Letting Go

 

“The most exquisite paradox: as soon as you give it all up, you can have it all. As long as you want power, you can’t have it. The minute you don’t want power, you’ll have more than you ever dreamed possible.” ~Ram Dass

As writers, sometimes we want so badly to be published, that we will do just about anything to make that success happen. What ultimately happens is that we get stuck on a gerbil that’s spinning so fast, we can’t get off.

By gerbil wheel, I mean this:

• I’d better interact with this author/agent/publisher/reviewer on social media because I might need their help one day.
• If I don’t enroll in this conference/course/retreat I will fail or fall behind others.
• If I don’t write 5,000 words a week, I will never get this manuscript done.
• Maybe I should try writing in a different genre because my current one isn’t getting me published.
• What if I start writing a second, third or fourth novel at the same time, because one of them is bound to work out.
• Maybe I should hedge my bets by submitting to 30 agents/publishers instead of 10…

You get the idea. We put an inordinate amount of pressure on ourselves, and with our obsessive behaviour, we end up driving ourselves, and probably the people we live with, nuts.

But what if…we simply let go? At least for awhile. What if we stop clinging with all our might to that desire to be published (which we’ve equated with success)? What if we stop fighting so hard and shelve that ferocious desire for a period of time? You know, like a time-out. I’m not suggesting a time-out from writing (though we all need periods of doing exactly this), but a time-out from scratching and clawing and obsessing over that which has eluded us.

Being published, having our work read and revered (and maybe some income for our efforts), is the brass ring for us writers. And why shouldn’t it be? We are passionate about writing, it fills our hearts and soothes our soul. It makes us feel good when we do it. We put a lot of time and effort into our writing, we make a lot of sacrifices. So of course we want that brass ring! It will make us soooo happy to finally grab onto that thing.

And yet…when we soften our grip and accept what is, often what shows up is the very thing we need. It might be that person who can be a mentor or guide. Or it might be an idea for a story, or a major development for your current work-in-progress. Or it might be something that has nothing to do with writing, but takes your life in another direction that later might inspire your writing.

I’m picturing a knapsack. A knapsack with cute sayings on it about books and writing. Things like Keep Calm and Read a Book; or Eat Sleep Read Repeat. And in that knapsack, I want you to imagine throwing in a virtual collection of rejection letters from agents/publishers and all the crappy reviews from readers/reviewers. Any of the manuscripts you have failed to finish should go in there too. Toss in all the second-guessing, the disappointment and the obsessing about why someone didn’t like your work, why it failed or is failing, why it isn’t working out the way you wanted, or why somebody else got published and not you. Let go of all those questions that have no answers (or answers you don’t want to hear). Stop obsessing over every little thing that you think is going to give you that edge that your work has been missing. Yup. Let go of it all, because you know what? Clinging isn’t really working. In fact, it can smother and stunt you as a writer.

And then we’re going to toss that imaginary knapsack into the middle of a big, imaginary lake and watch it sink to the bottom. What happens after that? You will breathe. You will yield to what needs to come into your life. You will stop letting success or lack of success define your writing. You will stop letting your writing define your life. You will give yourself time and space to let creativity and wholeness enter your life the way it is meant to. You will step boldly and bravely through whatever open door presents itself.

You will still be you. You will still be a writer. But you might end up being a different you, and a different writer. And that’s okay. Are you brave enough to take that chance?