Saturday, December 11, 2004

Vows of Stability II The call to stability contests the primal impulse often induced by the long, deep middle of a piece of work; the impulse to cut and run. Just now I am immersed in four long, deep middles, and the urge to cut and run is a river out of its banks. SIDE NOTE: One of the more interesting tensions between the creative life and spiritual formation is the notion of "impulse control." Artists nurture, encourage, and protect their ability to respond to impulse in the heat of the creative moment, especially in the moment-to-moment creation of performance - actors, musicians, dancers, etc. To stay alive to the moment, after weeks of careful preparation, is paramount in getting to the riches of spirit artists long for. But the one of the chief notions of character development (read spiritual formation) in the human - wisdom literature from everywhere talks about this - is the notion of impulse control. I haven't seen much writing about this tension, except in the notion of the interplay between the creative and editing functions of the mind in the actual making of art. If someone knows of a writer who deals with this specifically, I'd love to see it. There's nothing new about this, nothing that is particularly special about this impulse in regard to art. "When the going gets tough, the tough get going" so they say. But I wonder if our current preoccupation with, and passion for, intensity of experience somehow feeds this impulse to give things up when they're just not working. Images of failure creep up with regularity when you're slogging it out on the page: poor reviews, that weird look on the faces of friends when they can't tell you what they really thought, jokes delivered to silence. In short, images that feel lousy, something far from the peaceful presence of God true spirituality is said to invoke, and certainly not "organic." The organic feelings of confusion, anger, frustration...these are not terribly helpful in pushing a story forward. It's an interesting dance. So the resolve to continue on a particular project to its end is imperative, difficult, and ultimately, an act of faith. With clear knowledge of how much I've not heeded this wisdom, I post this just to remind us. § The second: I vow to cultivate stability. Today, I will remain where I am, looking for the work in this spot. Though I may travel long distances through space, in my heart I will sit quietly, working, waiting. I will work on this project: this one alone. Could temptation be any more familiar? Today, new ideas will lure me. Thoughts of brilliance, success, and financial gain will gather around me, dropping new ideas into my awareness with the regularity and refreshment of rain. I will make note of them as I can, hold them for another day, seeing them for what they are: mistresses flashing false promises, thinking a bit of skin will turn my eye from the one to whom I've sworn faithfulness. Yes - I have stumbled here. Knowing this fault in me, today I renew my resolve to remain firm, with the Lord's help, firm in my work on the work at hand. I will stay with today's work as God gives me strength. And let today's work begin with what was done yesterday, and let it point toward what will be tomorrow. Let me walk away from a project only when it is finished with me, or I with it, recognizing that times will come when a work, flawed and broken and beyond repair, will have to be laid to rest without completion. Let incompletion be rare. When incompletion comes, I will approach the laying down of a work with prayer, sadness, and resolution. I will swiftly move on, completely, until such time in a far future when suddenly the solution to the problem that killed the project appears to me. And on the solution's appearing, I will not then abandon the current work, but wait until the current work is finished before turning my eye again to that piece asking to be reconsidered. I will work on the work for today...today... 10:38:37 AM    comment []

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