Let there be light.
After wind, hail and blinding rain, we were left without power for a few hours yesterday. The sun peeked out briefly but not long enough to eliminate the need for candles. Without internet, WordPress or Twitter on my laptop I, of course, went to my iPhone.
Genius. Until I noticed it only had a 10% battery life left and no means of charging. After complaining, to myself, and feeling the heat begin to rise due to no A/C, I sat down and listened to the silence. Without the constant sounds of technology ringing in the background–I found, surprisingly, a little peace.
The stillness in the house didn’t create a flickering of candlelight, only a warm shadowed glow across the surface of my table. As I watched the shadow move slightly, I felt a weight lift from my shoulders. Silence has a strange power if you just listen and let go.
I wrote with pen and paper in the candlelight and the pressure I’ve placed on myself loosened.
I complain about being stuck and unable to break this wall I’ve built around my WIP. But as I sat and wrote, I realized beating my head against the wall isn’t what this is about. We get so caught up in writing the perfect novel, short story, etc… So caught up in all that surrounds us. All the Noise. The inbox alert, the tweet alert, the phone ringing, the text alert, our blogs and Facebook accounts. It’s so much and it’s no wonder we lose our place, our concentration and…our reason for writing in the first place.
Before realizing my battery was close to dead, I sent out a few tweets from my iPhone. Complaining. Lisa Kilian, a fellow writer, blogger (and editor), tweeted me back. You can find her extremely insightful blog here: Lisa Kilian’s Blog
She said that she wished her power was out. She needed to decompress. Now I know what she meant. If we stop and hear the quiet for just a minute and re-connect with the reason we write, the weight lifts.
Writing isn’t about readers or followers. It isn’t about the number of blog hits or Facebook fans we have. Writing is about us, the writer. You. Me. We write for ourselves because we have something to say. The rest is just bells and whistles. Icing. We can’t use the icing if we haven’t baked the cake.
Let there be light.