Last week I caught this brilliant sunset as I walked outside. The rays stretched their arms, while the clouds embraced the flicker. Witnessing this radiance startled me, only because in the last few months I’ve paid more attention to the struggle, despite the beauty. I’ve always tried to gaze toward gratitude, but sometimes I miss opportunities to cherish what it is in front of me.
A few weeks ago someone inquired about my career as a writer and whether I made any revenue from my writing. I paused for a second, fumbling for the words, shocked at the ease in which the question was asked. I’ve learned sometimes a harmless question pierces my vulnerability. My answer, “Of course. I make money.” His response, “You aren’t pursuing law anymore?” I responded with a quick, staccato, “No.” The conversation left me discombobulated, maybe since I’ve questioned my writing path, my dedication to the craft and the perception of how others view my chosen profession. It opened up a chasm of the struggle I felt during the summer months when the words were sparse and every time I jockeyed to the page, the only welcome was silence.
These doubts jitterbug across my legs at night and spill over to other areas where I am not enough. I contemplate another day and all the things left undone or unsaid. I whisper to myself, “Tomorrow.” Yes, tomorrow, I have a chance. Lately though the next day morphs into another and the to-do list isn’t filled with red checkmarks, but a reminder of all the tasks left uncompleted. It grows like an uncontrollable ivy, the green leaves crisscrossing, stems intertwined and tangled. Perhaps it is the season to be rooted in this maze of trying to figure out what matters the most and actively building a life toward this landscape. But the view becomes muddled and the uncertainty interferes with its laser focus, deterring what I believed only minutes before. Sometimes everything seems complicated, but the truth is I could change this perspective in an instant. I am responsible for the narrative I choose to believe.
I’ve contemplated the word, resistance, in the last couple of days, especially in the important areas of my life. Yesterday I felt hyper aware of it as I substituted a meaningless task to avoid work that required my attention. When I put up a barricade, aren’t I responsible for my doubt? And does this awareness mean I am actively committing to changing the way I do things? These are all valid questions. Logically, all of it makes so much sense. In order for an outcome to change, I must alter my approach. But it isn’t always easy, especially when resistance pushes you to stay with what you know. The words failure, fear, confusion become common denominators and doubt becomes the only consistent mantra.
Perhaps penning this ramble is a good first step. I doubt. Every single day. I struggle, even when I stare at obvious beauty. But what would life be if I didn’t reflect on the potpourri of what isn’t, only to be reminded again and again of what is.
Embracing doubt is a part of accepting beauty.
Welcome! I am a lawyer turned freelance writer, essayist, and editor. On staff at Literary Mama and the co-founder and co-editor of the literary journal, The Sunlight Press, my essays and reported work have appeared in The Washington Post, The Lily, Saveur, Civil Eats, Brain, Child, ESPN and elsewhere. I am currently at work on a memoir on grief and culture and how it provides perspective on life’s ordinary graces. I invite you to appreciate the ordinary with me. I hope my daily practice of seeing the magic in the mundane helps you celebrate and find more of these moments in your life too.
I understand this struggle well. Becoming a freelance writer has also forced me to redefine success outside of the traditional terms of money. Hard to do sometimes.
This. You have described so well what I have been feeling the past few weeks/months too. The struggle and resistance coupled with the self-doubt. I’ve chosen this path so should I be happy and excited about what I do? All this to say is that you are not alone.
Me too. I doubt too. Every day. Thank you for beautifully evoking the particular struggle, and its joys, too (that photo!). xoxo
Relate 1000% (yes meant that extra zero) percent both on the resistance to more than just writing. And to that ick I feel when people ask about the money. Yes, it hits a vulnerable spot for sure. Also, what is wrong with people?! 😉
Rudri! Did you sneak into my office before writing this?! I’ve got a 1,000 word essay sitting in a file folder about this very thing (writers being asked if they make any money). I can’t bring myself to submit it anywhere because I fear the tone sounds so far from my intent…but you. You captured it so eloquently here. I, like Nina, relate 1000% to this post. And I too am becoming better at embracing the doubt. I don’t see any other way really. Great, great post.
I think, no, I know that every writer can relate. I have people ask that very question and I agree with Nina, who asked, What is wrong with people? This is one of the reasons I’ve been practicing being a conscious observer- observing the thoughts – those fears and doubts and What am I doing questions. Embracing doubt is part of accepting beauty? I love that.
Doubt, fear, confusion and others from the same family reside in me and plague me every day. At least you were able to say ‘Yes, of course I earn from my writing’. I can’t even say that and ask myself constantly why I still do this, why I continue to write. Am I wasting my life away?..my education, my training? Am I enough?…The questions never end and you are definitely not alone.
Why you write and what you earn is your business. You need not have replied, but I understand when someone pushes doubt in your radar you feel the need to defend. I’ve often felt the need to defend why I ended a career and now run a daycare. My finances are of no one’s concern, and I don’t expect anyone else to understand the joy I receive in what I do. But still, every once in a while it pushes me to doubt my reasons and fulfillment in it…or perhaps the doubt is exactly what pushes me to feel this joy and fulfillment. Keep doing what makes you happy, Rudri, and don’t feel you owe anyone an explanation.
Why do people think it’s ok to ask rude questions of writers? People don’t ask engineers or fast food workers questions like that.
It is not the people’s piercing questions that are hurtful. It is the unacceptance of our own doubts that haunt us. As Rudri beautifully put “embracing doubt is a part of accepting beauty” there will come a day when we don’t need to defend or justify our choices and can feel comfortable with our vulnerability. And this will come when we accept ourselves, and a response like this may flow “Yes I don’t practice law anymore and don’t make as much money as before. While there are times I have doubted my choice, I feel very fortunate that my family doesn’t depend on my being in the rat race. I have more time for family, connecting, reaching out to the world through my writing and feel satisfied at the end of the day”. Sometimes some of those piercing questions someone asks because they are contemplating a shift in their career and wondering whether the monetary loss is worth the gain chasing their dream. Sometimes they really care about us and want to know if the choice was prudent enough. Sometimes they can’t accept our choice for us. Sometimes they are plain rude but isn’t rudeness masking their own vulnerability. Whatever it is they will have to figure out a way to deal with themselves. When we don’t take things personally, we are helping the other person too in our truthful response. And when we take things personally it is a good awareness exercise for ourselves to understand why we are hurting. When we have accepted our choices with its vulnerabilities, our response may shift from focusing on ourself to the other and we may just ask “Why do you ask?”
Nina is correct, what is wrong with people?
I relate to the resistance so much! I feel like the list of uncompleted task lists grows like ivy, and I can’t even blame Alaska for it. It was growing before that and now feels like a beast!