.

So here's to embracing the curves and the bends on this writing journey. Here's to not seeing those curves and bends coming. Here’s to not trying to control them. Here's to allowing the path to be unexpected. And here's to embracing wherever the path may lead.

Because no matter where the path takes me, only one thing will ever be certain: my unwavering love for writing.