Drawing The Line

Today, I am racked with uncertainty on what to do next with my play, Prodigal. I’m not blocked, that’s really not the problem because the words are coming out. Rather, I’m too hard judging every single syllable that comes out. That kind of criticism makes my writing contract, makes itself smaller instead of allowing the writing to blossom.

On Sunday afternoon I went to a dance showcase given by The Alvin Ailey Dance School, what I found absolutely amazing was the joy that these dancers had for their performance. Each group had different levels of abilities from beginners to more advanced students, ages ranging from young teens to older adults. There were some dancers who kept missing the beat and were completely off tempo but it just didn’t matter. A smile came up from my belly to my face because they were doing their very best and it was joyful. There was a modern piece with more advanced students they had beautiful lines and graceful movements across the stage. Then I watched my sister’s group do their hip-hop number, Vick was all smiles as she went through her number, I know how hard she had worked at getting this piece down and it flowed beautifully. I’m always amazed at watching my sisters do the thing that they love to do. Go Vicky!!

Having written that, I think to myself, how is that I can watch these novice dancers and find joy in them missing steps and yet be so ruthless with myself with my writing? How can I be so gentle and forgiving with others and be so demanding of my own work? There is this twisted part of me that actually thinks snapping the whip will get better results, when all it really does is close me up. It makes me retreat away from the work, the words, the characters and then I’m fit to be tied.

There is this Zen practice in brush painting where students are told to draw a line across a paper. That is all they are supposed to do, just draw a line across the paper over and over again. It’s part of their practice to develop their skills. I know I’m oversimplifying here but bear with me. Now if the parallel practice of “drawing the line” is to write, write and write when does the judging mind ever rest? I write my lines and they never seem to be very good or “good enough”. What is in my head does not seem to be articulated correctly on paper. It is so frustrating! Please note, I’m not saying this for pity or sympathy-sake. Nor is this a matter of having confidence in my work. Rather I understand this is part of the creative process to some extent but dear oh dear does my judging brain need to make it so damn difficult?

After the dance recital, what keeps popping up for me is this idea of “beginner’s mind”. Shoshin is the Japanese concept of approaching work with an attitude of openness, eagerness, and lack of preconceptions when studying a subject, even when studying at an advanced level. These “beginner” dancers that I watched perform gave me a gift with this reminder. Their eager open hearts showed me what has been missing for me when I approach my playwriting. I am always so bright-eyed and excited when I first write up a new draft of some zygot of an idea but when it’s time for hard revisions I start to flounder. I lose my footing and really find myself doubting the work. I tend to be unbearable to both friends and family when I am working through these moments. After all, how do I explain to them that I’m frustrated because I don’t understand yet the motivations or actions that my characters have taken in the piece? Or that I just need some quiet time alone to work through this difficult scene?

Yes well, here I am. Now that I’ve gotten that out of my system, I’m going to spend the rest of the afternoon working on Prodigal.
Wish me luck. ;-)

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