“When everything else fails, just tell your story. That’s what makes you unique. Isn’t that why you fell in love with writing in the first place? To tell your story.”
I stare at the above lines I had scribbled in my notebook years ago. I don’t know whether I wrote them, or I copied them from somewhere. But today they are speaking to me directly.
What story can I tell today?
I pulled out a pile of notebooks from various drawers and boxes at the start of the year with the intention to get rid of them. I pick one, go through a few pages, wondering if there is anything I can salvage in there, and stop in track. How can I go past such profound insight?
“There is an unbelievable amount of noise in the world,” I had written underneath that quote, “It’s everywhere. Social media, television, streaming, apps, ads, music devices, and screens. It’s hard to focus on anything in a meaningful way. So hard to find direction, especially in writing. Rather than contributing to that noise, why not tell stories? Your stories?”
I am doing a storytelling course, with Dan Manning. He has mastered the art of personal storytelling. Last week he asked us to make a list of ten stories from our lives. I listed fifty. Some were just ordinary everyday stories such as When I didn’t buy Rayban sunglasses or When I skydived but then there were really painful ones, How a slap on the face stripped me of self-confidence for life and the Humiliation I felt after a pathetic presentation at work. These stories were like scars on my soul, painful and ugly. But writing about them lessened the pain and helped me move on.
Find your scars and write about them. Reflection is a great tool for writing. That’s why writing is considered a form of therapy. It can help you view the trauma of an incident from another perspective.
Reflect on your life and see the scars, then write about how you got them. Easier said than done, I know. But once you start putting one word in front of another serotonin starts peaking and you’re reminded why you wanted to write in the first place.
At the end of the day, we all want to tell stories. Our stories are our connection with the world. They tell us that we are not alone.
Write about your struggles and about your achievements. Where are you in your life and how you got there? What price you had to pay? Who helped you? Talk about your mentors. Writing about the people you look up to is a great way to solidify the lessons they taught you. We are not here just to entertain others but to extend ourselves.
Writing is meditative and constructive and there is no comparison to the feeling of finishing a writing project. Sure writing and resistance go hand in hand. Resistance only wins if it succeeds in “not letting you sit.” Once you put your butt in the chair and write the first sentence, you win. I started this letter with a single sentence I found in my diary. The whole story developed from there.
One of many things Lynda Barry has taught me: “If you don’t know what to write in your diary, you write the date at the top of the page, as neatly and slowly as you can, and things will come to you.”
“Going through the motions” is the writers’ great secret for getting started. Austin Kleon wrote in his book Steal Like an Artist, “If we just start going through the motions, if we strum a guitar, or shuffle sticky notes around a conference table, or start kneading clay, the motion kickstarts our brain into thinking.”
Get your pen moving, and something will come out. It might be trash, but it will be something.
