Currently it’s 8:30, and I’m excited about the idea of getting the blog done earlier than normal and having the rest of the evening to myself. Of course, writing this blog is a very “myself” activity. It’s like a letter written by me to me (that anyone else with an internet connection can read). But it’s also a job. Granted, a job I don’t get paid for in dollars, but a job nonetheless. On some level, it’s a job I “have” to do. Because I’ve chosen to and am committed to sticking to that decision. All this equals the fact that there’s a certain amount of build-up or pressure every day (every damn day) to get this thing done, as well as a certain amount of relief every day (every damn day) when it’s over.

Until the next day, of course.

In the beginning of this project, I worried about what I would say. I’d agonize over it throughout the day and fret about it when sitting down to the keyboard. Some days (or nights, rather), I’d mentally scratch my head for hours before typing the first word. Then I’d erase it, thinking it wasn’t the right one. And whereas when I sat down tonight I felt a tinge of “I don’t have anything to say,” I’ve come to trust The Process. I know if I start with the basic facts–the truth–the rest will follow. This is why so many nights I begin with what time it is. Sure, it gives you, the reader, a context. This is where we are. But it’s not like it’s that interesting. No. It’s simply a primer, a warm up, a way for me to get started. There are nights I go back and delete my entire first paragraph. Because once I get to the end, I realize the warm-up isn’t important. Just as often, I leave it in.

It does, after all, contribute to my total word count.

I’ve said before that when I sit down to write, I rarely know at the onset if the day’s (or night’s) particular blog is going to be “good.” I mean, I think they’re all good but I certainly think some are better than others. Even when I think a blog is blah, there’s always SOMETHING I like it about–a certain phrase, a joke. So even though the reward of the “best” blogs are enough to keep me coming back every day (every damn day), the reward of these little nuggets (as one friend recently called them) motivates me even more. They’re like pulling a rabbit out of a hat or materializing a coin out of thin air. That is, I often sit down with no idea of what to say, and an idea simply appears.

Voila!

In her famous Ted Talk about creativity, writer Elizabeth Gilbert says that as creatives we can’t MAKE something wonderful or magical appear. That, she says, is basically up to the gods, up to wherever ideas come from. Our job, she continues, is simply to show up. To put our butts in chairs and tell the universe, I’m listening. Talk to me.

You know, if you want to.

Earlier today I read about the Latin phrase ora et labora, which means “pray and work.” The text I was reading said that some schools of religion credit salvation to “all grace.” Others credit salvation to “all work.” Rather than putting things completely on God’s back or completely on your own, the concept of ora et labora distributes the weight. “Pray” is asking God to do his part. “Work” is doing yours. As James says, “Faith without works is dead,” and (by implication), “Works without faith is dead.”

Ora et labora is a religious or spiritual concept, but I think it easily applies to creativity or any serious endeavor one chooses to tackle. It’s the idea, I think, Elizabeth Gilbert was driving at but said in a different way. That is, in any project one undertakes in their personal, creative, or spiritual life, there are certain things they can’t control, certain things that are left up to The Unknown. This is God’s Part. If you focused solely on this side of the equation, it’s possible you’d simply “pray” and never take any action whatsoever. Before my dad started going to the gym, he used to say, “Why bother? I’m still going to die.” The other side of the equation, of course, is that certain things ARE in your control. These are The Known things like going to the gym to take care of your body or putting your butt in a chair to write or create something. This is Your Part. This is “work,” and they don’t call it work for nothing.

Every day (every damn day).

I’m not saying you (or even I) have to putt your butt in a chair seven days a week in order for inspiration to occur. Inspiration, that’s what the book I read this afternoon called the marriage of God’s Part and Your Part, the marriage of ora et labora. I really like this idea (and it’s been my experience), that I’m not working alone here, that it’s not completely up to ME to make inspiration happen. Sure, I’ve got a job to do and I’m gonna SHOW UP (my butt is currently in a chair) and do it. But I can’t FORCE a good idea to magically appear anymore than I can force the sun to rise. It either will or it won’t. Still, speaking from experience, if you sleep in, you can’t SEE the sun rise. Likewise, I don’t think you can see a good idea if you’re not in the habit of putting your butt in a chair and sorting through a million bad ones. It takes a habit, a discipline, to know when the gods are talking to you. This is where prayer meets work–where grace meets effort–where you don’t get all of the credit, but you do get some of it.