A message for anyone who's been away from their writing, or their creative work, the door is still open.
Have you been away from your writing or other creative work for a while? I don’t mean a few days or weeks, but longer.
Maybe much longer.
Perhaps life got full, or someone was sick, or work projects piled up. Maybe you’ve tried to go back to your writing or creative practice a few times, but your pen sputtered and stopped, or the canvas felt dull and dry, and you left.
Maybe you’ve only just realized that it’s been a while, and you know, perhaps from experience, that a while can slide into years.
The first thing I want you to know is that the calling to write, or to another creative pursuit, doesn’t leave us.
It waits. It whispers. It calls.
And answering the call is easier than you might think.
It might feel impossible. Like you’ve tried so many times before, or that you’re so disconnected with it, this time it’s beyond hope. I've felt that way before, but I've learned it's not true.
Not at all.
When it Calls Again
Here’s something you can try when you hear it calling you again.
First, simply acknowledge it's there — the longing to write, to create, to play. It’s part of you. It may have been suppressed, pushed away, shoved down, ignored, called names. It may've been dismissed or utterly forgotten for years, for decades. And all of that is OK.
It’s still there, whispering to you in the blue hour or in the pearly pre-dawn moments. It’s still there when you catch your mind wandering back to the things you loved to do as a child. It’s still there as you remember an image or a line that strikes something deep inside.
Remember the Love
Then, once you’ve seen it, recognized it for what it is, then, remember the Love.
Often when people decide to take those brave steps back toward their calling, they think that it's discipline and rigor and self-control that are needed. I certainly did. I will write every morning without fail. I will not leave my desk until I've written 500 words.
While some personalities are more naturally rigorous, most of us have learned to be that way as a way of surviving. As human hearts socialized by late-stage capitalism. And, for most of us it’s not a natural approach.
It’s harsh. It’s cold. Unforgiving. And the older and wiser I get, the less this type of approach works.
Love is a much better motivator. I invite you to think of it as you being in relationship with your writing. If you want to improve the relationship, imagine it’s like sitting on a park bench spending time with someone you used to know but have been away from.
Your first few visits, you might just sit, drinking in their presence. Smiling at the trees, breathing in the air.
You can start like this with your writing or creative work. Start with five minutes. See how you feel. Notice everything. The thirst for more, the longing, the remorse. Your timidity, your shyness, the licks of joy you feel.
Reflect on them, treasure them.
Then, decide when you'll come back. When will you visit your writing or creative work again?
Rather than immediately pounding the table, resolving to make a routine, ask yourself: when's the next time I'll visit? Plan just a few minutes. Will it be Thursday morning? Sunday afternoon while the kids are at soccer, or when your partner is getting groceries?
Then, set an alarm, make a post it note or a calendar reminder — whatever you'd do if you were meeting someone for coffee.
When the time comes, you show up again, on the bench. You bring your notebook and you just need to be. Anything you want to write, whatever comes, that’s all good.
Then you do it again because you enjoyed it. Because you love writing. Because it keeps calling your name.
In time, you'll wake up one day and notice that things feel different, easier even. That you've been showing up not out of obligation, but because you wanted to. Because your writing called you and you came.
Before you know it, your whole relationship will have shifted.
When was the last time you visited your writing? When might you go back?