support

Here's something I just posted to the group board of my embodied writer class. We've been focusing on the issue of support - what kind of support do we need from others in order to pursue our writing more seriously and deeply? Out of context, it probably comes across as pretty whiny. Oh well, at least it's honest. And I think the question of support is good one inasmuch as it breaks down that myth that writers are supposed to be autonomous units that don't need anything from anybody for anything - especially writing.

A big knot inside of me when I start to think about the question of support. But let me back up a little bit . . .

This class has made me much more aware of the "writer inside me" as a person who has hopes, fears, needs, and so forth. I don't want to draw an artificial distinction between me-as-me and me-as-writer, but talking about my "writer self" as opposed to my "everyday self" seems not only to help bring my needs as a writer into sharper focus but also helps me feel less guilty about asking for support around those needs. I don't feel so selfish when I think "well, there's this writer guy inside of me and he needs me to care for him, to advocate for him, to negotiate the everyday world on his behalf; indeed, it would be unjust not to do so. Besides, I didn't ask for him to be there; he was given to me and now it's my job to honor that gift."

Of course it's easier to have that epiphany than it is to put it into action. Right now, my writer-self seems to want nothing more than solitude and time -- time to read, to absorb, to think, to write. One image that keeps coming back to me is that of the short clip we watched several weeks ago of the woman grieving -- the way her arms instinctually pushed everyone away in an attempt to clear a space for her grieving to unfold as itself, as her own unique, unencumbered act of grieving. My writer-self similarly wants to push aside work and friends and family and even all the good, pleasant, enriching distractions that the city offers in order to clear a space to simply be that writer.

What I'm struggling with right now is figuring how to get an adequate sense of psychic space in a way that isn't self-destructive (e.g., quitting my job, which I depend on to pay the bills) or alienating to those around me (e.g., "Go away, I don't have time for you! I've got to write!"). It occurs to me that perhaps scheduling a couple of nights per week to treat like a class might help. Say, every Tuesday and Thursday, I could spend from 6-9pm doing nothing but reading and/or writing. I would perhaps have to do it away from home (a library?), turn off my phone – maybe even lie and tell people that I really am taking a class -- in order to get both myself and others in my life to take this effort seriously. (And it occurs to me now that I could perhaps find someone else to do this with, in order to help me stick to both the schedule and intent).

Anyway, all of this to say that I'm still trying to figuring out what kind of support I need. I know it has something to do with clearing time, but I haven't yet been able to give it much more definition than that.