Showing Up
I’m remembering this quote I read in some literary magazine years ago—“one of the hard things about writing is that you have to show up, but you don’t know what you’re showing up for.” I collaged this quote onto a photo of a mother brushing her daughter’s wet hair after a shower, the most loving, simple act of showing up she could do, and in almost all avenues of my life, it still rings true.
One of the hardest parts about writing or making art or creating is that you have to show up, but you don’t know what you’re showing up for. Let that sink in. Think of the jobs you’ve had, the places you’ve shown up to on time, hung your coat up on the hook, and punched into the clock. Think of the work you did for the time you were allotted. Now, picture yourself showing up on time, but not quite knowing where, or what to do with the time that you have in front of you. Picture yourself sitting down somewhere amidst this unknown, with no one to answer to, not knowing what the heck to do. Is that not the conundrum we’re all in?
As writers, artists and creatives, we are all temporarily hovering mid-air, knowing that there is this thing that we want to do and make and become, but not quite knowing what it is yet. But we show up—most days—hang out coats on our studio racks or in the closet of the old bedroom our parents cleared out for us to use, and we do what we can of the thing. We stare at the words. We add color to the page. We recycle the page. We reorganize the place where we keep them. We water the plants. We brush the daughter’s hair. We show up and we show up and we show up, and some days we still have nothing to show for it. And that is the hardest part. But if instead of seeing ourselves as stuck creatives, or writers that cannot write or painters that cannot paint, we see ourselves as gardeners of new beginnings, tending to the seeds. We see ourselves as parents tucking our little girl into bed after a shower. And suddenly the smallest, most simple acts are infused with a purpose greater than you ever could have imagined.