When I started writing, creativity—writing in particular—was often described as a sprint. A dead run away from Resistance and the censor, gremlins galore. I was told, if I write fast enough, those voices couldn’t catch me. It’s advice that often works.
But, we aren’t built to sprint more than a hundred or two hundred yards at a time, and sprinting can be exhausting. A sprint isn’t a long term plan—maybe a series of sprints is?
What if instead I could see my resistance and fears for the ghosts and empty husks they are? Jumping mad illusions that can’t bite, only bark, just bay at the moon?
How would a person do that?
(The first step might be to merely ask the question).
[I end most blog posts with a fun drawing. This week I’ll posting a little musical sketch from “The Fearless Songwriting Challenge,” I host. To find out more join the email list below!]
Punch Drunk
The call from on high
Abraham is climbing the mountain
with his son at his side
Hallelujah
The knife gets knocked from his hand
If faith and love are blind what makes a man man?
Is it strength
Is it guts
Is it Jacob who wrestles the angel to say what’s what?
Black Jack
Dealer hit me one more
Eros and Mars at the table baby what’s in store?
Hallelujah
Let’s play roulette
The sword and the scales are level let’s place a bet
Is it faith
Is it love
Does deaf and dumb and blind describe us?
Rain and Fire
Fire and rain
You and me and four horsemen on the ride again
Hallelujah
String up you bow
Takes shots at each other with loves arrows
Is it caring
Or generous
Could the warmth of a kind embrace embrace us?
timmyr.com 