James’s Blog: Writer’s Block, Inspiration and Stuff Like That.

I’m a lazy writer. Like many, I suppose, I depend on that mythical beast Inspiration to get me started, but when that endangered species is absent, then my passion and the words dry up. A huge part of writing is really just about discipline, and that’s my least favourite part. When the dreams are flowing, it’s all fine, but when I can’t squeeze a single word that I’m happy with onto paper then it’s not fine. I’ve been lacking inspiration for months now. You might call it Writer’s Block.  Every now and then I’ll vomit out something passable, usually for the blog, but as for long-term projects?  That well is currently dry.

The blog is good in that regard, because there’s some weekly discipline right there. I hate it sometimes, but then that’s how I feel about a good many things that are of benefit to my health.

So what’s the point of me, then? Surely a writer who isn’t writing is about as much use as a surgeon who’s had his head cut off. Gosh, that was a clumsy comparison, wasn’t it? This is what I mean, about the lack of inspiration.

I’ve been wondering recently what’s next for the writing. Maybe the shortage of fruit over the past few months means it’s time to call it a day. From a financial perspective, I can tell you that not writing pays even less than writing. So what happens when you’re a writer who isn’t writing? What does that mean?

Not much, to be honest. Because I know a secret. I’m not really a writer. I never was. I’m a Son of God. That’s who I am. So, whether I’m a Son of God who writes, or a Son of God who doesn’t write, it doesn’t really matter. The truly important thing remains the same in both those states, and that’s not going to change.

Of course I’m not going to hang up my quill. Not yet. Writing is a spiritual discipline, and spiritual disciplines involve deserts as well as rivers. I just know that it’s important for me to not forget that my identity is never, never, really about what I do. A curse of manhood is how we are conditioned to tie our identity to our job. It’s one of the first questions that men ask each other when we meet. “And what do you do?” It establishes the pecking order. Lets you know whether or not you’re talking to a proper man. We are what we do. That’s what we think. But that’s just another lie. We are who God says we are. Full stop.

Those desert periods are fruitful too. Those are the times when we learn some beautiful truths. We didn’t realise they were beautiful before, but in the desert they’re no longer forced to compete for our attention.

People say that you should follow your dreams. I say that you should follow God’s dreams. They’re bigger and better than yours, and wilder than you can imagine.

No. I think I’ll keep writing, thank you very much.

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