Shaken Confidence
I came to the conclusion a few weeks back that I cannot write. I am but a babe at the foot of giants whose literary works leave me breathless and confused.
I want to make it very clear that I am not being melodramatic, nor am I seeking any type of encouragement. I am merely voicing what has been going on in my mind for several weeks now.
I was watching a chick flick with my wife wherein a poem was recited. It isn’t important which movie it was… oh fine, it was Must Love Dogs (I’m a sucker for John Cusack) and the poem was William Butler Yates “Brown Penny”.
I whispered, ‘I am too young,’
And then, ‘I am old enough’;
wherefore I threw a penny
To find out if I might love.
‘Go and love, go and love, you man,
If the lady be young and fair.’
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
I am looped in the loops of her hair.
O love is the crooked thing.
There is nobody wise enough
To find out all that is in it.
For he would be thinking of love
Till the starts had run away
And the shadows eaten the moon.
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
One cannot begin it too soon.
I honestly don’t know why it was that this piece moved me so. I’ve read a lot of incredible words in my lifetime, without feeling as though my words were lacking. For some reason however, something clicked in my mind with this piece. I looked at my wife and said; “I really cannot write”. And since then, have not written anything (this being my first article since). I’ve struggled with it for a while, the words and emotions wreaking havoc with my rational sense of self.
I began to wonder if I could ever create anything so beautiful. I started seeing words differently, and my ability to manipulate them. I would imagine this is akin to a painter doubting his brushstroke.
Although to be fair, it was not my ability which I doubted, so much as my potential. I began to wonder if I could ever rise to that playing field. Is this something which can be taught and/or learned? Or is someone born with this ability?
I’ve still not answered any of those questions… at least not to my satisfaction.
Perhaps there is no answer. Perhaps we are all to muddle through our creative endeavors, never certain of how they will be perceived.
Still, I wonder… and this causes no degree of confidence which I’ve always felt was important for me to write.
