The Blank Page 08/28/2010
 
The blank page is my single biggest enemy.  I sit down with a head filled to capacity with the fruit of my imagination.  And sadly, bare and sparse are the words I’m able to squeeze out onto the page.  It is so frustrating to have so much to say and so very little to show for the effort spent.  And at the end, I find a mostly blank page staring back at me, mocking me, taunting me, whispering foul things in my ear about the nature and certainty of my gifting.  In these moments, I whisper to myself, ‘it’s just a block of some sort, it’ll pass’.  Sometimes I find it a compelling rationalization and believe it fully.  And other times, in my darker moments, I give in to the whispers of the blank page.  This usually causes me to launch my pad across the room in frustration and stalk away, angry, irritated, and momentarily defeated.

                This has become the back and forth I’ve struggled with of late.  Some days I am able to keep my demons of doubt and confidence at bay long enough to force free a good paragraph or two, or maybe a few pages of good dialogue.  Other days, the days when it seems I don’t have an ounce of talent in my body, and I find myself crushed at the bottom of a sea of pity and regret.  For what it’s worth, this is the nature of my process.  It is the foundation of my rhythm.  When I am at the top of my cycle, I try to get as much out as I can.  In part, this is because I know the top will be replaced by the ride to the bottom at some point.

                I could lie at this point and tell you that I have more good days than bad, but what would be the point of that?  It would be ridiculously insincere, as those who know me well, know the truth.  The truth being extremely simple, my cycles ebb and flow of their own accord.  Furthermore there is no predicting them or ameliorating them.  The only thing that works is knowing I am not in this alone and that in all things good or bad God walks with me.  And my darling wife works to keep me grounded and on an even keel, (sometimes her work is feverish and tiresome and sometimes not).

                At the bottom of the cycle, I am reminded that I am a truly blessed and loved man.  I have two darling and precious daughters that make me laugh even in the toughest of circumstances.  And my amazing wife is always there holding my hand and reminding me of the simple joys that are abundant in our life together.  These joys are resplendent in the simplicity of our domicile.  They sustain me giving me strength in the dark times at the bottom.  They urge me to reach upward to move the cycle off the bottom.  It helps to push me forward to fulfill God’s call upon my life.

                The rest is silence.
 


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