I Thought I Had Run Out…
I thought I had run out –
Of words.
Of creativity.
But now here I am, voluntarily writing this blog post for you.
It requires lots of words, creativity, and risk.
Completely voluntary.
That makes me laugh out loud.
And it is this same blog post which you will read completely voluntarily. Unforced with no guarantee, it will be worth your time.
That makes me feel honored.
During the spring of 2020, I was finishing up the writing of my dissertation at Duke. It had been a grueling four years. I distinctly remember saying, “I don’t believe I have any more words.”
But I had thought about it countless times too. I had written endless revisions. I still needed to finish my final chapter. In this final chapter, I was to pull the other chapters together and reveal the “what’s next” for my program of research based on those three studies. But, it felt like the words had all been poured out.
I had tried repeatedly to communicate what I needed to communicate, and at the end of the day, I wasn’t sure those words on the page were really that good anyway.
I loved doing the research, but closing the loop on the writing…
Sheesh.
Crossing the finish line and defending my dissertation? I just didn’t know if I could.
Even now I don’t have many good words to describe that feeling but “poured out” and “depleted” are the best words I can think of to capture the essence.
I still remember the feeling. I hope I always will.
Because that feeling, those memories, remind me that I didn’t have the final words… yet.
And three years later, I’m sitting on my front porch writing more words. I don’t have any feelings of being forced or coerced. I don’t have a deadline either. So when I have something I feel I should share, I do and will. And when my head is down, and I’m working on other projects… or I’m resting… or playing… I know the words will be there when it is time. Then I am reminded again that I didn’t run out of words or creativity. But I had to rest, and they flow much easier with rest.
I write, do research, and present publicly for a living. I cannot afford to run out of words! But much more importantly, I value words and the opportunity to communicate with others. The opportunity to be a part of building solutions and decreasing suffering matters to me. So sign me up for the risk, and I’ll keep my daily appointment with myself to keep the words flowing. But if you think for a moment (and I write this because I have heard this often) that I make it “look easy” or that maybe things “come easy for me”, I want you to know there are many days (and long seasons) that have left me breathless (not in a good way) and felt like my teeth had been kicked in repeatedly. I am sure this will happen again.
That which we value, and what we feel compelled to do - matters. Particularly when it costs us a lot.
Last month, while in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, for work, I visited The Andy Warhol Museum. It exceeded my expectations. The entire museum was amazing. It was incredible to see the clear evidence of creativity, humor, risk-taking, inspiration, and uniqueness that Andy Warhol brought to life and those impacted by him and his work.
I took many pictures and discussed pieces with my friends as we walked through.
But there was one room that was unlike any room I have ever seen or would have ever imagined would be in a museum.
There was a room full of square “silver pillows”. The plaque described how Warhol also dabbled in being a “sculptor”. This interactive art invited us to walk through the pillows drifting all around on air currents and inviting us to bat them around playfully time and time again. It was the most delightful form of sculpture I have seen. It was hard to leave that room.
I can still remember the delight I felt and the smiles of my friends Kelly and Carol. I found myself thinking and saying to them – “I wish I could have a conversation with him” and “I wish I could have a window into his thoughts”. I desired to know more about his thought process and to understand more about how he saw the world. Downstairs in the museum bookstore, I had a chance to do just that. I bought his book - Andy Warhol: The Philosophy of Andy Warhol (From A to B and Back Again). Though he no longer walks this earth, his art and words are still inspiring me and countless others.
Reading Warhol’s book has answered some questions and given me more. But there is one part that struck me. His words gave me more insight into the “silver pillows” sculptures that were so curious to me.
Andy Warhol wrote:
“I got a little into technology a couple of times. One of the times was when I thought it was the end of my art. I thought I was really finished, so to mark the end of my art career I made silver pillows that you could just fill up with balloons and let fly away. I made them for a performance of the Merce Cunningham Dance Company. And then it turned out that they didn’t float away and we were stuck with them, so I guessed I wasn’t really finished with art…”
Andy Warhol, one of the most famous artists, with his characteristic style and countless commissioned pieces, etc., thought he was done. He thought he had run out of art to make.
But of course, he hadn’t.
He valued art. He was an artist. He just needed a break, a shift in perspective, and he then rolled on.
That also inspires me.
Maybe you feel like you have run out. Perhaps it feels like you too have poured out all you have.
That you are running on empty of something you value —
Patience with your kids
Kindness toward a spouse or a friend
Maybe you are facing evidence again that the dream you have is way bigger than your means and current skill set.
Maybe you are running out of hope about the future.
Friend, I assure you you have not run out. If this is important to you and you are prioritizing it, meaning creating space for it to return and holding on to the desire that it will, it will.
And all of this is exhausting. We can’t do hard things without rest. And when we get replenished, that which flows from us is better than before. And why we value it becomes even more clear.
So I hope this can serve as a reminder to you as it has been to me, that words, inspiration, renewal, hope, and the other things we value will come when we are ready. And the recipe for this requires we stay connected to our life sources – faith in a purpose outside of ourselves and for more than ourselves.
One foot in front of the other. Continuing to pursue what we value, what we know is ours to do and experience. Holding on… and holding up with confidence that the struggle, instead of depleting us, can make our vision become clearer.
When we fear we may have run out of, and we call the fear out for what it is, a fresh perspective is beginning. And this experience is not one to be avoided or numbed but welcomed as part of the process. It is more evidence of a new day, a new season
Thank you for all the comments you leave, whether publicly here or privately. I enjoy reading each one and appreciate the vulnerability you share as well. I look forward to hearing what you have “run out of”… and celebrating with you when it is replenished.
I have always loved a comeback story. You too?