Thoughts on life, love and faith by Plasticmind.

Funny how difficult it is to consistently write every day, especially when stricken with different moods and temperaments. Being busy isn’t so much the issue, because it only takes fifteen minutes of my time; but the mental fatigue is what makes it difficult to push out interesting content on a regular schedule. Which brings up another problem which I’ve always had with journal writing: pretense. I have countless journal entries where I’m scolding myself for being so caught up with presenting something meaningful instead of just pushing myself to write everyday, developing the habit of writing.

I’m a content creator. I consume my fair share as well, but I have a hard time relaxing, sitting back and not creating anything. Even when I was a child, my days had creative purpose. The fun was in the making. I was a woodland explorer, exerting my dominance over nature: creating giant pools of water by damming streams, constructing giant playgrounds for the orange-red newts we found on the forest floor, building cities out of snowbanks that disappeared with the first sign of spring.

I’m sure there’s a slight bit of psychoanalysis here, but I wonder how much of that was a love of the creative process and how much was about impressing people with what I’d done? It seems that the initial incentive was creation for the sake of creation, followed by an excitement and a desire to share my personal creations with people I knew.

Sharing in someone else’s creation takes time and effort, I think. Part of loving people is learning to understand their creative processes. For instance, I doubt my parents cared very much about a dammed stream or a complex snow fort, but they loved them as much as they were an expression of my own personality.

That’s why it’s often difficult to share your creations with the world. As an artist and a musician, I know this fear well. As soon as you share your creation with others, you make yourself vulnerable by proxy. All of that self-expression is laid bare, and someone who either doesn’t understand the mode of expression or simply doesn’t think it’s a valid or meaningful message can wound you deeply.

Freewrite #10