kyletsakiris

An inspiring article, and an interesting line of inquiry. Everyone can be a writer – but those who succeed in writing as a profession – that may be a different story. In order to be successful in any field, especially as a writer, requires a certain resolve and resilience of character. In my thinking, one has to have a certain doggedness and stubbornness about them – they know, come hell or high water, that they will be writing – and the world be damned if it gets in the way.

A major key, at least in my development as a writer, was the ability to be honest about myself and my abilities. We all have native talents, personalities, and experiences that lend themselves to our writing voice – it is up to find us the niche and subject area in which to cultivate that voice and allow it to reach an audience that is receptive to it. I have reached no levels of professional success as a writer and author – but my goal is to do just that. But transcending any desire for professional success, monetary gain, or honorary titles is the desire for the freedom to write, day in and day out, for the rest of my days.

Great article:

In my personal experience (and I think Zen embodies this well), writing has to flow from a spontaneous source. There is only so much planning, outlining, and reflection I can do that will prove to be sources of inspiration for writing. But continually, nothing suffices but the act of throwing myself into the actuality of writing itself – the living, breathing, embodied experience of pen on paper or fingers on keys.

Zen, in getting us to notice the immediate and sensuous experience of reality, calls us to get out of our own heads, so that true wisdom and understanding can flow into our minds unimpeded. Writing, no less than meditating or reflecting upon nature, calls us to do the same. When we free write, or engage in stream of consciousness writing, we open ourselves up to the ability to be fully spontaneous in our practice. And spontaneity is a quality of the heart, not necessarily the head.

Zen masters often use the element of surprise to get their students to come to a full realization of the nature of the present moment, and thereby attain “satori” or enlightenment. When we focus on what is directly in front of us, the act of writing, instead of the lowly voices within our heads that tend towards fear, insecurity, and anxiety, we attain the capability of being spontaneous and flowing, therein allowing words and ideas, pictures and stories, to erupt through us.

In the words of Epictetus, Stoic philosopher, “If you wish to be a writer, write.”

Some thoughts of my own:

As largely someone who reads predominately non-fiction, and philosophy books at that, re-reading is an indispensable part of my education. The best philosophical works are those that we go back to time and again (think Plato’s “Republic”), finding subtle differences in the arguments of a certain philosopher or thinker, and how we interact with them with each new reading.

For example, in re-reading Plato’s “Republic” a second time, I found myself less likely to agree with Plato then I did the first time after I was able to read thinkers like Aristotle, Hannah Arendt, Karl Marx, or John Rawls (who all mulled over concerns pertaining to “justice”). Even so, the questions that were raised in the “Republic” by Plato still remain as relevant today as they did centuries ago.

Re-reading fiction has never been something I particularly enjoyed. One reading through the “Lord of the Rings” series for me was enough, The suspense, the beauty of the prose, and the development of the characters never seemed to strike me as emotionally as it did the first time.

Be that as it may, re-reading can be an integral part of our self-education and our ability to formulate reasonable arguments and responses ourselves to the questions that authors raise in the first place. I love the bit about how re-reading can be an exercise in self-reflection, to see where our sentiments, ideas, and beliefs have changed over a period of time.

“Be careful, however, lest this reading of many authors and books of every sort may tend to make you discursive and unsteady. You must linger among a limited number of master-thinkers, and digest their works, if you would derive ideas which shall win firm hold in your mind. Everywhere means nowhere. When a person spends all his time in foreign travel, he ends by having many acquaintances, but no friends. And the same thing must hold true of men who seek intimate acquaintance with no single author, but visit them all in a hasty and hurried manner.” – Seneca, “Letters from a Stoic”