I don't know how I do what I do
That’s how my exploration of the writing process started over a year ago.
I was preparing my application for a project that was geared at helping develop writers through process exploration, through the foundation of daily practice, through a commitment to the work and to each other. And that’s the first thing I wrote: I don’t know how I do what I do.
I was afraid to say it. To admit that most of the time I don’t have a clue how I do something that seems so fundamental to who I am. It seemed the most honest thing – and scary thing – I could say.
I don’t know if I’m any closer to an answer than I was then, when I sat there looking at the blank screen, knowing what I should, what I must say, but fearful to admit my own short-comings. Surely, I thought, they won’t want me, not when I admit I don’t have a clue what my process is.
But they did. And if I’ve discovered anything over the past year and a bit, it’s that the conversations, the exploration, the sharing is probably better than an answer. I’ve been inspired not only both those in the group with me, but with the conversation happening on online about how we do what we do and how we become better. So this is my attempt at continuing that conversation, continuing that exploration, and, essentially, writing my way to the answer.