An Exercise In Creative Self-Discipline
February 15th, 2007 by JaneIt is my firm belief that there is almost no better mood elevator than being engaged in an act of creativity. I have often looked at the creative process as a chance to give ourselves a “god-like” experience. When we knit a sweater, write a story, paint a painting, or play the piano, we are putting something into the universe that hadn’t previously been there. This process requires work, planning, organizational skills, and of course imagination and creativity. Mastery of these qualities can be satisfying, at least; and exhilarating, at best. Because I have a love-hate relationship with writing (a subject for another post!), I have decided to take a plunge and actually write a story, or maybe even something longer (dare I say novel?; I am not sure where it will wind up) in this blog. Enough talk, I want to expose myself by actually doing a public piece. I will be demonstrating my process, and exposing my imperfections. I have writen previously about how risk taking is a key ingredient in creativity, and accomplishment, and now I will put my “money where my mouth is.” I will commit to contributing to this story at least once per week.
I might also remark on the details of the process. For starters, my biggest fear is that I will lose steam, that perhaps I will get off to a great start, but will have difficulty sticking with it. Of course, I anticipate wanting the material to be impressive, but the discipline of sticking with the project is my greatest challenge. Wish me luck!!!!!
Here is the start of my story/novel/whatever:
When I was at Harvard studying Russian Lit. twenty-nine years ago, my friends were convinced that I would be either a famous writer myself, or, if not that, then I would without a doubt teach at an Ivy one day. No one would have expected to find me living on the streets of New York, homeless, and writing my novel in the various Apple stores on any computer that was free for a moment.
I got into Harvard because I convinced my best friend from Henniker High take my SAT’s for me, and my brother Tony, an unusual genius, wrote my application essay. Tony suffered from Aspberger’s Syndrome, but in spite of behaving like a cardboard box, he wrote like Philip Roth. Since I have always been a top-of-the-line bullshit artist, I charmed the pants off the pretentious admissions committee at Harvard. I talked to them about my mother, who cleaned the bathrooms at the cinema in town, was married to an abusive man (not my actual father), and how I worked three jobs in order to stay away from the family chaos. Of course I included my two volunteer positions. One was that I assisted Dr. White, the town GP, who was famous for delivering babies at home. A large percentage of Henniker residents live in the back woods, where a dirt road and a wood-burning stove, is the norm. There’s always been a preponderance of hippies in town, and many of the homesteader types insist on delivering their babies at home with Doctor White.
I am not bullshitting, but Doc White is about sixty, has white shoulder length hair, a full white beard, and is always seen wearing a pair of very baggy white jeans, with a red and yellow plaid flannel shirt. His footwear is exclusively dirty white bucks. Since the White’s live two doors down from me, right in the center of town, I regularly played with their black Labrador retriever, who was my therapy dog (for the times when I needed to break away from the claustrophobic climate at home). Francis White adored me and I think he sympathized with my situation, so when he asked me to join him on his home deliveries, I was intrigued. He needed an assistant to work with the family members who, from his point of view, were “a pain in the ass.” My job is to play with the kids, and if it’s a first time mother and father, I am supposed to be there to keep everyone on track. Since I am a long distance runner, I have a combination of enormous self discipline, the ability to withstand physical pain, and a great appreciation and understanding of the breaths impact on the mind and body. Dr. White admires me for this, and he thought that I would make a great coach and assistant during his home deliveries. I was thrilled by the offer, felt really valued, and jumped at the opportunity.
