Creative Attunement December 3-10 2013: What I Learned From National Novel Writing Month

So, this month marks the official end to National Novel Writing Month. I thought it would be apropos to talk about what I learned during that month of creative endeavor. What I took back with me, and what my journey shared with me.

One of the biggest things I learned through my month of writing was how important giving time and space to this activity really is. I learned that I was able to write so much when I was younger (I would write for six hours a day most days with no problem), not so much because I was “invincible.” I’ve been thinking it was because I was invincible for a long time. That is to say, fully supported, and loved for my art by family and friends. Because, indeed, I wasn’t able to write for three years due to a loss of familial support.

But this month showed me a different side. I realized/remembered that the biggest reason I was able to write so much when I was younger was because I was consistent. I consistently made time for my writing. Not only during specific hours of the day, but I made it a priority over everything else. Over going out to dinner. Over hanging out with friends, playing games with family, or anything else. Whenever I was offered an opportunity to become distracted I said, “No. I’ve got writing to do. Sorry.” Putting myself and my creativity first like this was something I hadn’t done in a long time. When I realized this, I asked myself why that was.

The answer surprised me. I realized that I had been guilt tripped by family. I had been ridiculed by some members with them saying to me, “You spend too much time talking and thinking about writing. You spend too much time in your own little world. It’s time for you to come out of it and care about other people.”

I remembered feeling shame. I remembered feeling torn. I did care about other people, but writing was what I loved to do. It was how I showed love to myself. It was how I honored myself and my soul. And I remember feeling miserable. I remembered feeling raw, wondering how something I loved to do could be so annoying to others. Could be seen as so selfish?

But I continued to write, even as I knew people were becoming disappointed. Disappointed that I wasn’t spending my time with them, and was instead spending it with my characters.

But the disappointment grew into all-out judgment. One day my father said to me, “You’ve got to get a real job. You’ve got to spend time doing something useful.” And this isn’t? I remembered thinking. As far as he and a lot of people were concerned, it was a waste of time. It was something to be done to fritter away time, not enhance it.

So I began to feel like other things should be more important than writing. Than that “waste of time.” So I put everyone and everything ahead of me. Ahead of making my soul happy, because that’s what a real friend did. That’s what a real “member of the family” did.

Gradually, I forgot that writing was a way of loving. I wrote for other people. For other projects. But not for me. Not for the love of it, because that wasn’t condoned.

Well, this last month I was able to fix all of that. I was able to remember that writing is loving. That creating is giving, as much as receiving. That making art can be making connections. Can be engaging in your community. In your life, just in a different way.

So what about you? If you participated in National Novel Writing Month, what did you learn? What did the journey unfold for you? Any healing? Creative insight?