On Hiatus?

A friend of mine put up a tweet that after months of not writing, they might be ‘done’ with writing...

It gave me pause for reflection, especially since I’ve been struggling for the past year on what my own efforts ‘mean’... but do they mean anything that permanent?

No. I don’t use words like burn-out or writer’s block or labels that speak to negative OR positive threads of commitment these days. We’re all adjusting to a new and uncomfortable normal and I think it’s been a significant part of my all-around health to stop demanding an extreme assignment for my actions.

Then again, I’ve always been that way, in a sense. I’ve never found it helpful to compound my issues with labels. I’ve never found them particularly helpful to any kind of success. There are many ‘experts’ that might say it’s a form of denial not to call it what it is, but we have so many people these days especially that are so quick to label what they see as the problem rather than put anything worthwhile to the constant but not obsessive analysis that things actually need and deserve.

At this point, it can simply be okay to be unsure. While it’s been a bit torturous to leave my second series suspended, I do have copious notes for how I would like to continue and even complete the books, so I haven’t been willing to say I am done. I didn’t start serial writing with the intent to keep myself chained to the work until it’s finished in a timely manner. In fact, many very popular and known series have suffered years of delays and likely for the same issues I’m having. My heart and motivation just isn’t firmly planted in the world I created, not like it should be. Some authors might actually admit mental health issues being an underlying cause, some might actually have written themselves into a deep hole that requires constant immersion to keep up with the many plots and they’ve only got a shallow foothold in it amidst current distractions.

Either way, it’s okay to admit we’re not machines, solely devoted to our arts. Sometimes they just aren’t an escape or a motivation or where we need to be right now. Sometimes we need larger chunks of time to be what we need to be for a project. It’s plenty a torment for us creatives to admit that since we know full well that time isn’t guaranteed. We want that finish something fierce once we’ve tasted it, but we also want that passion and focus that made those projects something worthy to put our names on. This is probably especially true when you’re relatively unknown, when putting out half-assed garbage might stigmatize the quality of your work.

And again, I’m mostly just playing video games to while away the time. I haven’t been able to focus much on reading either. I’ve been playing remakes of the original Dragon Quest games which I can easily say were an early inspiration for my own ideas. I’m not exactly playing them to get inspired to work again, just trying to remember basic appreciation for where I’m coming from.

I truly don’t know if/when I’ll find my muse again. It’s a time to feel weak and vulnerable because I’m admitting I’m not ‘something’ enough to pursue my dream work. A big ‘something’ is missing but I’ve consciously tried and failed what I know and nothing takes. My days feel focused on basic hygiene, housework, humility and kindness, both to myself and to those around me. It’s simplistic and unchallenging, or rather it should be, but it feels daunting.

At the same time, I do feel strangely empowered. To be able to admit that I am actively in search of myself isn’t easy. It’s always been socially acceptable to only talk about how motivated and in control we are. But if you are in a state of doubt and adrift, it’s not quite failure, as long as you are honest with yourself. It’s possible to even be proud of at least the admittance of flaws, of a hitch in the efficiency of plans, to admit that you’re reduced to a creature of basic function, as long as you’re not wasting time in a state of self-pity and misery. If you’re reflecting, using the time to get to know yourself better, there is simply no point in worrying you can never find your way back to a more ideal state of being.

So if you feel you need to walk away from your dreams, don’t lament it as permanent. Find a way to be accepting of your need to explore some other facets of your life for a while. Come back to it when you’re hungry for it. As long as you live, there is always opportunity to pick it up. Regrets have no place in a life still full of potential. Don’t wish at age 60 for what you didn’t do at age 30. If there’s a will, there’s a way.

Sure, some dreams are very grounded in youth, but perhaps if you couldn’t be the Olympian, you could still become the coach or the guru, to go as far as you can physically go for yourself. Some dreams are simply far too specific and deny the dreamer the fulfillment of the journey. If your dream is simply a lofty end goal, perhaps it is time to condense it, to extract its most worthwhile parts, then expand it into something attainable again. Give maturity to immature dreams and you’ll never cater to regret.