the enchanted 15: patience

You are the grim, goal-oriented ones who will not believe that the joy is in the journey rather than the destination no matter how many times it has been proven to you.- Stephen King

I think the key to creative power is Patience.  

I've been reading a book about JRR Tolkien.  I am blogging a bit about it, so I won't go into it here too much, but I've got to say that the biggest gift of this book (and there are many) is the gift of Tolkien's patience.  I sometimes focus too much on completion.  And confessio: 

I focus too much on completion because I tend to start things and not finish them.  

I am imprudent.  Rash.  Impulsive.  I operate on gut instinct.  This serves me well in some situations and not so well in others.  Like a young girl who rushes into relationship with the first guy who comes along and gives her a smile, I rush into projects before I've had time to discern whether or not they are the right ones.  And then, because I inevitably reach a point at which I realize that perhaps I'm in the wrong project, I grit my teeth and finish in an act that is not so much determination but penance.  So bringing work to completion and quickly has been an overarching project of mine, not only as a writer but, hey, let's face it, as a human being.  

This is not actually what I want to talk about here--though being prudent in what you take on in your writing and being a good steward of your talent and time are very valuable conversations to have--what I want to talk about here is Patience.  

Tolkien wrote The Hobbit and then the demand for sequels hit--and it was in his creation of The Lord of the Rings where the act of sustained creation occurred.  It was an act that lasted at least twelve years, and then he went on revising, updating, and amending the work until his death in 1973.  It was something that hadn't occurred to me, to make a process last this long, to almost forget about completion and dwell with love and tenderness on details, like a name, or a place, or a forgotten history. A poem within the book, or a kind of food that only exists in the world of your creation.  

I can sort of experience that now.  I am writing articles for publication and working on my dissertation. The dissertation sort of backgrounds everything I do.  And I like working on smaller projects here and there because the ideas and processes in both cross-fertilize.  But I have another project to which I have alluded here--a series of fantasy novels.  

I started the process while pregnant with my second child and my beginning notes are already annotated with histories and notes for prequels and sequels.  I have resurrected the project--but it often lies dormant for more than a week at a time as pressures with my other writing and with my family supplant it regularly on my agenda.  

But sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night or early in the morning with a line of dialogue or a solution to a narrative problem.  The complexity of the plot threads become more entangled with each other.  And I am a bit awestruck at the gift of time in the process.  I am often frustrated and have actually asked friends to pray that I can be done with my dissertation and put more time into this project.

But I realize that exactly where I am right now is where I need to be.  Should it become my number one priority right now, my rush toward completion would make this a much more shallow project than it will be once I actually am able to put more time into it.  It is a gift, to wait.  Almost always.  When stuck in traffic, and I feel an urge to scream or pound the steering wheel I remind myself to consider the wait a gift.  A time to pray or reflect or simply to relax and be.  

I've come to look at any blocks or subversion of my desires as a gift in disguise and reap fruit from that in ways I can't really describe well here--but if you start to look at frustration in the following way, I guarantee you that you will see what I mean without having to describe it to you:

Look at frustration as a sign that you are neglecting the gift of what is right in front of you.  When you are frustrated it is because something is whispering, "No, not yet."  It is a sign to explore and sink deeper into what is right in front of you.  It's a sign that you haven't learned the secret yet.  What is the secret? It is that you have everything you need, everything you are supposed to have, and that you are everything you should be right now.  

I don't have to remind you--I am talking about being a writer.  But that is always just a convenient excuse for talking about being a human being.  Being a writer is a lens through which you can examine not just writing but everything.  

Cultivate Patience--I think of Patience as gently coaxing with faith in the outcome.  You cannot be Patient without faith. 

Comments

[www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=1407169823]

Beautiful, Jen! And so what I need to be reminded of over & over. I'm fond of saying, "patience is a virtue... just not one of mine." =)

This is truly Enchanted and one I'll have to sit with, let marinate and soak in deeply....

[Kate P]

I really, really needed to read this today.

[Jen Pierce]

Thanks to both of you and I'm glad it struck a chord.