On Rebellion and Response šø - Issue #4
I doubt I have an innate sense of self-disciplineā¦ but I am a natural at rebellion.
Before this year, I kind of believed that the worst thing that could happen to my sense of balance was to be kept so thoroughly occupied by duties and obligations (school, work, housekeeping, etc.) that I had no time, energy or inspiration left to do the things that feed my creative soul, on my own terms. This yearāin my first year out of school entirely, I learnt the hard way that having too much freedom, too little resistance and structureāis just as bad for my creative practice.
Without enough constraints in my day, I found that I could hardly force myself to stick to any self-imposed writing schedule. When I did, it was often because of a looming deadline (more insight on the usefulness of deadlines in Issue #1). Otherwise, Iād work for half of my consecrated writing time and then abandon my desk, or Iād get caught up with playing my favorite board game, fill my day with errands, or find myself being shuffled around by family members who could hardly help themselves from interrupting my practice or procrastination, simply because I was around.
For too many months, I was ignoring something fundamental that I should have already known about myself: I doubt I have an innate sense of self-disciplineā¦ but I am a natural at rebellion.
A few cases in point: As a teenage writer, I was nearly blindingly prolific, as a response to being repeatedly told that aspiring to be a writer was stupid, and that Iād end up broke and homeless. (Real OGās will remember #DeadBy27.) I have written most furiously in the seasons where I've been angriest at the world and the state of my life. I read the most books per year during my busiest semesters of school, because when there were assignments in front of me, my brain loved deciding that it would rather read novels than attend to them. Also, people kept telling me that the more intense my education got, the less Iād have time to read, and of course, the rebel in me had to make a point.
I have a responsive personality. But what that means for my creativity and productivity is that I often need something to respond to. When I find myself being too unproductive or struggling to turn my creativity into work, I often need the fire in my chest to be ignited externally by people, things, or circumstances.
For the most of my life so far, the thing I've been responding to has been school. While I've taken what I needed to take from it, I've simultaneously pushed against it, trying my best not to let it consume me, or shift me off the paths and passions I have chosen for myself. And that meant reading and writing in rebellion. But I'm not in school anymore.
The other thing I've responded to for most of my writing life is the discouragement that people have thrown at me for wanting to become a full-time writer. But I've reached a point where many of my formerly biggest nay-sayers mostly just leave me alone, because clearly, I've been doing much better with this writing thing than they ever thought possible. I've been consistently achieving milestones (and money, on many occasions) to sustain myself, and now, they have little left to say. So, now they donāt incentivize me either.
One of the primary reasons I decided to try a full-time job in this last quarter was to find something to respond to. It wasn't because getting a full-time job is something you're just expected to do after college. It wasn't because I was in critical need of the income (which is honestly less than the minimum wage I was used to in California, even though Accra is like, the 2nd most expensive city in the world). It wasn't because I'm trying to work my way up any sort of corporate ladder, because God knows that is not my path in life. No, I tried a full-time office job becauseāamong other personal reasonsāI needed something to get me to respond with writing.
When I first started, it took me a while to find stability, since it came with a dramatic shift in my daily schedule. But in my third week, I forced myself back into a pattern that used to work for me in college: waking up before morning broke, then writing for an hour or two before setting off for a day of obligations.
The first week I assumed this pattern, I had the most effective writing week Iād had in months. I had thought a certain writing task would take me until earliest the next Monday to completeābut I had finished it by Friday morning! And when I sent it over to my editor, she said it was great; finally polished enough to be considered a final draft, no more touching the manuscript, we were done. Even though this spike in productivity and quality was my desired outcome, I was pleasantly astonished.
One of the reasons why getting a day job worked is because I do not actually want a day job. And because I know this, my spirit pushes violently against it. Every time it feels like Iām in danger of giving the best of my time/energy/creativity to my external obligations instead of working towards what I believe is my purpose in life, my soul rebels. When I wake up at dawn, I say to myself, āAkotz, if you donāt write right now, you are going to have given the best of yourself today to somebody elseās dream, while yours remains under-fed.ā And I absolutely canāt have that.
Alas, for more reasons than I can share here, it's not really working anymore. I appreciate what I've learnt and confirmed about myself in this season, but between following the Holy Spirit and making sure I don't descend into hell on earth, I'll be making some dramatic and difficult decisions in the upcoming weeks.
Until the next issue,
The Spider Kid. šøļø