And the story pours out…

This is a guest post from Kyeli Smith, from the Connection Revolution. She and her partner Pace are the founders of the World-Changing Writing Workshop, which I’m speaking at. Pace and Kyeli are also clients of mine. I’ve come to have an incredible respect and warmth for who they both are, and for their mission in the world. Discloser: assume all links are affiliate links, meaning if you click on a link, and eventually purchase something from the Connection Revolution, Heart of Business will get a referral commission.

I’m trying to write. I’ve got a tight deadline; communication got mangled, and I’m running out of time. This makes my muse head for the hills – I can almost see her packing her bags, muttering to herself, “How often do I have to tell you, we need more time for this kind of writing?!”

So here I am, alone and muse-less, staring at the mockingly white screen and terrible blinking cursor. Come on, I encourage myself. You know Mark’s people. You’re one of Mark’s people. You can write for them.

I write. Twenty minutes pass; I’ve eked out about two hundred words. (For reference, I can usually write about four times that much in the same chunk of time when I’m in flow.) I take a breath and read what I’ve got.

I hate it.

That’s when the tears come. I get up from my desk and hobble over to the couch (I’ve torn ligaments in my knee, so I’m on crutches). I lay there, sobbing, bemoaning my inability to write. Suddenly, everything I’ve ever written is called into question – my writing all sucks, I’m not even really a writer, I’ve just somehow managed to write a few good things in among all the crap.

I’m scared. I want to impress you. I want to impress my wife and my teacher. I want to encourage you to join us in our workshop because I know in my heart it will help you – and all I need to do is write this post. I’m just trying to write authentically! About being authentic and helpful! I know this stuff – but I can’t write about it. Suddenly, I can’t write anything – and now I’m afraid I’ll never write anything good ever again.

I’m tied up in knots.

Now I’m laying on the couch, tears streaming down my face and into my ears (producing the odd effect of feeling like I’m underwater), feeling like the worst writer that ever was. My usual trick won’t work – it’s at this point I would take myself outside for a walk, but the knee injury keeps me trapped inside, laid up. Laying down, here on the couch, staring up at the ceiling with tears in my ears.

Feel familiar?

I hear talk about “authenticity” all the time. I’m into personal development and world-wide positive change, and “authenticity” is a buzz word in my circles. It swarms around like a little bee doing their best to be as bee-like as possible – and it shifts my focus from service to ego.

When I sit down, heavy with purpose to “write authentically”, I’m not writing for you.

I’m writing for me.

I’m not feeling how I can best serve you or my business or even my heart. I’m thinking how I can best serve myself – even though it doesn’t seem that way. I’m writing authentically so I can be seen the way I want to be seen – so I can form connections the way I want to form connections.

But now that I’m not writing at all – I’ve given it up, you see, laying here on the couch swimming under my own tears – I realize that I can’t be authentic if I’m trying to impress you. (Okay, I don’t realize that so much as my wife says it to me. But hey, who’s telling this story? That would be me.) I can’t be authentic with an agenda.

The tears stop. I struggle with this for a long time. I can’t be authentic with an agenda.

If I’m the riverbed, and Spirit is my river, my agenda is telling Spirit where to go.

Does the riverbed get to dictate the path in which the water flows?

No.

The river flows. The water moves, and slowly carves out the bed over time. Slowly, pebble by pebble, the riverbed takes form. Guided by the water flowing through, the earth is shaped.

If I am to be the earth for you, my readers, than I need to step back. I need to open my heart and let the River of Spirit flow through me. I am the vessel, not the water.

I struggle to my feet (well, one of them anyway), and hobble on my crutches back to my desk.

I delete the old words, the words I hated, the words I forced out so I could impress you.

I start a new page, blank. Fresh. A brand-new blinking cursor.

I take a deep breath, and I ask Spirit, with a newfound sense of peace and curiosity, Where shall we go? What words will we use? How can we serve our readers?

And my story pours out.

The workshop in question is the 2nd Annual World-Changing Writing Workshop: 8 speakers (including myself – and Mark!), 8 bonuses, and an active community, all designed to help you make a difference with your writing.

Kyeli Smith (that’s me!) is co-leader of the Connection Revolution, teaching people to change the world through connection. My wife is also my business partner – which is awesome – and together we work to foster love, tolerance, healing, communication, and personal growth. I’m a writer, a witch, a lesbian, and an unschooling mom. I also sing in the shower, wear fantastic stripy socks, and believe in faeries.