In which I make good on a promise

It’s been a really complicated summer. So much transition. And I’m in the midst of my Saturn return—I don’t know too much about that, but I feel it, or, rather, whenever I feel myself freaking out, I’m either like, “You need to chill out—” or “You are totally justified—Saturn return!” I’m thinking a lot about commitments lately. I’m thinking, “Don’t run away!” I told myself I would devote the summer to writing, and in some unexpected ways, this has happened, but I haven’t moved any nearer to completion on the work that’s been haunting me, which is a kind of running away. So when I asked my writing group, “What is holding you back?” it was, in part, a way to tap into self-accountability.

Fear of failure. Fear of success. These go-to responses to the question strike me as reductive and maybe a little insulting. I’m pretty sure there’s a requisite degree of risk affinity for anyone claiming “creative,” and as for fear of success…umm…I guess! Success is many things, so who knows? I’ve been guilted for being young, educated, unmarried, and childless: “If I were you…” …you’d be eating your feelings, maybe. I internalize these anyway. I busy myself with other projects, many of which are earnest and worthwhile, but I’ve also got a touch of the Max Fischer. Sometimes I just don’t know, but then I’m in too deep. I’m committed, but also, if only. There’s accountability here, too, both to the commitment and to the possibility therein. I fear I haven’t done enough. I do more and slap my wrist because The Writing. I simplify, push out some lines (hopefully—!), then go to the grocery store.

These are the things I wrap myself in because there’s comfort in the idea of “real work.” Even as I type it, I’m not entirely sure what this means. Or I am very sure but want desperately to believe something else because of my own experiences. I don’t want to be a noble avoider. In undergrad, I was obsessed with this poster on my advisor’s office door—its no-frills proclamation: “The arts are not a luxury.” Yes! Though I didn’t get it get it until later, it put language to a thing in my bones, so now the work is to live in this body for real.