Today, I celebrate my five-year “writer-versary” – it’s been five years since I published and shared my first piece of writing with the world. I ended the day without still quite figuring out how to celebrate. In many ways, I’m still not sure I know where I’m “at” as a writer after five years of this journey — I only know that I feel much better about the journey itself, regardless of where I’ve currently landed in it, or where it will end.
Admittedly, my first three years of writing professionally were tumultuous: I made humiliatingly little money. I felt daily insecurity about my work and had a pretty consistent case of Imposter Syndrome. Any professional setback left me demoralized with the industry and constantly questioning whether I could handle any form of a creative life.
Around two years ago, my relationship to my writing became exponentially healthier after reading Julia Cameron’s “The Artist’s Way.” In her book, she argues we live in a culture “toxic to art” that makes most people experience many, deep “creativity injuries” by the time they are adults. Her book suggests exercises and practices that help heal a person’s relationship to their creativity, and approach creativity in a more spiritual way.
Perhaps my favorite exercise from the book was writing my own version of “an artist’s prayer.” The prayer is used as a speech/meditation/affirmation to recite to yourself every time you begin working on a creative project. It is meant to help tame some of the intense feelings these projects can evoke. During the most difficult times in freelance writing, starting my day with my artist’s prayer did wonders for grounding myself, and remembering why I still choose this field of work. I’ve kept my prayer and this practice mostly a secret, but the only thing I can think of doing to celebrate my “writer-versary” is to share it here.
With all of it’s difficulties, this year I cultivated a deeper appreciation for my writing practice than I have ever had before. Even in its hardest moments, I am getting better at remembering: it is an amazing gift to be able to take every nuance of your life — its struggles, its weirdness, its questions, its trauma, its joy — and honor it by giving it its own space on a page. And, it’s an artist’s gift to build community in that act, to find connection through creating in public. What a gift it’s been these five years (and particularly, these last three months, with this blog) to make my life something shared. Thank you for reading ❤
A writer’s prayer
I am here to take advantage of my creativity.
I surrender:
My fear that I don’t have the background or qualifications
My insecurity that I have nothing valid or worthy to share
My jealousy that others have “made it” quicker than I have
My shame from my previous mistakes
My ego of doing things perfectly on my first try
My anxiety that today’s creativity has to produce something “useful” or support me financially
I welcome:
Any and all emotions and thoughts as a part of the process
All surprises and unexpected turns
I remember that “there is is no need to be “finished.” Instead, I can simply stop in interesting places.” (Paul Gardner).
I remember that “there is no “must” in art because art is free.” (Wassily Kandinsky)
During this process, I will:
Trust that what needs to be created will find its way out of me, if I’m not afraid of it.
Trust that these ideas need me in order to exist.
I will seek support and community, when I need it, and I’ll know that is normal and necessary, not a sign of being lost.
I ask that the divine universe carry me forward as I start today. Help me:
Be humble
Be honest
Ignore all well-meaning doubts
Take small steps in the right direction, rather than get lost in the big questions
Avoid “trying to be clever, and instead be bewildered” (Rumi)
Help me create things that make people feel more loved and less alone
Things that present a different idea than the ones we have already
Help me remember: “it is my audacity, and not my talent that will move me to the center stage” (Julia Cameron).
As an artist, it is my duty to live out loud.
Today, I am an artist.
Today, I will say “Yes” to that life quickly, because — no matter how difficult or inconvenient this life may be — I know it is the only life I can have.
Discover more from Amanda E. Machado
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
