As I’m sitting here on a Saturday afternoon, desperately going through my archive in search of one paragraph I could expand and turn into my weekly writing piece, my mind starts to overflow with doubt.
Anxiety shows up. ‘I won’t be able to make it on time. I will fail to share a new piece this Sunday morning. What was I even thinking when I decided I could keep up with this?’
In the search, I ran into a note that said: “Write one true sentence.” It comes from Hemingway’s famous advice for writers: “All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.”
I could write just one sentence and it could be enough?
What a mind-shattering idea for where I was at that moment.
I started to wonder, am I really less of a writer if I don’t always manage to produce on time the quantity and quality I expected of myself?
Isn’t what defines a writer the act of showing up daily to produce words, and not the results themselves? The results may be a measure of a writer’s proficiency in conveying meanings and telling stories. But it’s the showing up that creates one.
If we take this further, and look at what may come if I have measured myself by a temporary struggle in performance, and consequently shared no words at all, what effect would that leave behind?
I know for sure I would then carry an underlying thought in my head, ‘You won’t be able to make it next week either.’ The temptation to hide behind that fear and not share anything would rise again.
Then two weeks turn into a month, and suddenly the momentum is lost.
It’s momentum that defines our habits, our habits our beliefs, and our beliefs give shape to our identity.
Now we slowly shift from ‘I am a writer’ to ‘I failed as one.’
Just one sentence is more than enough.
Just one step forward is plenty.
It’s the meanings and messages that are being sent subtly in the background that matter more than the appearances, quantity, and even quality.
Because quality can’t find you in a vacuum.
Expertise can’t be coined by inertia.
Fulfillment can’t be created by restraining our expression.
And freedom can’t be found by gripping tighter to our fears.
