Even when I go to sleep after midnight, I wake up before the sun. Often, I think about something I heard Wayne Dyer say during one of his talks about getting up first thing in the morning and writing before the sun comes up. Usually, I try to roll over and go back to sleep.
Three days into the new year, I figure it’s safe to say that 2020 isn’t coming back so I’ve been staring at this white page for nearly an hour wondering what to write about. Many writing coaches say that I need to think about my audience and write to them. I’ve never known who my audience is, and it is a bit of a challenge to know what I’m writing about when I don’t know to whom I’m writing.
Granted, I’ve written plenty of words over my lifetime, but I’ve found few people to read them. I’ve produced a number of videos that few people have watched. And I’ve composed quite a few songs that few people have listened to.
This is not me complaining. I’m just pointing out that I have yet to find my audience, and although I have always been compelled to “write the world”, it has been a bit discouraging to have so few people read the words I write. And yet, I write anyway.
What else am I going to do with my time on this planet? I’ve spent the last couple of days watching YouTube videos and whatever free movies I could find on the internet, and I have to admit that it’s not all that fulfilling. Yet even when no one reads what I write, when I do it well, and the words flow, there is quite a bit of fulfillment that comes through it.
Nevertheless, without an audience, I feel that it is not nearly as fulfilling as it could be. Often, I write for myself, I suppose, which in its way could be considered quite masturbatory. It still feels good, but not nearly as good as it could if I were sharing the experience with someone else.
For instance, it’s a lot of fun to learn new songs on the guitar and really get into playing them. However, without anyone to listen to them, it’s just not quite what it could be. As far as performing goes, there is nothing like connecting with an audience, and I imagine it’s the same for writing.
It’s sort of like that question, if a tree falls in the forest, and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? If a writer writes something, and no one reads it, does it matter? If a musician plays a song that no one ever hears, is it music?
I like to think that everything I’ve written up to this point in my life has been practice. Or even better, I like to think that I’ve been stockpiling my art until I’m discovered. I realize that there are no overnight sensations, but I do know that word can spread quite quickly when a sensation is discovered and appreciated.
A woman I met recently remarked on how much I had accomplished in my life after I showed her the assortment of projects on my website. But I don’t always feel accomplished. I have my moments when I take some pride in the fact that I’ve done a lot of stuff and created quite a few things, but usually, I feel shameful that I haven’t done more.
Shame doesn’t attract an audience. It’s a very low vibration. Many people feel it, but few are drawn to it.
Unfortunately, although I often come across as arrogant and proud (which seems to largely be part of my Leo temperament), I’m actually pretty ashamed of quite a few of the decisions I’ve made in my life. Granted, I often say that the plethora of failures I’ve experienced over the course of my lifetime are testament to the fact that I’m at least trying things, which is not something that everyone does. Nevertheless, failures take their toll on one’s self esteem, and while I’ve had plenty of moments where I felt as if I were creating the perfect experience for myself and carving out my own niche, my ventures are often sabotaged by feelings of unworthiness and shame.
I am often a big thinker, and so I create outlandish goals for myself that I can never live up to, and when I don’t, that usually adds to my distress. I suppose that I take solace in the idea that perhaps someday, maybe even after I’ve passed on to the next dimension of existence, my work will be discovered and inspire people. However, a quick perusal of all of the other things that have been written and produced, and are added to the Internet every day, makes me think I’m just adding to the noise of humanity’s buzzing as it hurls itself toward extinction.
Oh my. What to write about?
