Killing The Hack And Awakening Of The Writer.

Have you ever had a story to tell but thought it wasn’t worth the time to write it or worried who’s gonna listen to it? 

Yesterday I was watching Shawn Carter (Jay Z) speak at a panel and he was remembering the blocks where he grew up, in a single parent family and how that affected the relationship kids have with any masculine figure of authority afterwards. I realised that of course I ain’t HOV and no aim to compare myself but I have to honour something that we both share and that’s that we all have stories for a reason

When writing this blog it all started from the consumer point of view, I wondered what you might need, I guessed from my line of work what would have been the best and from a marketing point of view I collected wisdom and transformed it for my posts. But that’s a sin! 

I do believe that we are powerful magnets capable of attracting absolutely everything we need into our lives by simply surrendering to the flow of the soul and I have been in that flow a few times, the last time I entered it…well, let me go back in time a bit before that.  

I might have been 10 years old or less when I wrote a poem and I showed it to my father, I can’t even remember where it came from and what was it about, I remember writing it with a typewriter, an old Olivetti machine my father gave me, green turquoise, I loved the sound of it!

It might have been my fever for reading, my wild imagination, don’t know for sure, but I kept writing, keeping them secret because I felt embarrassed of what was coming out of me. 

Once, I wrote a short story about a girl who was sad because their parents had decided to abort their kid and writing from the perspective of the not yet born baby was intense, my literature teacher invited me to read it in front of the whole course, not my class only, the whole floor was there, oh well! 

Poems, stories, notebooks, in my mind I wanted to be a writer and the same way those books had transformed my imagination I wanted to create worlds and travel with the stories that I could create. 

I had them all together and my father sent them to a friend, he is a best selling author and also a lawyer, he had the courage to read my writings and then sent an email, polite and cold, saying, yes, they were ok but,…that but killed me…but writing wouldn’t give me a life, he was still working as a lawyer in the end, writers have it hard and I needed to live, my style wasn’t fluent or original enough. These weren’t exactly the words, I don’t have the email and honestly I don’t even want to read again but the point is, I allowed those words to kill my spirit, I blocked something in me, after that, every time I wrote something it was never good enough, I have burned notebooks, deleted files and folders with notes and texts, I have given up on my dream a hundred thousand times. 

But a dream is a dream, a muse is stubborn and there’s no way I was going to die with all my stories inside me. 

I travelled the world, experimented life in many different forms, I did all I could to get lost and yet the dream always found me back, the path was always there, this might sound romantic but it’s like I have a star in my ass and somehow no matter how far I might be or feel from the dream it keeps coming back. 

I tried different styles, then looked for what people might like and tried to please but what I was writing didn’t had a soul. Some of my poems are around the internet, Facebook has a funny way of bringing up memories in the most unexpected moments and a few days back it mentioned a short poem I wrote a couple of years ago, it was intense and it was fire, I know I have it in me and the trick is to write write write and to explore, in the midst of all that a gem will be found! Or many 🙂 

The point of this post is a before and after, I couldn’t keep it inside for longer, the dream its bursting out and now all I want to do is create create create create…experience and experiment.

Grateful! 

The cool thing about life is that there are no mistakes, not a single one, everyone of us blossoms when it’s time, after all I have been through all these years now is the time to let the dream out and without judgement create. 

The hack was born out of need, out of fear, out of necessity, out of lack of faith, out of pain, out of looking outside instead of inward, and that’s why the hack was not authentic. 

When did the hack die? 

A few paragraphs before I mentioned the flow and how we are magnets for exactly what we need, what we really need. This time it was a book, The War of Art by Steven Pressfield. In there the author says that the hack has sold the muse, and that there’s a bigger fear than failure, the fear of actually being that person who dares because it sets you apart from the pack and leaving the tribe is something that unconsciously the human mind fears. 

I think it’s also a bit of the old ego that wants to remain comfortable and in the known, is better to feel like crap but at least you know how that feels. 

Well, I’m done with that!

Words are flowing from me, can’t and won’t stop them anymore, I was wired to create and living my days like each one of them is the last one means honouring my dreams, every single one of them. 

What will come from this? I will let it flow so I can’t predict but now I’m doing it from the inside so whatever happens in the outside world can only inspire not control or decide for me. 

Steven talks about resistance, resistance being the devil, the evil force that will freeze you everytime you are about to do something exceptional. 

Everyone that has a body experiments resistance of some kind, mine was the absolute freezing fear of being seen, vulnerable, open, my mind open wide to the world where it can be judged, criticised, where I can be hurt, so instead I almost killed my muse by writing hacks and tricks instead of actually creating. 

Funny huh? Always motivating people to follow their dreams while in the midst of it I am fighting a battle of being good enough to write and worrying about who might like it when what I have learned from people like Pharrell Williams, Kanye West or any other artist is that art comes through us, it’s something you can’t stop, it takes courage but when creating is when we are alive. We do it for the love of creating and if people like it that’s a plus. 

I had to grow all these years to turn pro, to take art professionally, to take it as a job, to understand that the creative process is an everyday job but I won’t call it a job, it’s more a quest of daily discovery where inspiration can be found in the less expected places, suddenly the world is a bucket of ideas and experiences and I am open to receive them and process them with my words and imagination. 

WIRED TO CREATE! 

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